Page 36 of About Last Night

By Friday the presentation was ready, and Toni stood at the front of the conference room and fidgeted from foot to foot, looking ill at ease and struggling to put a coherent sentence together. She was a little better each time, but something would trip her up and she would go back to the beginning to start over. When I saw sweat run down her temple, I knew that as confident as Toni is in other areas of her life, public speaking isn’t one of them.

After a week of working with Toni, soaking in her enthusiasm, and marveling at her knowledge, I was as invested in her vision for the adventure division, and as sure of its success, as she was. Failure wasn’t an option, so I needed to get creative. I invited the sisters over for dinner under the guise of us all getting to know each other better. The invitation caught Willa as off guard as it did Greta and Toni, since she’s usually the one offering invitations and planning our social life. But she was onboard immediately, and when I told her the reason her enthusiasm only grew.

“Nothing so clandestine,” I say. “Just ask Toni about her ideas. Make it seem natural.”

“She’ll be pitching to Greta without realizing it,” Willa says, taking a healthy sip of her wine. She sighs contentedly. “You have amazing taste in wine.”

“Exactly, and thank you. Toni will never admit it, but she’s terrified of letting Greta down.”

Willa nods. “I’m sure it’s difficult being in Greta’s shadow. She’s successful, smart, well-respected, and a leader in her field.”

“I thought you didn’t like Greta.”

“Oh, I respect her professionally, but I wouldn’t want to hang out with her. I can only handle one uptight, perfectionist woman in my life and that’s you.”

“Um, thanks?”

“You’re welcome.” Willa sets down her glass and leans forward. “Greta and Toni don’t have a relationship like ours. And it has nothing to do with us being twins.”

Now it’s my turn to raise an eyebrow at Willa.

“OK, maybe a little. Your idea is great, but don’t expect them to leave here tonight singing ‘Kumbaya’ and communicating with their eyebrows.”

“Eyebrows are our secret code.”

“Damn right it is, and we share it with no one.”

“I don’t think either one wants to give the other credit for what they’ve achieved,” I say.

“From what I’ve heard,” Willa says, “Toni’s been trying to keep up with her big sister since she was old enough to walk, and Greta has some pretty big footsteps to fill.”

“Yeah, I got that impression when we were talking Friday night.”

“You talked Friday night?”

“Fuck off, Willa,” I say, but I’m laughing.

Against all odds, Willa and I have never been competitive. From a young age we carved out our own niches and never felt the urge to one-up each other. We both made good grades, got into University of Texas with full rides, and we are both very good at our jobs. There is very little inequality in our relationship, and where there is a weakness it’s in an area the other is strong. We manage to balance each other perfectly. I suspect Toni and Greta would, too, if they’d just meet halfway.

I confess that I’ve done some research on Toni since Monday when we literally ran into each other, which basically means stalking her on Instagram and TikTok. My palms get sweaty merely thinking about some of the daredevil, harebrained things she’s done, and there is plenty of video proof of each one. How she hasn’t broken every bone in her body is a minor miracle. She has 25,000 followers on Instagram, and a majority of those seem to be fangirls who flirt shamelessly with her in the comments section of her posts. That doesn’t make me jealous. At all.

It’s not that I can blame them. Toni might do things that I think are insane and I would never do to save my life, but she’s not foolhardy about it. Before every stunt she pulls, she goes into detail about the safety precautions she’s taking, the training she’s done, the experience she has, and gives out resources for others to use if they want to train for something similar, before ending with a stern admonishment to absolutely not try this at home without preparation or a professional nearby. Toni’s athleticism and skill are hot, but it is her expertise and intelligence that lit a fire inside me late at night while watching her videos, a fire that lingered during the day while working side by side.

It’s time to put this Toni project to bed so I can move on to what I was hired to do, and to also put some well-needed personal distance between us. My attraction to her is taking up way too much space in my head, and my body.

“I get the impression that Toni has been indulged by her parents,” Willa says to break my wandering thoughts.

I raise my eyebrows.

“Ned likes to talk.”

I am about to ask Willa to elaborate when the doorbell rings.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

TONI

Greta and I might be as different as night and day, but one thing we have in common is punctuality. Dad hammered “On time is ten minutes early” into our brains at a very young age. Which is how we both end up approaching Willa and Audrey’s front door at exactly seven twenty.

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