My Twin Sister’s Extremely Famous and Incredibly Hot Neighbor

I walk beside Dustin as we navigate our way through the museum. I slide my sunglasses back on as we near others. Dustin shields me from people, checking on rooms and walking me through crowds quickly so we can get to an empty area. I love how aware he is of our surroundings and how he talks to me softly when we can’t avoid a crowd.

We find a room with watercolor paintings, and I’m in heaven as we study them. “These are amazing,” I say.

Dustin asks me a few questions about technique and how to get a desired result, and I explain things to him. He seems absorbed in what I’m saying, even though he doesn’t paint. I love that about him. He genuinely wants to know about what I’m interested in.

“What made you think to bring me here?” I ask as we walk past another wall of paintings.

He shrugs. “You had a memory of your father taking you to a museum, but it seemed like that got tainted with what happened between you. I just thought I’d give you another good memory to hold onto.”

Tears spring to my eyes. What a kind thing for him to do. “Thank you,” I manage to say.

He hugs me to his side. He doesn’t make a big deal of my tears. He silently supports me. There’s no way he could know how much that means to me.

As we advance, looking at the art, I can’t control my tears. I try, but they keep coming. The hole in my chest is going to swallow me up. I feel so terrible for lying to Dustin all this time. He’s such a good man, and I’m a horrible person.

We pause before a painting of a waterfall, and it reminds me of being in Jera’s living room with Dustin while I make him stand far back so he can’t see my signature. I let the tears silently fall down my cheeks. With these large sunglasses on, I hope no one can tell.

I should have told him as soon as I started having feelings for him. It’s too late to back things up and do them over. I’ve messed everything up, and I can’t fix it.

He runs his thumb over my side. “Are you okay?” he asks softly.

I’m not okay, but I want so desperately to be. I have to be okay, because this is it. This is all we get. “I’m okay,” I say.

We continue walking, and I get a hold of myself. Today I’m with the man I love. I need to focus on that and not worry about I have to do later.

We move through a room with all black and white paintings. They are stark and garish, and I’m sure the artist intended them to be this way. I stare at one filled with squares.

Dustin looks down at me and squeezes my hand. I don’t need words to know what he means. He saw my tears, and now sees they’re gone. He’s just showing me he cares.

“Can I ask you something?” he asks.

“Sure.”

“Were they happy tears or sad tears?”

I swallow as I try to figure out how to answer. The fact that Dustin cared so much to bring me to the museum made me happy but knowing that what we have won’t last is crushing me. The happy part is being overshadowed by the stark reality. “Sad,” I finally say.

“Want to talk about it?”

“Not yet.” It will be time soon, but not right now. Not in public, and not here. I don’t want another tainted memory.

“That’s okay. We can talk about it when you’re ready.”

He’s blindly putting his trust in me, which makes me feel even worse. I swallow back my guilt and shame. I only have a few hours left with him. Tomorrow I finish what Jera needs, and I’ve already got my flight home booked with Jera’s private jet. This dream will end, but if I tell him right now, it will all end this second.

We walk through the rest of the museum, taking in the paintings, sculptures, and photographs. I lose myself in the art, purposely forgetting what needs to happen later. I allow myself this one last happy moment.

We spend the rest of the afternoon enjoying the art, the fantastic architecture, and the breathtaking views. We don’t have time to get to the gardens, but I vow to come back one day and see them, too. When the museum closes, we climb back into Dustin’s car. He turns to me. “Did you like your surprise?”

“I did. Thank you. It meant a lot to me.” This is an understatement. It meant more than if he’d lassoed the moon for me. I lean over and impulsively press my lips to his. I close my eyes and let myself live in his kiss one last time. As his lips perform a slow dance with mine a single tear escapes and slides down my cheek. I pull back and quickly wipe it away before he can see.

He gives me a warm smile. “I’m glad. I know things will be crazy with me filming Hit the Beach, but I thought maybe we could make this a regular thing. There are a lot of great art museums here.”

I nod, even though I know this won’t happen. “Yeah. Sounds good.”

We drive back to Dustin’s house in silence. I stare out at the streets as he drives. I think about how I’m going to tell him I’m not Jera, and I can’t come up with a great way to do it. I can’t just blurt it out. I’ll need to ease into it somehow. But I’m not sure how to start that conversation. It can wait until after dinner.

We go through Dustin’s gate and pull up the long driveway. Dustin slams on the brakes, and I jerk forward. “What’s wrong?” I ask.

“Sorry.” He points to a bright yellow sports car in the driveway. “My mother is here. It just startled me.”

Panic grows in my chest as Dustin slowly pulls forward. His mother is here? Now? I won’t get to spend the evening alone with Dustin?

I need more time. I can’t tell him who I am with someone else around. I want to be alone with him, so I can plead with him to understand why I lied.

“I don’t know how she got in,” he says as he parks the car. He turns toward me. “Look, my mom is kind of…different. I told her not to come but looks like she ignored me. She’s used to getting what she wants, and right now she wants to meet you.”

Me? Why does she want to meet me? I’m shocked and annoyed, and I don’t know what to do about it. I’m not sure exactly what Dustin is getting at by saying she’s different, but I nod anyway. “Okay.”

We climb out of the car, walk up to the door, and step inside. No one is in sight, but Squint comes running up to me. I pick up Squint and tentatively walk with him through the entryway to the living room area.

“Dustin, is that you?” his mother calls from the kitchen.

“Yes, mother.” He pauses before sliding off his sunglasses. “How did you get in?”

Allison Taylor enters the room, and I swear she’s gliding on small clouds of fluff instead of walking. She’s wearing a massive sun hat and a flowy outfit that looks like it was weaved by an ancient people on some remote island and costs a million dollars. She takes off a large pair of sunglasses and folds them, holding them in her well-manicured hand. “I know your father’s birthday, honey.”

Dustin seems taken aback by that. She approaches him and air kisses his cheeks. “I just had to come meet your new fling.”

Dustin’s face flushes. “Mom. Please.”

She looks at me. “Ah, here she is. The latest tramp.”