Twenty-Two
Max
"Man, you really need to get glasses or something if you still don't recognize the Stratton sisters," Landon said in the seat beside me.
"Or just get the surgery," Gabriel suggested. "It worked amazingly well for me."
"Yeah, I'll look into that," I said dismissively, hoping they'd move on.
"The Stratton sisters are all hot as fuck." Xavier craned his neck from the front, giving his two cents. "You're missing out if you can't see them properly."
Landon nodded his head. "Aria's off the market now, but as far as I know the other two are still available."
Something about that pissed me off. "They're not pieces of meat."
"I know that. Jesus. I'm not a fucking Neanderthal. I'm just saying whoever they end up with will be very lucky."
"You can say that again," someone said, not that I cared who.
At this point, I'd tuned out, because all I could think about was that brief moment of eye contact with Annalise Stratton, any face blindness I had disappearing in a flash. I knew her. I more than knew her somehow.
And I couldn't quite figure out how.
Her eyes told a story, a story that I felt to the depths of my soul, a feeling that no one else in the world gave me except one single person. And that person was Dee.
So what the fuck was this all about?
It was an irritating puzzle, one I couldn't piece together the entire ride home while the car dropped the others off first. And by the time I rode up in my elevator, that agitation had only grown, the feeling unusual for me.
Normally, I was pretty happy and content with my life. But between this strange vibe left over from tonight and the fact that I hadn't told Cordelia the truth about me and couldn't until our date, I was full of tension, everything gnawing at me.
The second I walked in, my grandma pounced on me. "What's Dee's last name?"
I shoved off my shoes and pushed them to the side. "Hmm? It's Dole. Why?"
"Dole? Like the fruit?"
"Yep. And my supposed last name is Jensen. Jared Jensen. Always be thinking alliteration," I said out loud, her expression turning to confusion at my goofy comment. "Uh, never mind. Just a joke."
"That's nice, dear."
Her dismissive tone made me smile as I followed her into the living room where she sat down in her favorite chair, phone in hand. She was deeply immersed in something because she usually peppered me with questions whenever I came home and she was here.
"Is Mom still out with her friends?" I asked.
"Hmm? Oh, yes. She is," she answered, not looking up, clearly absorbed in whatever task had her preoccupied.
"Why'd you want to know Cordelia's last name again?"
But I might as well have been talking to myself because she didn't pay me the slightest bit of attention. Boy, whatever she was doing, she was obsessed to be acting so out of character. Was it something she'd been watching on TV? Some true crime she was determined to solve?
"Do you have a photo of Cordelia?" she asked, finally looking up, her eyes sharp with her mission.
What an odd request. "Um, yeah. Let me see."
I scrolled through my phone but didn't have to go back very far to find a picture I'd taken of Cordelia and Mona right before we'd all boarded the bus to come home from the retreat. I'd stared at it an embarrassing number of times, studying everything about her face, her smile, how damn cute she was, especially with that knowing little twinkle in her eye that to me screamed secret hot tub rendezvous.
Of course not saying a word about that , I handed the phone over to Nana. "Here's one. She's on the left."
She studied it, going back and forth between my phone and something on her own screen, something I couldn't see from this angle. Craning my neck, I caught a glimpse as she blew up an image on her phone, and I spotted a woman with dark hair.
"Who's that?"
After another few moments of intense silence as she examined the two photos, she finally turned to me, a triumphant gleam in her eyes.
"I think you aren't the only one currently undercover at Insight Ink," she said.
"Excuse me? What?"
She handed both phones over to me. "Take a look at these two photos and see if you see what I see."
The picture of Dee was still on my phone, but Nana had adjusted it to zoom in on her, cropping out Mona. Next, I looked at Nana's cell and saw that photo of a dark-haired woman, an inkling of familiarity swirling through me.
At first glance, these women had nothing in common. Where Dee's hair was shoulder length and blonde, the other had long dark waves.
"Who is this?" I started to ask. But then it dawned on me. This was Annalise Stratton, the very woman I'd seen tonight outside the Astoria Club. And I was no expert on dresses, but it looked like the same black number she'd been wearing. "Is this from tonight?"
"It is," she said, smug satisfaction lacing her voice.
My eyes darted between the two photos, Nana's words ringing in my head about me not being the only one undercover, my heart starting to race as I played that old game of spot the difference.
But the thing was, besides the hair and glasses that Dee occasionally wore, there was no difference. Same height. Same frame. Same cute nose. Same eyes. Same heart-shaped face.
"What the fuck? This can't be real. This... this..."
"Watch your mouth, young man."
"Sorry, Nana. I'm just in shock. Because this can't be real. You think Cordelia Dole is actually Annalise Stratton? Is this a joke?"
"I don't think so, dear. I saw this photo from tonight, some anniversary party, and she caught my eye. I never forget a face, and I just knew I knew her, if that makes sense."
"Nothing about this makes any sense. She can't be the same person. Why? Just why would she even do something like that?"
Her delicate shoulders lifted in a shrug. "I don't know. I hadn't thought that far yet. But maybe she just wanted to be someone else for a change, walk in someone else's shoes that doesn't have the last name Stratton."
Stunned, I sat there looking out the window, wondering if this could indeed be true. What were the fucking odds of two people going undercover at the same time at the same company and being asked to work together?
I had to call her, to set this thing straight. It couldn't wait until tomorrow.
Swiping the picture away, I found her number, ready to confront her, but Nana's cool hand on my arm stopped me.
"It's pretty late, Maxie. Maybe it's best to wait until morning to talk to her."
I looked at the time. Almost midnight.
Fuck .
"I'll let that one go," Nana said, making me realize I'd sworn out loud.
Something completely out of character.
I couldn't remember the last time I'd felt this way, like I was going to lose it, like my mind was spinning out of control and I was teetering on the edge of reason. Not even when what's her name had broken off our engagement.
That had made me pissed more than anything.
But this?
My whole world had imploded, making me question every single thing that had ever happened between Cordelia-slash-Annalise— Annalise Stratton? —and me.
And then I remembered how much she hated me, the real me, making me rack my brain as to why. What had I ever done to Annalise Stratton?
Absolutely nothing.
There was nothing there. I'd never tried to flirt with her, never insulted her, her sisters, or her parents.
I'd never done a damn thing to the Stratton family, so why all the hate?
"I think..." Nana interrupted my whirling thoughts. "I think you should ask her about it in the morning, in private, and see what her reaction is, what she says about it all."
"That's a good idea."
"It's the only way to know for sure."
I nodded, shocked numbness settling in. "Okay."
"And you should probably tell her about yourself while you're at it." She laughed. "It's kind of funny really."
"Funny?"
"Yes. Funny. When you get to be my age, you better find the humor in everything or else you just turn bitter, mean, and angry. I've seen it time and time again. Sadly, most of my friends went the bitter route, and I'm determined not to."
Once again, she'd hit me with her wisdom.
Her feather soft hand touched my arm again, drawing my attention to her face. "Do you like her?" she asked.
"That's a tough question because I did . I really, really liked Cordelia. But I don't know Annalise. And I'm not sure I care to."
"Why not?"
"Because she hates me. Or Dee does. Or..." I ran a hand over my face. "God. I don't even know what I'm saying. It's all such a fu—" I stopped myself just in time. "Mess. A huge, gigantic, stupid, idiotic mess. And I'm not sure the way out."
"Well, that's because you're in it now. You're down in the well."
"Deep down in it," I agreed.
"But I know you'll find your way out. And even better, you'll find your way out with this young lady. Together. The way it's meant to be."
"Maybe. We'll see."
" If it's meant to be," she amended, "you will. If not? Well, you'll find another way."
I still couldn't wrap my head around this idea, this insanity that Dee and I had both presented false identities to each other. How was such a thing even possible?
Nina from HR. She was another person I needed to speak to immediately tomorrow, the only employee at Insight Ink who knew my real identity. Did she know about Dee/Annalise as well? Or had Annalise completely fooled her along with every other person in the office?
A sick feeling spread in my gut as I thought about the day ahead of me. Everything I'd built with Dee was on the verge of crumbling, and it made me ill to think about it all falling apart. I didn't want to lose her. But maybe I already had.