G-Men: The Series (110 page)

I was sitting in first class with Colin next to me going over my presentation and the figures for the umpteenth time. It had to be perfect, not that I gave a shit about the sourcing contract administrators for Scotland Yard—yes, I know that should’ve been my first priority, but let’s get REAL here: this would be my debut performance with Easton in attendance. Failing was
not
an option!

I’d timed it at least a dozen times, made back-up slides, memorized the slides, had Lindsey video-tape a walk-through test run fourteen times, spent hours searching for the right business attire, and of course, had gone to the salon for a make-over.

Okay, now I have to be honest here. Curiosity had gotten the better of me once Taz had clued me in that Easton had been in love with a freaking runway model. So, as soon as I’d arrived home after my visit with them that evening, I’d “googled” the name ‘Bianca Templeton.’

Holy fucking shit!

Okay, I’m not trying to pass myself off as some gorgeous coulda-shoulda-been-a-model, because I’d never held myself to that level, but Christ! There was no fucking denying the resemblance between me and this chick. Yeah—she was a few years older, but damn she had the same long, dark hair as mine, and though she wore hers differently, it was close enough. My face was shaped just like hers, and our coloring was the same, except for the eyes: hers were lighter blue. Even our lips were similarly shaped. Of course, I’d pulled more photos of her off the internet, becoming slightly obsessive about it, once I’d seen the initial similarities. She wore her make-up differently, but that could easily be remedied.

Apparently, Lacee had been straight with me about the whole Bianca thing. Fuck me. That son-of-a-bitch didn’t give a rat’s ass about me! Obviously, he was still infatuated with Bianca. I felt duped. No—I felt
more
than duped. I felt
used!
Easton’s whole “infatuation” with me was nothing more than a ruse to get me to be a surrogate fuck for that trick.

Dude was apparently still hung up on her. If that’s the case, I was fairly certain he kept up with her current comings and goings. I’d immediately pulled up the most recent photos, showing her at last summer’s Cannes Film Festival. Bianca’s hairstyle had changed, and she’d added foil highlights. What the hell—why not?

I’d handed the recent picture of Bianca to Monroe, my stylist, instructing him to make me look like that the previous day.

“Honey, I don’t have that many years left in my career,” he teased.

“Funny, Monroe, just do your best.”

He worked feverishly, trimming my ends, putting in highlights, and finally using a gel-based straightener and flat iron.

“You’ll need to flat iron this hair daily to keep that style,” he warned, shaking his head. “I’ve no clue why you wanted to do this to that gorgeous hair of yours anyway. Seems a shame to me, but you’re the customer,” he sighed.

“Just needed a change, Monroe. Every now and then, change is good.”

“I guess,” he replied, still shaking his head.

Eli had looked me over suspiciously when I returned home that evening. “Okay, Darce, what’s this about?”

“What’s what about?”

“Are you entering some Bianca Templeton look-a-like contest? What’s the prize?”

“Easton Matthews,” I replied, dryly, looking at my new hairstyle in the mirror. I loved it. Now I just needed to do my eyes like hers.

“What?”

“You heard me,” I replied, not taking my eyes from the mirror. “They were engaged to be married a couple of years ago. Hey, how do
you
know Bianca Templeton? Never mind, stupid question.”

“Oh, my God,” he said, crossing his arms. “So
Easton’s
the dude that put the kibosh on her career?”

“Apparently so, and aren’t you the little fountain of information there. I will ask how you knew all of that.”

“Oh, sweetie, it was pretty big news in the industry—well, for those of us who actually follow it,” he said. “I mean, she went from totally chic to totally
screwed
within months. My God, I wonder how much it cost him to dismantle her career like that.”

“I don’t have a clue,” I sighed. “Want me to ask him when I see him in London?”

“Oh, oh—now I get it. You want to win him back, right?”

“You’re delusional,” I said, shooting him a dirty look.”Hey, since you seem to be in the inner circle with international gossip, what’s ol’ Bianca doing these days?”

“Hmm—well, I heard something about a year ago that she and her current lover, Christopher something-or-other are working together. He’s the photographer and she’s working for some French Modeling Agency as a scout/agent. Pretty far down the ladder from the bucks she used to make, I’d say.”

“Poor Bianca,” I replied, very insincerely.

“Darce—”

“I know, Eli. I plan on being careful. I don’t want to jump back on that roller coaster again. I’m just going to totally enjoy fucking with that man’s world for a couple of days. Seems to me he has it coming, you know?”

Eli crossed his arms, giving me a glare. “It’s been
weeks
, Darcy. I thought you were over it. Sounds kinda like you’re up to some retaliation if you plan on going to London looking like Bianca’s kid sister.”

I gave Eli a wink. “You know what they say, Eli?
Revenge
is a dish best served cold. Won’t Easton be surprised by my new look?” I’d giggled and gone to my room to finish packing. Eli had shaken his head in frustration.

“Darcy,” Colin said, “you’ve been over that bloody thing a million times. It’s fine, now relax and try to get your rest. The meeting’s tomorrow, so you need to account for time difference, general jet lag and stress. Everything will be alright.”

“I know, but this is my debut presentation. What if I screw up and lose the account?”

“First off, you won’t screw up, and worst case scenario, it’s a small account, so I doubt whether Easton would fire you anyway,” he replied, his eyes twinkling.

“Oh, bloody hell,” I sighed, closing my laptop. “I guess you’re right.”

He gave me a grin. “Starting to sound like a true Brit, I must say.”

“It’s from listening to you yammer all day long,” I replied smiling. “Bad habit I picked up on the job, I guess.”

Colin may have been too busy looking at my hair to have heard me. “By the way,” he said, and I didn’t like the puzzle-solving look in his eyes. “That’s a very interesting new hairstyle you’re sporting. I can see that you’re going all out for this presentation in every way.”

I avoided eye-contact when his glance made it back to my face. But when I looked back over at him a moment later, his attention was turned back to the magazine he’d been reading.

There was a hired limo waiting for us when the plane landed at Heathrow. I’d been to London several times, so at least it felt familiar.

“Oh, by the way,” Colin began uneasily, “I meant to tell you I had our reservations at the Carlisle cancelled. We’re staying elsewhere this trip.”

“The Langham?” I asked.

“Uh, no. Easton insisted we stay at his manor here. There’s plenty of room and he wants a walk-through of the presentation in case any last minute changes need to be made.”

“But you e-mailed him all the information last week,” I argued.

“Apparently, since this is your solo flight, he wants to make sure for himself. He’ll critique it live before the meeting.”

You don’t say? So, he wants to see the presentation before the meeting? I’ll give him one, alright.

“He’ll be back at the manor around 6:00 this evening and dinner’s scheduled for sevenish. Don’t worry; you’ll be quite comfortable at Easton’s estate.”

“Don’t you have your own place in London?”

“I do. However, it’s a good hour’s drive from the estate. Depending upon how long our meeting with Easton goes this evening, I may try to make it back to my home. I haven’t seen my fiancé for weeks.”

“Oh, Colin, you’ve never mentioned that you were engaged. Have you set a date?”

“Indeed,” he said smiling. “September 14th. We’re getting married in New York.”

“Well, congratulations to you and—”

“Veronica,” he answered. “I call her Ronnie. She’s originally from New York. She worked for Easton at Baronton’s U.S. headquarters there, that’s how we met. Perhaps you’ll have an opportunity to meet her on this trip. I think the both of you would get on nicely.”

“I’d love that,” I replied. It would be nice not to be totally surrounded by testosterone occasionally.

Easton’s manor was breathtakingly beautiful, as I expected. It was more of an estate in my opinion with Tudor architecture, acres of rolling grass, with various well-groomed trees and shrubs, and a long winding drive once we passed through the gates that led up to the stone overhang. Once the chauffeur had removed our luggage from the trunk, the two people from the house staff, a fiftyish woman in a black dress with a crisp white apron, along with a man around the same age in black pants, a white-collared shirt, and black long-tailed jacket where standing on the steps ready to greet us.

“Good afternoon Mr. Devers, Ms. Sheridan, welcome. I hope your trip was uneventful.”

“It was splendid, Anna,” Colin replied, taking my hand to introduce me to these two members of the staff. “Darcy Sheridan, this is Anna Johnson, Easton’s head of staff here at Greystone Manor. I assure you, she’ll see to your every need.”

“It’s very nice to meet you, Anna,” I greeted her warmly, shaking her hand. “I’ll try to keep my needs to a minimum.”

She smiled warmly, wrapping her other hand around mine. “Now, you call on me anytime, day or night, Miss. That’s what I’m here for. Giles, don’t dally there,” she said sternly, talking to the servant beside her. “Ms. Sheridan’s in the guest suite on the east wing. Are you staying the night, Mr. Devers, or will you be returning to Chelsea later?”

“Ah, I’m not sure, Anna. If I had my druthers, I’d be off to Chelsea. I have no idea how long Easton will keep us.”

“What a shame,” she said, shaking her head. “I hope Mr. Matthews appreciates all that you do for him.”

“He’s like a brother to me, Anna. His turn will come to accommodate me sooner than he anticipates,” he laughed. “Ronnie has her heart set on a four-week cruise and, to be honest, I’d prefer Easton’s wrath to hers.”

“As well you should,” she said, shaking a finger at him. She turned to me, taking my arm. “Come dear, I’ll show you the way to your suite. I’m sure you’ll find it quite comfortable.”

“Comfortable” turned out to be an understatement. My suite was 1800 square feet if it was an inch! It was decorated in period Victorian with a large living room, and a study off of that. A wide hallway led to the mammoth master bedroom, that had a walk-in closet/dressing room that was bigger than my bedroom at the apartment, and adjoining master bath that had yet another walk-in closet off of it, a huge marble shower, a bathing area with a huge, gold claw foot tub, and a separate room with the commode, which was a bidet. The fixtures looked to be original. My guess was this house dated back to the early 1900’s. It was exquisite.

I put everything away in the closet that had built-in cedar drawers. I looked at my watch. Easton wouldn’t be back for a couple of hours, so I took advantage of the break and took a quick power nap. I bathed in the luxurious tub, then dressed for dinner, making sure to do the whole routine with the flat iron which, to be honest, was starting to be a pain in the ass.

But no pain, no gain, right? I couldn’t wait to see the bastard’s face when he saw me and my new “look.” I may just have to introduce myself as Bianca when Easton tries to give me the ol’ professional hand shake.

And I
would
do that…If I wasn’t so sure he could run faster than me, that is.

“Don’t worry, Colin. Her screams will die down eventually. Shall we proceed with having port and cigars in the study?”

Yeah, I would pass on that one, I’d decided, while putting some finishing touches on my hair. It had taken some artistic practice, but Eli said I had it down to perfection.

“You could be sisters,” he’d told me when I’d given him a live demo. I was standing in my robe with my hair and makeup done just like Bianca’s had been in the photo. I slowly twirled in a circle, giving him the whole 360-degree view.