why you’re shaking now?”
Cameron had noticed, too. Emerald was not in control.
“Or is it the guy who keeps calling?” He stepped back into the hall before Emerald reached him. The muscles of his massive chest and biceps stood out when he folded his arms. Not a man to make an enemy of, Cameron thought. “Better watch it, Champ,” he said. “There are a lot of nuts out there. If he takes it in mind to turn up here—”
“I’m sure you’ll protect me.” Emerald’s voice dripped with both honey and vinegar, but her fingers twitched again on the silk in her hands.
“That’s why you pay me.”
His sarcastic tone served as a reminder that she owed him. As if satisfied with that for the moment, Ron gave Cameron a nod, turned and went soundlessly down the hall.
For a long moment no one spoke. Emerald threw down the silk gown.
Then she said, “Don’t let his muscle-bound appearance fool you. Ron is minor league. I pulled him out of the gutter two years ago. He’s not that good a driver, either. When I’m back on top in my game, and my knee is fully healed, he’ll be the first to go.”
“Still,” Cameron mused, “I wouldn’t want to cross him.”
“He’s a nobody. Grace undoubtedly paid him—and he simply wants more.”
She turned back to the suitcase, pushed everything flat inside and closed the latches. When she faced Cameron again, she was smiling.
“Imagine being afraid of him, or that deranged man who called. They won’t touch me.” She waved toward the dresses on the bed. Red, green, black. “I think the bronze satin will do for you. It suits both of us.” She returned to the closet then handed Cameron a sleek, long-haired object.
Cameron recoiled.
“Take it,” Emerald said with a half smile. “My wig for those bad-hair days. If you’re going to impersonate me tonight, you’ll need to be blond.”
Cameron frowned. “What if this doesn’t work?”
“Of course it will work. Most people are completely unobservant. Unless you’re forced to play tennis, you can easily pass for me.” A pleading note had entered her voice and Cameron sank down on the bed, knowing she’d been defeated.
As far as she could tell, Emerald had plenty of colleagues and professional acquaintances—all potential clients for Cameron—but no real friends. Ron and Grace didn’t appear to like her either. As for enemies, that “fan”… Cameron shuddered at the memory of his harsh voice, his threat. She knew all about that—in the past. Now she had her job to consider. Plus, she felt a connection to Emerald.
“Well, if it will help…”
Emerald headed for the bathroom to shower.
“You’ll save my life,” she said, sounding confident again. “I’ll be at Ted’s if anyone needs me. Grace has his number.”
Cameron knew a look of escape when she saw it.
“I need a few days out of the limelight,” Emerald said over her shoulder. “When I get back, we’ll see about a reward for your service.”
“Miss Greer. Emerald…”
But she was gone in a click of heels on marble tile.
HOURS LATER, Cameron gazed at herself in the mirror of Emerald’s dressing room at the Waldorf-Astoria. Her heart beat a rapid tattoo beneath the low-cut neckline of the bronze satin gown.
“Well?” she said, taking care to hide her bandaged fingers in the skirt.
“Perfect.” Wearing Cameron’s jeans and sweater, Emerald stood behind her.
Cameron compared their images. Briefly, another wave of uncertainty about tonight darkened her eyes, but she had to admit, she didn’t look half-bad. She and Emerald did resemble each other—in reverse now. Their shoulders were on a level, their heads, too, and anyone would be hard-pressed to notice the few pounds’ difference between them. When Cameron put on a coat, it would be impossible to discern unless that person knew them well.
Which made her ask the question.
“What about Ron?”
“I didn’t tell him. It won’t matter. He’s being paid—and he will be paid—to drive me to this hotel then home again. I have nothing more to say to him tonight.”
Because of their earlier quarrel, that left Cameron to explain the ruse to Ron later. Emerald didn’t seem to care.
So, big deal. She could play someone else—again—for one night. She’d had plenty of practice, and she had to admit, the dress was flattering. The bronze satin nipped in Cameron’s waist and emphasized her smaller breasts. No jeans tonight. This might be her one chance to shine.
If she succeeded, Emerald would be grateful.
As a reward, The Unlimited Chef might benefit from her gratitude.
Cameron would be that much closer to making it on her own. Being normal.
Taking a deep breath, she willed herself to relax.
What was the harm? Even in the back seat of a darkened limousine, she would be more a part of things, out in the open and free, than in all her years in Witness Protection. Maybe it would be fun to lead a harmless press, rather than a killer, off the track.
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