walked away from the
table. I felt so frumpy sitting there in that fancy restaurant in my used
clothes with most of my makeup having disappeared from my face. I wanted to at
least freshen up for the rest of the dinner.
I stepped into the bathroom, which was
spotless and immaculate with sweeping ceilings, polished, ceramic fittings, and
pale, painted murals along the walls. I sat my purse up next to the sink and
began pulling out tubes of lipstick and mascara and tiny bottles of perfume.
Every little bit counted.
As I got to work on my face, the door
swung open and in sauntered a stunning beauty. She was tall and curvaceous,
standing at about a couple inches taller than me. Our features were nearly
identical, right down to the shade of our fair complexions. The only difference
between us was that I had long hair and she had a Charlize Theron-esque pixie cut. Her eyes honed in on me and
took me in from head to toe before she made her way to the sink next to mine. A
row of ten sinks and she just had to stand next to me.
“That blouse looks awfully familiar,” she
said, drawing out her words with intention as she whipped out a tube of red
lipstick from her purse. She faced the mirror, but her eyes were on me.
“Sorry?” I replied. “Do I know you?”
“You’re like a freaking mini me,” she
huffed, her eyes slightly sad and slightly amused all at the same time.
“Figures.”
“Who are you?” I asked, turning away from
the mirror and towards her.
“Sapphire,” she said with one hand on her
curved hip. “Sapphire Hart.”
A sharp shot of adrenaline coursed
through my chest. “I don’t believe I know you.” I lied.
“Of course you don’t,” she said with a
snicker. “You must be my replacement.”
“Your replacement?”
“Look at you,” she sneered with a slight
hint of jealousy. “You’re the spitting image of me five years ago. You’re even
wearing my old blouse. And Preston brought you to Giatta’s .
This used to be our restaurant you know.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,”
I said, holding my chest high and my shoulders back. I threw my things back
into my purse and flung it over my shoulder. “Preston’s never mentioned you
before, so…?”
Her face twisted as my comment had
rendered her speechless. Satisfied and tired of the conversation, I turned on
my heel and headed back out to join Preston.
FOURTEEN
PRESTON
“No, no, you can’t go in there,” I heard
Ruthie’s voice trail from down the hall. “You’re not supposed to be here.”
I looked up from my computer desk and sat
back in my chair. I knew who it was. I didn’t even have to think twice about
it.
The door flung open and there stood Sapphire
Hart, all five foot seven of her, in a curve hugging Herve Leger bandage dress and sky high, nude Loubotins . Her
shiny, platinum hair was cropped and perfectly coifed, and her dark blue eyes
burned into mine.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Woodfield ,”
Ruthie mumbled from behind Sapphire.
“It’s fine, Ruthie,” I said, my eyes
locked in Sapphire’s. I stood up and walked around my desk. “Go back to your
desk. I’ve got this.”
“Do you want me to call security, sir?”
she asked.
“Not yet,” I replied. “Go on, Ruthie.”
Sometimes she was a little too loyal.
“What do you need, Sapphire?” I asked,
arms folded. “You know you’re not supposed to be here.”
“I saw her, Preston,” she said with
narrowed eyes. “God, I’m not even out of your life three months and you’ve
already lined up a replacement? She’s practically a clone of me! I find that
really disturbing.”
I cocked my head to the side. How did she
know about Mirabelle?
“It’s actually pretty creepy, Preston,”
she said with a snicker. “I mean , I knew you were
obsessed with me, but that just sort of
table. I felt so frumpy sitting there in that fancy restaurant in my used
clothes with most of my makeup having disappeared from my face. I wanted to at
least freshen up for the rest of the dinner.
I stepped into the bathroom, which was
spotless and immaculate with sweeping ceilings, polished, ceramic fittings, and
pale, painted murals along the walls. I sat my purse up next to the sink and
began pulling out tubes of lipstick and mascara and tiny bottles of perfume.
Every little bit counted.
As I got to work on my face, the door
swung open and in sauntered a stunning beauty. She was tall and curvaceous,
standing at about a couple inches taller than me. Our features were nearly
identical, right down to the shade of our fair complexions. The only difference
between us was that I had long hair and she had a Charlize Theron-esque pixie cut. Her eyes honed in on me and
took me in from head to toe before she made her way to the sink next to mine. A
row of ten sinks and she just had to stand next to me.
“That blouse looks awfully familiar,” she
said, drawing out her words with intention as she whipped out a tube of red
lipstick from her purse. She faced the mirror, but her eyes were on me.
“Sorry?” I replied. “Do I know you?”
“You’re like a freaking mini me,” she
huffed, her eyes slightly sad and slightly amused all at the same time.
“Figures.”
“Who are you?” I asked, turning away from
the mirror and towards her.
“Sapphire,” she said with one hand on her
curved hip. “Sapphire Hart.”
A sharp shot of adrenaline coursed
through my chest. “I don’t believe I know you.” I lied.
“Of course you don’t,” she said with a
snicker. “You must be my replacement.”
“Your replacement?”
“Look at you,” she sneered with a slight
hint of jealousy. “You’re the spitting image of me five years ago. You’re even
wearing my old blouse. And Preston brought you to Giatta’s .
This used to be our restaurant you know.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,”
I said, holding my chest high and my shoulders back. I threw my things back
into my purse and flung it over my shoulder. “Preston’s never mentioned you
before, so…?”
Her face twisted as my comment had
rendered her speechless. Satisfied and tired of the conversation, I turned on
my heel and headed back out to join Preston.
FOURTEEN
PRESTON
“No, no, you can’t go in there,” I heard
Ruthie’s voice trail from down the hall. “You’re not supposed to be here.”
I looked up from my computer desk and sat
back in my chair. I knew who it was. I didn’t even have to think twice about
it.
The door flung open and there stood Sapphire
Hart, all five foot seven of her, in a curve hugging Herve Leger bandage dress and sky high, nude Loubotins . Her
shiny, platinum hair was cropped and perfectly coifed, and her dark blue eyes
burned into mine.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Woodfield ,”
Ruthie mumbled from behind Sapphire.
“It’s fine, Ruthie,” I said, my eyes
locked in Sapphire’s. I stood up and walked around my desk. “Go back to your
desk. I’ve got this.”
“Do you want me to call security, sir?”
she asked.
“Not yet,” I replied. “Go on, Ruthie.”
Sometimes she was a little too loyal.
“What do you need, Sapphire?” I asked,
arms folded. “You know you’re not supposed to be here.”
“I saw her, Preston,” she said with
narrowed eyes. “God, I’m not even out of your life three months and you’ve
already lined up a replacement? She’s practically a clone of me! I find that
really disturbing.”
I cocked my head to the side. How did she
know about Mirabelle?
“It’s actually pretty creepy, Preston,”
she said with a snicker. “I mean , I knew you were
obsessed with me, but that just sort of
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