you decide about me.”
Daphne took her hand. They shook as the girl from the counter approached with a tray.
Raina took it, her expression relaxing into a smile. “Thanks, Kyla.” She set her mug—tea—and a dish of sugar cubes on the table.
“Sure.” Kyla took the tray back, still staring from one to the other of them. “Call me if you need anything else.”
Raina grinned at Kyla’s retreating back. “She’s shocked. So am I, every time I look at you.”
“But you seem to be taking it in stride now.” Daphne sipped her coffee. “I thought you were frightened this afternoon. Now, you seem confident, like a woman with a plan.”
“My parents never told me I was adopted. Imagine opening a door and seeing someone with your face who tells you the last thing you want to hear.”
“What did you think? That I’d had plastic surgery or something to make myself look like you so you’d give me money?”
“I’m not suggesting we aren’t twins, but I’ve learned to be suspicious of everyone. I’ve already had guys ask me to marry them. Not because I’m so lovable.” She shrugged, and Daphne admired her ability to laugh at herself. “Which you may have noticed. But they each desired a piece of my net worth. My life is ludicrous, and you show up when I’m feeling most cynical.”
“When is a bad time to find family? All I wanted was to know my sister.”
That word felt strange to Daphne, not warm anymore. Raina ignored it.
“I do a lot of things well.” She dropped a couple of sugar cubes into her cup, and then she dipped her tea bag. “My mother taught me to pretend people aren’t staring at me and my companion in a coffee shop. She trained me to wear the right clothes for spring, although she probably would have checked the weather forecast before she put on white. She taught me how to appear cool under fire.” She tilted her head at a wry angle. “Only, I seem to have a problem with that one, too.”
“You’re not under fire. I want to know if we can be sisters.” A knot in her throat stopped her. She didn’t want Raina to realize how much it mattered.
But Raina noticed. “That’s what I mean. I don’t know how I’m supposed to respond. My parents lied to me. You’re looking for someone who could be your family. I’ve just lost the last of mine, and here you are, suggesting we could belong together.”
Belong together. Even Daphne hadn’t gone that far. Her heartbeat picked up a little pace. Speaking became difficult. This was why she’d come to Honesty.
Raina stirred her tea without touching the sides of the mug and set the spoon delicately on a paper napkin.
Suddenly, there was something Daphne had to know. “Did Patrick make you call me? He came after me because he was worried. This meeting was his idea.”
Raina looked straight at her for the first time. “You call him Patrick as if you know each other.”
Had he noticed she was attracted to him? “Should I have said Mr. Gannon?” What had Patrick said after he’d gone back upstairs? Had they laughed at her?
“That’s not what I meant, but you two spent a few minutes alone in an elevator, and suddenly you’re both different.”
Worse than laughing. “I took the stairs.”
Raina looked confused, but then she laughed, picking up her spoon again. She gave her tea another stir. “I overreacted. To you and to everything about our situation.”
“Being sisters? That situation?” Or was Raina staking her claim to Patrick? Suddenly, Daphne couldn’t breathe. She felt around for her own purse.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting out of here, once and for all. You don’t care that we’re sisters. You called only because you do what Patrick says.”
“No, no, no.” Raina said it as she would chide a young child, and she reached for Daphne’s wrist. She looked down. “My God, you’re thin. Don’t you ever get a square meal?”
Daphne wanted to run, but if she did, she’d never see Raina again. It was too much to risk.
“Will you let me say I’m sorry?” Raina let Daphne go, but her steady gaze suggested she might grab at Daphne again if she made a move toward the door.
Maybe they were both overreacting.
“Sorry,” Daphne said. “Maybe I seem confident, but trust isn’t my strong suit.” She wrapped her hand around her throat. Moments like this made her thirsty for more than just coffee.
“That’s something we share.”
Daphne flattened her hands on the table. “We share?” She hardly knew she’d said it out loud until Raina’s mouth began to move.
“Four guys, Daphne. Four requests to help themselves to the Abernathy portfolio, all during the past three months. And I’ve known these men since I was a child.” She sipped her tea. Her mouth was so tight, Daphne half expected the liquid to trickle down her chin. “One was a friend of my father’s. His age.”
Daphne slid her hands up her arms, over goose bumps. “I feel the ick factor, but you didn’t understand me.” Being blunt felt awkward. “I want to share—things—our past, the lives we want, the truth—with you. I want a real relationship, not a nodding acquaintance.”
She stuttered to a halt, but Raina’s smile switched on. “You have weaknesses, too.”
“That makes you happy?” That she was vulnerable? That one person left in the world could hurt her?
“No, not happy. But I can identify with you. I may look capable, but something happened to me after my mother’s—death.” Raina’s sadness made Daphne long to comfort her, but Raina had a formidable touch-me-not air. “As you saw in Patrick’s office, sometimes I’m barely able to function. I’m wondering where you get your guts, why you have them but I don’t.”
Daphne smiled. “That’s a funny word from you.”
“Courage, if you prefer.”
“I wonder whether we’re both brave enough to try being sisters.” Daphne eyed Raina over the rim of her coffee cup.
Raina drank her tea, honest-to-God splaying her little finger, then she set the cup in its saucer.
“Let’s get your things.” She pulled her suitcasepurse close to her chest.
“My things?” Raina had gone from shrinking in Patrick’s office to bossing the sister she hadn’t fully accepted yet. Daphne grabbed her coffee, telling herself it was too soon to move in together. “I can’t stay with you.”
Raina arched her perfect eyebrows. “You don’t have a job. Where can you afford to—”
“I have a room in a hotel. I sent you the address.”
“That
