The Twin Switch

“Who?”

“A friend. A girlfriend. I’m meeting her here and I don’t want to miss her.”

“That’s not exactly alone.”

“It is until she gets here.”

“You lied.”

“I didn’t lie.”

“You omitted. You’re hiding something.”

I wasn’t about to touch that one. “You thought I was a cheater.”

“Maybe.”

“Is that a takes-one-to-know-one statement? Do you have a girlfriend? Are you a cheater?”

“Nope.”

“How do I know you’re not lying? Cheaters probably lie.”

His smile said he got that I was joking. I felt warm about that. Not everyone caught on to my sense of humor.

The waitress returned with our wine, and we both fell silent as she poured.

When she left, he held up his glass for a toast. “To honesty and integrity.”

“Faith and loyalty.” I thought about Brooklyn as I touched my glass to his.

I took a sip. The wine was outstanding—crisp, buttery and light on my tongue.

“Now that we know we’re on the same wavelength,” he said. “Tell me something about you. Maybe start with your name.”

I realized then that he’d introduced himself, but I hadn’t.

“It’s Layla—Layla Gillen.”

“Nice to meet you, Layla Gillen. Will you be in Vegas for long?”

“I certainly hope not.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “You have something against Vegas?”

“No, nothing. It’s the first time I’ve been here.” I scanned for Brooklyn again. I spotted a blonde woman in the distance, but she turned and I saw her profile—not Brooklyn.

“Where are you from?” Max asked.

I turned my attention back to him. “Seattle. You?”

“I have a place in New York, but I travel quite a bit. What do you do in Seattle?”

I didn’t want to sound nerdy. Then again, I sure wasn’t about to lie.

“I’m a teacher.”

“What grade?”

“High school.”

“What subject.”

“Math.”

His smile said he’d discovered an embarrassing secret.

My pride kicked in. “You have something against mathematics?”

“You don’t look like any math teacher I ever had.”

“I’m fully qualified.”

“I’m not questioning that.”

“It sounded like you were.”

“No.” He cocked his head and his gaze grew warm. “I was thinking if my math teachers looked like you, I’d have enjoyed the subject a whole lot more.”

My heart fluttered. It seriously, embarrassingly, fluttered there for a second.

My cheeks grew warm, and I told myself to get a grip, covering the reaction with another sip of wine.

This was obviously a crush-at-first-sight, and I’d never felt anything like it.

I didn’t want to check into a 700-dollar-a-night hotel room when I had a perfectly wonderful prepaid room waiting for me back in San Francisco. But evening was falling, and there was still no sign of Brooklyn.

Max had said goodbye after lunch, and I’d left the table pretending I had somewhere to go. I didn’t, of course. But I’d found a comfortable seat at the opposite end of the lobby with a good view of the main entrances and exits.

The vibe of the lobby was beginning to change from daytime to evening. I knew if I wanted to continue blending with the crowd, I had to get out of my jeans.

There were shops dotted around the periphery of the lobby. The clothes were very high-end, but I managed to find a little black dress on a sales rack.

I wasn’t about to interrupt my surveillance by heading into the fitting room. Luckily, the dress had simple lines and enough stretch that I was confident it would fit. My black ankle boots weren’t exactly perfect for the occasion, but I was wearing a silver necklace and dangling earrings, and I could pull my hair up in a messy bun.

I’d do for the evening crowd.

I hated to interrupt my surveillance, but eventually, the need for a restroom break became urgent. In the ladies’ room, I changed in a flash and was back out in the lobby again with my jeans and blouse folded into the boutique shopping bag.