Page 7 of Love In Hiding

“If it comes out, it does,” Paris said. “Everyone knows West doesn’t play favorites so let it go.”

She pushed her shoulders back, heard the crack and the pop, then spun around the room with her arms out.

Her sister was laughing, then joined in.

“There,” she said. “I feel so much better now. It’s ours. All ours.”

“Sixty percent is ours. Thirty to West, ten to Dad.”

She laughed. “Good old Dad. He didn’t have to do this. I feel kind of bad. I mean there are nine of us. He can’t do this for everyone.”

“He’s not,” Paris said. “But he has money in Phoenix’s business. He said he’d help anyone or everyone he could.”

“He put us all through college,” she argued. “Give me a break.”

“He’s not hurting and you know it,” her sister said. “Let him have his fun. He’ll be hands off.”

“I know. I just thought, or hoped we could do it alone. Wishful thinking on my part.”

“Yeah, well, Phoenix thought he could do it alone too and look at how much better and more successful he is nowthat he swallowed his pride and let West in. Even having Nelson there for months with the changes helped.”

“And now it’s up to us to do a lot of what Nelson and Laken did while they tackle other things,” she said. “I’m so nervous. Why am I nervous?”

“Because it means so much,” Paris said, moving over and pulling her into an embrace. She held on like she had in the womb, she was positive.

Everyone said London was the stronger twin. The more outspoken. The one who rubbed people the wrong way.

Paris was the one who held everything together. Her sister was the quiet anchor that let London step forward, take the hits, take the heat, absorb every snide comment or bruised ego before it ever reached them. Paris kept the center steady. London guarded the perimeter.

Being the older one by nine minutes made it feel like her job. Her responsibility. Her role since birth.

“Anyone in here?”

“Coming,” London yelled, her sister covering her ears.

They left her office, walked down the hall passing the bathroom, the conference room, and two rooms that would be used for other employees in the future. Rooms that would hold several cubicles in them.

The minute they hit the reception area, right past the empty desk that their new assistant would start at next week, there was a man standing there.

A very attractive man.

Gray trousers, sleek gray sneakers that still somehow looked expensive, a light pink shirt threaded with white stripes that should have looked soft but didn’t on him. His brown hair was short, neat, styled but nowhere near fussy.

His eyes moved over her first, slowly assessing, then shifted to Paris, then back to her again. Not leering. Notshy. Just…taking inventory. Noting similarities and differences.

They weren’t identical. Never had been.

But there was no universe where you could look at them andnotsee they were twins.

“Hi,” he said, moving forward. “Just coming to introduce myself. I’m Spencer Jensen. We’ll be working together a lot it seems.”

His voice, it was deep yet almost silky. A kind of calmness that her sister had, but when her hand touched his, there was nothing calm in it.

There was heat slapping her palm, racing up her arm and crashing in her chest.

“London Westerly. My sister, Paris.”

Spencer shook Paris’s hand next. “Nice to meet you. Braylon told us we’d be working with you soon. It was nice of you to come down and introduce yourself.”