Page 21 of The Trouble with Love and Ink
“Please. I know I have no right to put this on you, but this business has meant so much to me. I don’t want to see it tank yet. I just need you to finish this client, and then I’ll start opening my business to people in Florida.”
“You’re right. You don’t have a right to put this on me,” I said, feeling the full weight of her absence. She looked like I’d struck her. Those big blue eyes I’d always been jealous of seemed to get even bigger—puppy dog begging big. I sighed, relenting, of course, because I was always a huge softie when it came to her. “But I will at least go to the meeting.”
“Thank you! Thank you!” She paused her praise as something like doubt crept across her features. “But you know you have to pretend to be me. Right?”
“What? Why?” We hadn’t discussed this when I agreed to take the job.
“Because wouldn’t you be pissed if your calligrapher quit and sent in her little sister instead?”
I snorted. Hailey was only fourteen months older than me, and I’d had over a decade longer of practicing calligraphy. “Yeah. You’re right. She has no idea I’m the better calligrapher.”
“I want you to bottle up this confidence for the next time you have a panic attack over Victoria’s wedding.”
My mom, who usually left Hailey and me to work things out for ourselves, shook her head. She neatly placed a stack of clothes into a box and then turned to face us. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to have Emily pretend to be you, Hailey.”
“Me either,” I said. “Besides, how would that even work? Haven’t you two already met?”
“No. I met with the first wedding planner, Darcy. But Darcy was replaced by Amanda.”
“Why? What happened?”
“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “Probably couldn’t hang.”
I swallowed. Great. Victoria is possibly a bridezilla with a penchant for firing the wedding staff. What could go wrong?
“So,” Hailey continued, “it shouldn’t be an issue.”
“What about social media? She could already know what you look like.”
“My accounts are private. I don’t accept requests from clients, not that she has sent a request anyway.”
“Yeah, but anyone can see your profile picture.”
“Which is?”
I thought about it. She hardly ever changed her profile picture. The one she had now for Facebook and Instagram had been taken years ago when she visited Enchanted Rock. The photo was of her back, arms outstretched as she looked at the landscape. Her red hair, the same color as mine, nearly glowed in the setting sun.
“The Enchanted Rock picture,” I answered.
“And faceless. I have no plans on changing it.”
“This . . . could work,” I mused.
“It could,” she said, smiling. “Oh, before I forget.” She nodded toward a box at the foot of her bed. “Take that home with you. It’s for a couple of her projects. There’s printouts of exactly what she wants. It’s very basic—should be no problem for a pro like you.”
“Oh good.” I rolled the packing tape loudly across a box. “So, I just have to . . . do all the work.”
“Oh my god!” I laughed at her exclamation. “I am done with all your complaining. You are totally killing the vibe Mom and I had before you got here.”
“I think Florida life has ruined you. Everything has to be a party now.”
“I was always like that,” Hailey said, dropping another book into the box before sticking her tongue out at me.
“Speaking of Florida, when are we going to meet Braxton?” Mom asked.
“Yeah,” I said. “I have a few words I’d like to exchange with the man who stole my sister.”
Hailey snorted. “I don’t know. He’s busy establishing his business in Key West. I’m sure you’ll be able to meet him soon.”
