Holiday In The Hamptons. Sarah Morgan

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      “Maybe you should stay out of the garden from now on.”

      “Nonsense. I was looking out of the window a moment ago, worrying about what’s happening to my plants while I’m trapped here immobile.”

      “If you tell me which plants, I can do whatever needs to be done.” Fliss poured tea into a glass.

      “You’re a good girl.”

      Fliss felt like a fraud. She wasn’t a good girl. She was a liar and a fraud.

      She had a sudden urge to blurt out everything to her grandmother, but she couldn’t face seeing disappointment on her face. Or finding ways to dodge the inevitable questions about Seth.

      “Anything you need,” she murmured, and wandered back into the kitchen to throw together a salad for supper. As long as she didn’t actually have to cook anything, she could keep this up for a while. Even she couldn’t burn salad.

      She was chopping tomatoes, focused on trying to make each piece as neat and uniform as Harriet would, when there was a knock on the door.

      Her heart sank. She hadn’t factored in visitors. This deception was spreading before her eyes, like a drop of ink spilled into water.

      She tipped the tomatoes in with the lettuce and hoped whoever it was would go away.

      “Harriet?” Her grandmother’s voice came from the living room, and she bowed to the inevitable.

      “I’ll get it.”

      Hopefully it would be one of the neighbors with a casserole. At least then she’d only have to reheat. She was a champion reheater. And accepting a casserole could happen without worry about anyone suspecting her identity.

      She opened the door, replacing her “why are you bothering me?” look with what she hoped was a reasonable imitation of Harriet’s wide, welcoming smile.

      The smile died on the spot.

      It was Seth, standing shoulder to shoulder with another man she’d met only once before in her life. At her wedding.

      Chase Adams.

      Holy crap, she was totally and utterly screwed.

      It didn’t help that Seth leaned his arm against the doorjamb, all muscle and male hotness.

      “Hi, Harriet, we just wanted to drop by and say that if you need any help, all you have to do is ask. You already know Chase, of course. He has a whole team of people who can fix anything that needs fixing in the house.”

      “We haven’t met in person, but my wife, Matilda, talks about you a lot.” Chase shook her hand. “It’s good to finally meet you, Harriet. I’m sorry for your grandmother, but her misfortune is my fortune because it brought you here and I need a favor.”

      A favor?

      Right now she wasn’t in the mood for favors.

      She just couldn’t seem to catch a break.

      “Good to meet you, too.” More lies, all piling one on top of the other. She wondered how long it would take for the weight of them to topple the pile. With luck, they’d knock her unconscious when they fell. “How can I help you?”

      “You know Matilda is due in four weeks, and you also know Hero is a bit of a handful. As you’re going to be walking your grandmother’s dog, I wondered if you’d mind walking Hero, too, while you’re here. You can drop in and see Matilda at the same time. I know she’d be thrilled to see you. She hasn’t had a chance to meet that many people here, so she’d be pleased to see a friend, and you already walk Hero back in Manhattan, so you know all his little quirks.”

      Fliss stared at him.

      She didn’t know any of that.

      All she knew was that she was doomed.

      “Sure,” she croaked. “I can’t think of anything I’d like more.”

      Except perhaps sticking her head in a bucket of freezing water and inhaling.

      * * *

      SETH STROLLED TO the car. “Thanks for your help.”

      “You’re welcome.” Chase paused by the car. “Matilda talks about Harriet all the time. The two of them have become friendly.”

      “And that’s a problem because…?”

      “It’s not a problem. It’s just that—” he turned to look at the house, a frown on his face “—Harriet didn’t seem too enthusiastic at the idea of meeting up with Matilda.”

      Seth unlocked the car. “That’s because that wasn’t Harriet. That was Fliss.”

      “Excuse me?”

      “You were talking to Fliss.”

      “So why did she say she was Harriet?”

      “Because that’s what she wants me to think.”

      “But—wait a minute. You’re saying she’s pretending to be her twin?” Chase stared at him, bemused. “Why? What possible reason could she have for doing that?”

      “Me. I’m the reason. She’s avoiding me.”

      “Avoiding—?” Chase shook his head. “But you’re here anyway.”

      “Let me put this another way—she’s avoiding having to have a conversation with me as herself.”

      “I’ve deciphered tax returns less complicated than this. You were married! Why would she think she can fool you?”

      “We haven’t seen each other in ten years. She probably thought I wouldn’t be able to tell the difference. That I wouldn’t know.”

      But he knew. He knew her. Every detail.

      “How long did it take you to work it out?”

      “About ninety seconds. I mentioned cookies, and she panicked.” It had been fleeting, but he’d seen it. It had been enough to convince him that he was looking at Fliss.

      “She has a phobia about cookies?”

      “No, but she is a terrible cook. They had to call the fire department after one of her attempts.”

      His friend grinned. “Does her grandmother realize?”

      “I would imagine so. She’s a pretty smart woman.”

      “So are you going to tell Fliss you know?”

      “No. I’m going to let her carry on being ‘Harriet’ until she decides to tell me the truth.”

      “Why?”

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