Page 41 of The Single Dad

I pick up my glass, staring down at the caramel-colored liquid, and inhale the sweet scent of bourbon. “The last thing you need is to be on the cover of another tabloid,” I tell him.

“Tell me about it,” he agrees, but without much feeling. “She seemed to feel the same way, so we head down the street to the other club. VIP section, of course, ’cause the bouncer immediately recognized her—I didn’t even have to identify myself. We’re sitting in a velvet booth in the back, the music’s loud—”

“And you started fucking in the booth,” Declan interrupts, trying to guess.

Reed scowls at him, clicking his tongue. “No, we did not.” He pauses, hesitating, then finally admits, “There was some… groping. And a little bit of sucking. But the clothes stayed on in the club.”

Declan and I laugh.

“Her bodyguard was right outside the curtain,” Reed says sheepishly. “It would’ve been weird.”

“I still don’t see how this is ‘crazy,’” I say. “You just had a night out with a pop star.”

“Not exactly.” Reed bites his lip. “I thought I was having a night out with a pop star. Then I started to, uh… notice some stuff.”

Declan leans forward, clearly intrigued. “Like what?”

“Well… every star has their signatures,” Reed says. “I’d seen photos of Sofia in the past and started to think that something was a little off. So when ‘Sofia’—” he lifts his fingers to form air quotes— “went to the bathroom, I pulled out my phone and did some searching.”

“And?”

“Sofia Bellafonte has a tiny tattoo of a butterfly on her right shoulder. My Sofia Bellafonte didn’t.”

Declan guffaws, and I snort into my whiskey. Figures. If you’re going to be a player, you’re going to get played.

“So, what—she was an impersonator, or something?” I ask.

Reed shakes his head, a sly grin appearing on his face. “Not even. This is where it gets nuts. It turns out that Sofia has a twin sister.”

Declan chokes on his bourbon, setting the glass down. “No fucking way.”

“Right? Absolutely insane.”

“Did you confront her about it?”

Reed scoffs. “What was I supposed to do, tell her, ‘hey, while you were gone, I Googled you and found out that you’re actually not who you said you were?’” He shakes his head. “No way. I rode it out.”

“Why would she do that?” I wonder aloud. “It’s not like she needs your money, right? Her sister is a pop star. Couldn’t she just—”

“I thought about that, too,” Reed says. He leans back in his chair, tipping his head to one side. “But from what I discovered, it seems that Sofia and Angela Bellafonte don’t exactly get along. They’re basically estranged.”

“God, this just gets messier and messier.” Declan sighs. “So she tried to impersonate her pop star sister to seduce you—either for your money or just to get in your bed.”

“Yeah, that about sums it up,” says Reed.

“What about the bodyguard?” I press. “You said she had a bodyguard.”

“Turned out to be a friend of hers who agreed to a favor.”

After a brief pause, Declan asks the real question that’s lingering in both of our minds: “Wait. What did you do about it?”

“Oh.” Reed’s grin widens. “Well. I fucked her.”

Both of us howl with laughter, almost spilling the whiskey as we jostle the table. Reed reaches out to steady it, one arm folded across his chest.

“Of course you did,” I say, once the laughter has died down.

“Of course I did,” Reed echoes. “I mean, come on. She was a pop star’s identical twin. She was every bit as hot as the real deal. Why would I pass that up?”

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