The Enemy Next Door: A Broken Woman and a Single Dad Romance by Claire Angel

Author:Claire Angel [Angel, Claire]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-08-24T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Lindsey

If she’d hit me across the head with a baseball bat, she couldn’t have stunned me more. Certain that I gaped with my mouth open, unable to shut it, my first instinctive response was to deny it. Accuse her of lying. But her eyes. I swear in looking into them, I stared into a mirror. Her hair. Long, thick, and might be a twin to mine if I hadn’t put in streaks.

“What?” I know I sounded stupid, nor could I help myself.

“I know this must be a shock,” she said. “I didn’t know you existed until a few months ago. It shocked me, too.”

My disconnected thoughts ran in a hundred different directions at the same time. “How’d you find out? What makes you so sure?”

Stacy licked her lips. “Look, can we go someplace? Maybe for dinner? My treat. I’ll tell you what I know.”

“Are we –” I swallowed, then tried again. “Are we really related? Sisters?”

“I’m afraid so. I’m scared to say what I came here to say, Lindsey. I have to.” Her mouth tightened.

“Tell me what?”

“Our parents are dead.” She licked her lips again, glancing aside. “They never told me about you. I came across your birth certificate while going through their house. I’m so sorry.”

That my parents were dead affected me far more than I’d ever dreamed possible. They didn’t love me. They’d left me. All my life I waited for them to return, to apologize, give me a good reason why they had to go away. Now they’re dead. And I’ll never get closure.

Numb, my crazy thoughts immobile for the moment, I turned toward my door. “Come in.”

The cats, as usual, clustered around the entrance, crying, plaintively informing me they’d been lost all day long without my being there. Wading through them, I beckoned Stacy in.

“Don’t mind them,” I said. “They’re needy.”

“I adore cats.”

She crouched, letting my cats sniff her fingers, her jeans, checking her over before running after me in an effort to rub against my ankles. Stacy followed me into the kitchen where I began dinner proceedings.

“You have a nice house.”

“Thanks. I got lucky.”

I observed her wandering into my library area to study my collection. “You’re a fan of Lindsey Blackwood?” she asked. “I love her writing, she’s so talented.”

“I am Lindsey Blackwood.”

Stacy now gaped as I had gaped earlier. “No way.”

She yanked a book off the shelf, then flipped to the back cover. Her eyes wide, she compared my photo to the real me. “Oh my God.” Then she squealed. “The great Lindsey Blackwood is my sister! I love it.”

I chuckled and gave the cats their dinner. “Yay. Like I said, I got lucky.”

“That’s no luck,” she replied, grinning. “You have an exceptional talent. It’s no wonder you’re famous.”

“I can cook us something here,” I began, but Stacy shook her head before I finished my sentence.

“No. I think we should get to know one another on neutral ground. Besides, I offered. What’s good to eat around here?”

We drove in separate cars to a popular Mexican restaurant.

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