Chapter Ten
CHAPTER TEN
Mark
D uring the first hour of the trip, I attempted to stay quiet and let the driver believe I was Dylan. It was too much pressure, though, and apparently, Dylan preferred silence so he could work or take calls while being driven around.
I distracted myself with social media and even watched several of Jennifer’s travel vlogs on YouTube to pass the time. Her channel was impressive. Diverse locations, mostly in the United States. But what I enjoyed most was the time she took to interview locals. So, yes, she was pretty and entertaining, but her content was more about the places she visited and the people who lived there.
As good as her videos were, they couldn’t hold my attention. So, I asked the driver if he’d mind passing some time talking. The side-eye he shot me over his shoulder made me wonder how much of a pill Dylan was on the daily.
Steven Milford. Forty-five-year-old, divorced, retired Marine. Said he enjoyed the job because every day was different and it got him out of the house. Plus, he appreciated job security that revolved around punctuality and professionalism rather than ass-kissing.
Okay, so Dylan might not be a ray of sunshine, but at least he was good to the people who worked for him. Steven had done two tours in places he didn’t want to discuss, but he appreciated that his job included health benefits to supplement the VA.
The knowing expression in Steven’s eyes, along with the way he spoke like he was explaining his job to me, made me ask, “You know, don’t you?”
He glanced back at me in the rearview mirror. “Did you think someone who drives Mr. DeVoss around daily wouldn’t?”
I pressed my lips together before saying, “Can we keep that between us? I’ve never done anything like this before. And yeah, it started as a drunken dare that I would’ve called off the next day but... I don’t know. I kind of think your boss needs this win.”
That got Steven’s attention. He looked more interested in the conversation than he had up until that point.
So, I added, “Were you with him when he knew Jennifer?”
Steven shook his head. “No. Mr. DeVoss and I met about seven years ago.”
“Was he always so . . . so . . . angry?”
He let out a gruff laugh. “He was worse.”
I leaned forward. “I want to help him, but he’s a tough one to figure out. And I feel like I need to, for this to work.”
Steven didn’t say anything for several long moments.
Then, finally, “Mr. DeVoss bought and lost a resort down in Connecticut. Had some kind of run-in with the mafia. They not only kicked his ass physically, but their lawyers took his property.”
I blinked. The mafia?
“I found him in an alley next to the bar where I used to drink my paycheck away each week. I drove him to his apartment. I thought he should go to the hospital, but he was convinced that would only give the people after him more access to him. Considering the shape he was in, I believed him. So, I stayed—to make sure he didn’t die, either from them or his injuries.”
Steven smiled, shaking his head at the memory. “The next day, he offered me a job to drive him around. I declined. He didn’t look like anyone I’d want to work for. But he told me this was just a setback—one that would only motivate him more. And if I stuck with him, he’d make me the best-paid driver in the US.”
His smile widened. “I shouldn’t brag, but he kept that promise.”
That amount of sharing had me opening up.
I told him who I really was. How attending a celebrity look-alike event had somehow turned into me pretending to be Dylan long enough to find out why Jennifer broke off their engagement.
“Maybe I’ve watched too many romantic comedies with my mother, but I’d like to think there’s always hope.” I exhaled, glancing out the window. “They were young. People make mistakes. But if he still thinks about her now, all these years later, maybe he still loves her. And if he does, there’s a chance she might feel the same.”
I shook my head. “The world is a funny place. It plays by rules we may never fully understand. I have to believe that meeting someone who looks exactly like me doesn’t happen for no reason. This is part of a bigger plan. It must be. And if that plan makes any sense at all, coming here to meet Jennifer has to be about one of two things—either giving them both closure... or bringing them back together.”
Steven frowned. “Are you fucking with me?”
“No. I believe things happen for a reason, and in the end, if you stay positive, they tend to work out.”
“They don’t,” he growled. “But I guess you’ll have to find that out on your own.”
He pulled off the main highway and into a high-end store specializing in suits and upscale clothing. Apparently, what I considered business casual needed some tweaking.
When we were back on the road, heading toward the hotel where Jennifer was staying, I asked, “If you’re so sure I’ll fail, why are you helping me?”
“I’m not sure of anything but death and taxes,” he answered abruptly.
It wasn’t hard to see how Dylan and Steven had bonded.
Steven continued, “I’ve seen a lot of the shitty side of humanity. Our views on how the universe works couldn’t be more different.” He met my gaze in the mirror. “But it would be nice if you proved me wrong.”
I sat back, mulling over our exchange for the rest of the ride to Hanover Falls.
The town itself stood like a testament to hope. It belonged in a Christmas movie, even off-season—cobblestone streets, colonial-style storefronts, and signs boasting organic this and hand-crafted that. The perfect backdrop for a successful doppelg?nger dare.
After being escorted to my luxury suite by both a hotel staff member and Steven, I walked from room to room, shaking my head at the extravagance.
Dylan had insisted on covering my expenses for this trip, and thank God he did, because I would have had to sell my truck—and probably a kidney—to afford to stay in a place like this.
Alone in the ridiculous opulence, I grabbed my phone and dialed Dylan’s number.
He picked up after the second ring. “DeVoss.”
Who answers with their own name? I mean, I called him. Did he think that between choosing his number and hitting call, I had time to forget?
“Don’t sound so happy to hear from me,” I said, stretching out on the chaise by the window. “I thought you’d want an update from your stand-in.”
“Update? Have you met with Jennifer already?” His tone wasn’t as calm as usual.
“Not yet, but I’m sitting in a room so fancy there’s a plate of chocolates and fresh fruit. I can eat that, right? They won’t charge you extra?”
Dylan groaned. “It’s all included. Eat away.”
“If I ask, you think they’ll bring me the kind of robe people wear at hotels in the movies? I’ve always wanted to greet room service in one of those.”
“I’m sure there’s one in the closet. And please don’t do that to the staff,” he said dryly.
“Right. That might be weird. Maybe I’ll just take a few photos of myself in it.”
“Because that’s normal.”
“Listen, Sunshine, just because you’re used to this kind of lifestyle doesn’t mean you need to piss on my enjoyment of it. I’ve decided that when that butler—or whoever it was who gave me a tour of the suite—comes back and asks if I need anything, my response will always be yes. Just yes. Then I’ll see what he brings.”
“That’s not a good idea, either.”
“Why? What would he bring me?”
“I have no idea, but I’m sure it wouldn’t be good.”
“You’re no fun.”
“I’ll call the hotel and leave instructions for you to be taken care of—but not bothered.”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
When he didn’t respond, I decided to stop teasing him.
“How are things on your end? Enjoying driving my truck?”
“Funny,” Dylan said, though his tone made it clear he wasn’t laughing. “Let’s just say I’m not used to smelling like the vehicle I drove for hours after I leave it.”
“That’s the maple syrup,” I said, grinning. “No matter how much I clean her, the scent of spills remains.”
“Delightful.”
I couldn’t wait another moment. “How’d it go with Lanie? Did you find her?”
“I did. I sought her out while she was tuning a piano at a hotel. We talked, then made arrangements to meet up again this morning.”
“Oh, good. And?”
There was a long pause before Dylan answered.
“I wish I had better news for you.”
“Just say it. I don’t need you to sugarcoat what you learned.”
His tone was cold, businesslike. “She’s moved on. She doesn’t have lingering feelings for you. I’m sorry.”
I leaned back, disappointment settling over me like a weight. “She said that?”
“She made her feelings pretty clear, although she did apologize for choosing to end your friendship rather than maintain it.”
Disappointment filled me. “That sounds definitive.”
“I’d say so.”
Running a hand through my hair, I muttered, “Considering how things ended with us, I suppose I can’t blame her.”
“Ended with you? You said you were just friends.”
“That’s the truth, but we were almost more. If I’d controlled my temper, we might have been.”
“Whoa, that’s not good.”
I sat up straight, immediately realizing his misunderstanding. “No. No. I didn’t touch her. I’d never. But I did beat the shit out of two football players who thought they could make fun of her with me around.”
“I can stand behind that.”
With a snort of disgust, I said, “It was a decision that came with consequences. I was arrested, removed from the soccer team, lost my scholarships, and things got a little dicey between my parents and the police for a while.”
“Is that why you didn’t go to college?”
“Yes and no. I could have gone to a state school, but I didn’t want to leave my parents with the mess I’d made. Small-town police departments can be vindictive, and one of the guys I took down had a dad who was on the force.”
Dylan’s voice was sharp. “Is he still a problem?”
The way he asked made it sound like he was ready to handle the situation himself.
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “The son got into a DUI accident a few towns over. His father tried to cover it up, got fired for it, and the family moved away. Nobody misses them.”
“What about the other kid?”
“We’re friends now. He was drunk and being stupid. When I got kicked off the soccer team, he quit in protest. I couldn’t stay mad at him after that. We all fuck up sometimes.”
Dylan was quiet for a beat before saying, “Mark, I’ve been thinking. Don’t meet with Jennifer. Enjoy the hotel. Order all the room service you can stuff down. But this whole idea of pretending to be each other was stupid. I shouldn’t have agreed to it.”
It was obvious he felt bad that he hadn’t been able to bring me good news about Lanie. And knowing he’d lost both Jennifer and ties to his adoptive parents over whatever had happened with her, I figured he was afraid I’d uncover something just as painful.
That only made me want to do this for him more.
“I’m already here,” I said firmly. “I’ve got things squared away at home, and I have a good feeling about this. You deserve the truth about what happened. I can find that out for you. And, all joking aside, I won’t do it in a way that embarrasses you or her.”
“You barely know me,” he growled.
“That’s not how it feels,” I said quietly. “At least, not on my side. I realize all we share are similar features, but I want this for you.”
“I don’t understand you,” he said, his voice gruff.
“I think you do. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have gone to find Lanie.”
Dylan made an unhappy guttural sound, but when he spoke again, his voice had softened.
“Mark, I wish things had gone better with Lanie. When you get back, I’ll make it up to you. I’ll put in a big order for your syrup and hit up some local restaurants to see if they’re interested in carrying it as well.”
“You don’t have to do that,” I said, shaking my head.
“I want to,” Dylan insisted. “Business is what I’m good at. Let me handle this.”
“Alright,” I said. “Thanks, Dylan.”
The line went quiet for a moment before I spoke again.
“Can I ask you something? About Jennifer?”
“Shoot.”
“What happened? I mean, really happened between you and Jennifer?”
Dylan sighed. “She thought I cheated. Claimed she had proof, but it was crap. Didn’t matter what I said—she didn’t believe me. And my parents believed her too.”
“That must’ve been rough,” I said.
“It was,” Dylan admitted. “But what was I supposed to do? Grovel? My parents sided with her. No one had time for the truth. My parents held my inheritance over my head, told me they would cut me off if I didn’t change. Change what? I hadn’t so much as looked at another woman. I loved Jennifer. But it wasn’t enough.”
“What was the last conversation you had with her?” I asked.
“The night she gave me the ring back,” Dylan said, his voice tighter now. “Same night I walked away from my parents. They thought I needed them. That I’d beg to get back into their good graces. But I didn’t. I picked myself up and started over. Everything I have today, I did on my own.”
“I’m sorry, Dylan,” I said quietly.
“Don’t be. I’m not,” he muttered. “Love’s an empty word, Mark. People throw it around, but as soon as it’s tested, it doesn’t mean anything.”
“That’s not true,” I said, shaking my head, even though he couldn’t see me.
“You’ll see. Go talk to Jennifer, not for me, but for you. Go see how little people really mean it when they say they love you. Maybe that knowledge will allow you to see that Lanie cutting you loose before you made a fool of yourself over her was a gift.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way, but my parents have been married for over fifty years, and they’re still devoted to each other. They’d do anything for each other—or for me.”
When Dylan finally spoke, his voice was thick with emotion.
“Fine. Talk to Jennifer. Just don’t tell her you’re not me. Or do. I really don’t care how this unfolds at this point.”
He ended the call before I could assure him I would handle this well.
Pacing the length of the living room, I thought about how Dylan and I could look so similar and yet see the world so differently.
Maybe he was an ass—but he was also a survivor. Someone who kept his promises, even when the world let him down.
He deserved better than what life had thrown at him.
Had Jennifer ever loved him?
Did she still have feelings for him?
Either way, I was going to find out.
For Dylan’s sake—and maybe a little for mine.