BEVERLY BARTON - Beg To Die

“Mr. McCord, you have a very vivid imagination. Jamie didn’t use and abuse me, although he would have if I’d given him a chance. I’m here strictly out of curiosity. I want to meet Jasmine Talbot.”

“Then come right on in with me and I’ll introduce you to her.” Caleb held open the door, then followed Reve into the restaurant.

The hostess, whose name tag read Tiffany, rushed forward, then stopped dead in her tracks. Her pink lips formed an oval as she gasped in surprise when she looked at Reve.

“We want a booth,” Caleb said. “Two cups of coffee. Black?” he asked Reve.

“Cream, no sugar,” she replied.

“And ask Jazzy to join us. Tell her I’ve got a little surprise for her.”

“I’ll say you do. Who is she?” Tiffany looked at Reve. “I mean, who are you, ma’am? I can’t get over how much you look like Jazzy.”

“So everyone keeps telling me.”

“Second booth on the left, by the windows,” Tiffany said. “I’ll tell Jazzy and then get the coffee.”

As they headed for the booth, several heads turned and more than one set of eyes stared unabashedly at Reve as she walked by. All of a sudden she wasn’t so sure coming here like this had been such a good idea. Maybe she should have called Jasmine Talbot first and asked her a few questions. Maybe she should have telephoned Jamie and asked him to set up a meeting between her and her so-called twin.

By the time they sat down and Reve began to relax, whispers and murmurs surrounded them. Tiffany came rushing back to their booth, a coffeepot in hand. She flipped over the cups already on the table and poured the steaming brew, then reached in her apron and produced several small containers of half-and-half, which she placed by Reve’s cup.

“Jazzy will be right out. She’s just finishing up breakfast in her office with her aunt Sally and Ludie. Ludie brought in some pies she’d baked yesterday, so we’d have them for today’s lunch crowd.”

“Did you mention that I had a lady with me who just happens to be Jazzy’s spitting image?” Caleb asked.

“I just told her that you wanted her to come out and meet a lady you had with you and that she was in for quite a surprise when she saw the lady.”

No sooner had Tiffany walked away than Caleb stood up beside the booth, an odd grin on his face. Reve turned just enough to glance over her shoulder. The bottom dropped out of her stomach. The woman walking toward them wore skintight jeans, a bright yellow T-shirt that accentuated her large breasts, and sported a short, flyaway haircut that proclaimed her stylish and hip. Jasmine Talbot was strikingly attractive. And very sexy. Two things Reve Sorrell wasn’t. But the body was similar to hers, although hers was well camouflaged beneath classically tailored pinstriped black slacks, a black blazer, and a white shirt. And the woman’s every feature was a perfect match to Reve’s. Same forehead, eyes, nose, mouth, ears, long neck, cheekbones, chin.

A cold fear encompassed Reve as Jazzy drew near. There was no way someone could look that much like another person without them being related. That meant this woman could very well be her sister, maybe her twin sister.

Jazzy stopped several feet away as Reve turned around fully and their gazes locked. She noted the same shock, the same uncertainty, and the same unanswered questions in Jasmine Talbot’s eyes that plagued her. Green eyes, not brown, she noted. But what had McCord said? Something about Jazzy wearing contacts.

Caleb walked over to Jazzy and urged her into motion. “Come on over and meet another one of Jamie’s lady friends. It seems you two have even more in common than just being Jamie Upton’s type.”

“What is this?” Jazzy asked as she came within a foot of Reve and glared at her. “Who are you?”

“Reve Sorrell.”

Jazzy looked at Caleb. “How do you know this woman?”

“I just met her outside a few minutes ago. She mentioned that Jamie had suggested she come to Cherokee Pointe and meet you. It would seem that Jamie found an almost perfect substitute for you.”

While Caleb watched Jazzy speculatively, Reve picked up on a wild, angry tension smoldering inside him. God, what had she gotten herself into?

“Look,” Reve said, “the reason I’m here really has nothing to do with Jamie, it’s just that—”

“Why don’t you tell the lady that Jamie no longer needs a substitute,” Caleb said, “that as of last night, he’s got the original back in his bed?”

Jazzy glowered at Caleb. Her cheeks flushed. “What were you doing, standing outside my apartment, watching me in the middle of the night?”

Jazzy glanced around, apparently checking to see if anyone was listening to their conversation. Since all eyes were focused on the three of them, it was obvious that anyone within hearing distance was privy to what was being said. Reve knew for sure and certain she had inadvertently walked into the middle of what seemed to be a lover’s triangle: Caleb McCord, Jazzy Talbot, and Jamie Upton.

“I just happened to notice Upton’s Mercedes at your place last night when I left work. I helped Lacy close up the place after you left,” Caleb replied. “I don’t give a shit who you screw, but from now on, don’t pretend you want him out of your life. You’ve wasted my time and energy by getting me to throw him out of Jazzy’s Joint time and again, when apparently all you were doing was titillating him, making him want you all the more. You know what that makes you in my book?”

Jazzy slapped Caleb McCord. Right there in the middle of the restaurant. Reve gasped, shocked by the woman’s actions. A lady never reacted in such a coarse, crude manner. Certainly never in public. But then, from all accounts, Jazzy Talbot was no lady.

Being involved, even as a bystander, to this sort of crude behavior was not what she’d bargained for when she decided to make this trip. Get the hell out of here now, she told herself. Go home to Chattanooga and forget there’s a woman here in Cherokee Pointe who might be your twin. You don’t want to be related to a woman like Jazzy Talbot.

While the attentive clientele absorbed the scene between Jazzy and Caleb, Reve picked up her purse from the booth, then turned and all but ran from the restaurant. Before she reached the door, she heard a man’s voice calling her name, but she didn’t slow down, didn’t look back to see who it was.

Just as she got outside and took a deep breath, a familiar hand clamped down on her shoulder. “Don’t run off,” Caleb said.

Reve swallowed, then turned to face him. “Please, leave me alone.”

“I apologize for what happened back there. Jazzy and I tend to ignite sparks off each other. And I did deserve that slap she gave me. Come on back and—”

“No, thank you. I’ve seen quite enough of Jasmine Talbot.”

“Don’t judge Jazzy by what happened in there. If you’d give yourself a chance to get to know her, you’d like her. She’s all right, you know. Her only problem is that she’s addicted to Jamie Upton. And I suspect you might have that same addiction.”

“I assure you, Mr. McCord, I do not.”

Caleb laced Reve’s arm through his. “If that’s true, then maybe I’ve been trying to score points with the wrong redhead.”

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