Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 98566 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98566 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
One whole case was full of shoes, most of them towering heels I was going to need practice to walk in. I picked up a pair at random and—
Oh, no….
I tried another pair, but they were no better. Christina was a full shoe size smaller than me.
No one had thought to measure our feet. Shit! How could all of us have missed something so obvious? I could buy a few replacement pairs for now, but when I got to the mansion, none of Christina’s shoes were going to fit. I slumped down on the couch, my heart hammering in my chest. What else haven’t we thought of? If I messed this up, if I was even a little off in my portrayal of Christina, Konstantin would know.
On my way to work, I had my hair dyed black and cut and styled just like Christina’s. With my newly-blue eyes, the effect was uncanny.
When I arrived at Calahan’s desk, he glanced up and then jumped to his feet. It was the first time he’d seen the full effect and he actually reached for his gun, thinking Christina had somehow escaped. Then he just stared at me sadly.
“Not bad, right?” I quipped. “Now I can find out what it’s like to be a ten.”
His mouth tightened. “You were—”
I frowned, curious.
He looked away and shook his head. “Nothing.” He waved his hand at the dress, the hair, the whole thing. “It’s good. You look just like her.” And he turned and stalked away.
For the next two weeks, I practiced moving like her, laughing like her, tossing my hair like her. I immersed myself in Christina and wouldn’t let myself surface, like an actor who won’t come out of character. It was the only way I could do it in time. We called in a hair and makeup expert and she coached me on how to use the high-end products Christina used. The upkeep was going to be a nightmare, but I had to get used to it. A tattoo artist came in, his jeans and t-shirt incongruous in the FBI offices, and I knelt astride a chair, wincing, while he tattooed a bird on my lower back. My freckles were removed to give me Christina’s flawless complexion.
I worked on my posture, trying to walk upright and proud, with my head held high. I made my movements languid and seductive, instead of awkward and jerky. As I moved around the building, men from other departments—men who’d seen me a hundred times as Hailey and ignored me—tried to chat me up. Is this what it’s like to be beautiful? But that wasn’t all that was going on. I was holding myself differently, making eye contact….
I wasn’t hiding, anymore.
It felt wrong. I was in a constant state of panic. How dare I be the center of attention? Any second, everyone would realize I was faking it, they’d see I was no one and laugh at me. But I forced myself to keep going.
On the morning I was due to enter Konstantin’s life, my phone rang.
“Hello?” I said.
Silence from the other end. Then, tentatively, “Hailey?”
Oh, shit! It was my mom, and I was still doing my Christina voice. I switched back to Hailey and—
For a sickening moment, I couldn’t find Hailey’s voice. After weeks of that polished, precise voice, I’d forgotten what I sounded like. Then it clicked into place. “Mom!”
“Are you alright? You sounded different.”
I couldn’t tell her. I couldn’t even hint at what I was doing. Losing my dad had torn her apart. If she thought I was in danger, too…. “I’m fine. Getting over a cold. Listen, I have to go on a training course. A few weeks, maybe a month….”
I told her I’d make sure to put enough money into her bank account to cover any medical bills while I was away. Things were tight: the bills were brutal and my FBI salary wasn’t high. It made Christina’s lavish lifestyle seem sickening. I was going to be living like a billionaire, but at the same time, I could barely take care of my mom.
Calahan arrived with my plane tickets. Konstantin was expecting to see me get off a flight from Italy so I had to fly there, then fly back to New York and meet him at the airport.
He passed me a tiny earpiece, no bigger than a grain of rice, and helped me glue it out of sight inside my ear. “There’ll be someone at the other end of this twenty-four seven,” he told me. “And most of the time it’ll be me.” I nodded gratefully.
He showed me Christina’s luggage and then the secret compartment he’d fitted into one of the cases. Inside was my FBI ID and a gun. “Just in case things go south,” he told me.
I blanched. I’d never even fired a gun. Calahan patiently took me through how to handle it and aim it, while I watched and nodded and tried not to sound terrified. If Konstantin found me out, would I even have time to grab it?