Double Take. Leigh Riker

need a few days out of the limelight,” Emerald said over her shoulder. “When I get back, we’ll see about a reward for your service.”

      “Miss Greer. Emerald…”

      But she was gone in a click of heels on marble tile.

      HOURS LATER, Cameron gazed at herself in the mirror of Emerald’s dressing room at the Waldorf-Astoria. Her heart beat a rapid tattoo beneath the low-cut neckline of the bronze satin gown.

      “Well?” she said, taking care to hide her bandaged fingers in the skirt.

      “Perfect.” Wearing Cameron’s jeans and sweater, Emerald stood behind her.

      Cameron compared their images. Briefly, another wave of uncertainty about tonight darkened her eyes, but she had to admit, she didn’t look half-bad. She and Emerald did resemble each other—in reverse now. Their shoulders were on a level, their heads, too, and anyone would be hard-pressed to notice the few pounds’ difference between them. When Cameron put on a coat, it would be impossible to discern unless that person knew them well.

      Which made her ask the question.

      “What about Ron?”

      “I didn’t tell him. It won’t matter. He’s being paid—and he will be paid—to drive me to this hotel then home again. I have nothing more to say to him tonight.”

      Because of their earlier quarrel, that left Cameron to explain the ruse to Ron later. Emerald didn’t seem to care.

      So, big deal. She could play someone else—again—for one night. She’d had plenty of practice, and she had to admit, the dress was flattering. The bronze satin nipped in Cameron’s waist and emphasized her smaller breasts. No jeans tonight. This might be her one chance to shine.

      If she succeeded, Emerald would be grateful.

      As a reward, The Unlimited Chef might benefit from her gratitude.

      Cameron would be that much closer to making it on her own. Being normal.

      Taking a deep breath, she willed herself to relax.

      What was the harm? Even in the back seat of a darkened limousine, she would be more a part of things, out in the open and free, than in all her years in Witness Protection. Maybe it would be fun to lead a harmless press, rather than a killer, off the track.