He’s leaning against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, and there’s something in his expression that burns me up. He was checking me out. I’m almost certain of it.
His scent is still everywhere, filling the small space, and I have to remind myself to breathe normally.
“Glad you like it,” he says. “Your keys are on the table.”
I spot them next to a small welcome basket with coffee, tea, and some pastries from The Flour House. “That’s a nice touch.”
“Real estate agent does that for all the new tenants. Trying to be welcoming.” He pushes off the counter, moving toward the door. “Air-conditioning controls are on the wall there. Heat is radiator-based, but you can adjust the thermostat if it gets too warm. Rent’s due on the first of the month, but you already sorted that out online. Any issues, you can call the real estate agent, or if it’s something urgent, here’s my number in case you want to call me direct.” He stares at me as if implying something, but I refuse to read too much into it.
He pulls a business card from his wallet and sets it on the counter.
I pick it up.Jasper Lawson. Property Management.His cell number is printed below.
“Thanks,” I say. “I appreciate all this.”
He moves toward the door, then pauses with his hand on the knob. “It’s nice having some new faces in town. Gets quiet in winter. I’ll probably see your brother in the morning, yeah?”
I blink. “Wait—why?”
Jasper glances back at me, clearly amused. “Because he’s starting work at Wilde Charters, right? I’m one of the owners.” He grins a little too widely.
My heart does a fun little backflip, followed by a hard crash landing.
“Oh,” I say. Just that. Because my brain has apparently melted into soup.
“Tell him to meet us at The Flour House at nine a.m.”
“Yeah,” I manage. “I’ll… let him know.”
“Great.” He opens the door fully now. “Welcome to Mistberry, Anita. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call.”
“Thanks,” I say, smiling like my face isn’t cracking under the weight ofoh-no-oh-no-oh-no.
He gives me one last friendly nod and disappears into the hallway.
I freeze in place for a full three seconds before whispering, “Shit.”
I just met my boss. My actual boss. The one I’ll be seeing tomorrow when I show up pretending to be a completely different person, my fake brother.
Panic prickles up the back of my neck.
What if he recognizes me? What if he sees right through the suppressants? What if my voice gives me away? What if I trip over my story or forget what fake college my fake brother allegedly graduated from? I shouldn’t have agreed to meet anyone…Hell.
I suck in a sharp breath and press my palms to my cheeks. No. I’ve got this. Ihaveto have this. It’s not my first undercover job.
I’ve got the résumé. I’ve got the ID. I’ve got the backstory down cold.
We’re twins. Duh. Of course we look alike.
And once the suppressants kick in, no one will even think twice.
Right?
Deep breath.
I can do this.
Probably.
