Facial Recognition Read online

  Colette removed her glorious hands from my neck and took the seat next to me. Her gorgeous sea-green eyes were all lit up. She was honestly the cutest thing, with her dark pixie-cut hair. Not many women could pull that off, but she had the best cheekbones on the planet and a sweetheart-shaped face. She was the youngest of the three of us at thirty-six. Like me, she had never been married or had children. She was more okay with it than me. At least she wasn’t taking ovulation tests every month. “What if,” she breathed out, “fate is giving you a chance at a full redo?”

  “Ooo. Yes.” Lorelai closed the lid to her laptop. “I can feel the powerful energy of that statement. I mean, what are the odds that he shows up at our spa? And not to be too morbid, but the timing of his daddy’s illness might not be coincidental either. It’s like the stars are aligning and pulling you together.”

  I loved Lorelai and honestly believed in energy healing, yet sometimes she took things too far. “Ladies, I love you both more than my signed Working Class Dog Rick Springfield album—the one he sweated on—but you’re both a little nutty.”

  “I don’t know. I agree with Lorelai. Something just feels right about all of this,” Colette sighed dreamily.

  “His daddy could be dying. There’s nothing right about that,” I said without any bite.

  “No one is saying that, darlin’. However, God works in mysterious ways. And from the sound of it, I would say he’s trying to kill ten birds with one stone.” Lorelai was ever the optimist.

  I waved them off. The only stone God needed to send was the one to knock me upside the head. I needed to forget about Brooks. “Let’s change the subject, shall we? How many tickets have we sold?” I hated talking money or details at a time like this, but people were counting on me. And Tom and Daddy, bless their souls, had already donated a lot of their own money to the Class of 1999 Alumni Association, a.k.a. my pet project. Tom would want me to go through with this. I had to admit, I needed the distraction too. The last couple of days had been like an emotional hurricane.

  Lorelai opened her laptop and pulled up the spreadsheet where we were keeping track of all the tickets sold and the expenses. She scrolled down. “To date, we have sold fifty-six single tickets and one hundred and two double tickets, including yours.” She wagged her brows. “The question is, Who will your double be?”

  I rubbed my temples. “I’m working on it. Do either of you have any other fresh bodies?”

  Both ladies thought.

  “My pastor is single,” Colette chirped.

  “Hmm. How does he feel about dirty dancing?” I teased, sort of. I liked to get up close and personal when I danced.

  Colette giggled. “Well . . . he did give a sermon last week on how evil can be disguised as anything, including music. He probably wouldn’t appreciate the playlist we gave the DJ. But he’s pretty cute. He even has dimples.” She was a sucker for those.

  “Maybe you should ask him out, then.”

  “I can’t take that kind of pressure. I would probably use a dozen four-letter words out of nervousness before we even made it to dinner. By the time dessert arrived, he would probably know every sin I’d ever committed. And the list is long, mind you.” She winked. “Then I would have to find a new church, and I’m too lazy for that.”

  “So, no pastors.” I smiled. “Lorelai? Anyone?”

  Lorelai was scrolling through her contacts. “Let’s see. Have I mentioned Dane Barret yet?” she hesitantly asked.

  I had to stop and think. The list was getting ridiculously long. “I don’t think so.”

  Lorelai nibbled on her bottom lip and contemplated. “He was one of William’s old buddies,” she whispered. “He’s a bit rough around the edges. He was in the military for a long time, but he’s been back for a while now. He’s a professional cowboy.”

  “Intriguing.”

  “He’s ruggedly handsome, and last time I saw him he was still in great shape. If memory serves me correctly, he has normal feet,” she giggled. She never showed me pictures; I wanted to go in completely blind. I figured that’s how the voice worked—by surprise.

  “Perfect. How does he feel about blind dates?”

  “After I show him a picture of you, I would say he’ll be a big fan.”

  I ran my fingers through my uninhibited hair. “Don’t snap any of me today—I’m a hot mess. The bags under my eyes need their own zip code.” Even though I never wanted to see a picture of the men beforehand, I had no qualms letting them see me—just in case I repulsed them. This way they could back out beforehand.

  “At least it’s prime real estate,” Colette quipped.

  “Aww. Now if I can find someone who would like to move in permanently,” I lamented.

  “You will,” Lorelai reassured me.

  I nodded, somewhat hopeful. “Okay, now back to business. I talked to the graphic artist, and he should have some designs for us to choose from for the commemorative T-shirts that we’ll have available for purchase. And I’ve narrowed it down to two photographers.” I pulled out my phone to show them each photographer’s website. “What do you think—”

  “Hello, Grace,” a debonair voice said from behind me.

  I fumbled my phone before dropping it on the table. What was he doing here? I thought he was at a TED Talk.

  Lorelai’s and Colette’s eyes lasered in on Brooks. Meanwhile I froze in place, not daring to turn around. Then I remembered I’d had poppy seed dressing on my salad. Surely Lorelai or Colette would have told me if I had a poppy seed or two stuck in my teeth. I wanted to flash Lorelai a smile to check for me, but she was mesmerized with the man who stood behind me. I couldn’t exactly blame her; he was beautiful to look at.

  I had almost gained enough courage to turn around when I heard a voice from the past that I could have done without. I began to silently pray she had gotten ugly or lost all her teeth. I hated myself for being like that. Momma used to say envy was 90 percent of what was wrong with this world. Specifically, she used to tell me that being jealous of Morgan was like a finger being jealous of a thumb. “The hand needs both to function properly,” she would say. Then she would smooth my brow and whisper, “The world needs Gracies and Morgans.”

  I would reply, “But does Brooks need us both?”

  Momma would smile and respond, “Yes, but I hope for his sake and yours, he’ll see why he needs you more.” That had always been my wish, although it was never coming true.

  “Gracie Cartwright, it has been a long time.” Her smooth-as-silk voice wafted in the air, making me want to barf up my dinner.

  I had no choice but to turn around, making sure not to smile in case of a rogue poppy seed. “Morgan. Brooks. How unexpected,” was all I could think of to say while I gawked at the pair. Brooks was still dressed in a suit and tie. Did he ever wear casual clothing? And Morgan, well let’s just say she hadn’t gotten ugly and she still had all her gleaming, straight, white teeth. On top of that, she matched Brooks perfectly in her boardroom suit. Apparently, her love for the pencil skirt still lived on. And her voluptuous chest was accented by her tailored jacket. So maybe, just maybe, I saw a strand of gray in her mocha-colored hair. And, if I was being snarky, it didn’t shine like it used to. Yet it didn’t matter, because she was still beautiful. She and Brooks looked like the perfect power couple. Oddly, though, they weren’t touching. If Brooks were my boyfriend, you better believe I would have my hands on him 24-7.

  Morgan eyed me with the same interest as I had given her. I couldn’t tell by her narrowed blue eyes if she found me to be a joke in my skinny jeans and I Would Rather Be Watching General Hospital sweatshirt, or if she loathed me. Maybe some of both, by the way her lips pursed together like she had just sucked on a lemon.

  Brooks cleared his throat. “We came to check on my mother, and I thought she might like a cup of coffee.”

  “How nice.” I turned toward my friends, who, by the looks of pure pleasure on their faces, were apparently enthralled with this entire scenario. “These a
re my best friends and business partners, Colette and Lorelai.”

  Brooks was surprisingly well mannered and stepped forward to shake their hands. “Yes, I remember you both from the spa.”

  Morgan’s microbladed eyebrows shot up. “Serenity Spa?”

  “Yes.” A smile a mile-wide spread across my face. I’d forgotten all about being embarrassed about possible poppy seeds. “We are the lucky owners.”

  “Well, you should fire your aesthetician, Jane. I’d heard such positive things about your place, but that woman sounded absolutely vile.”

  Brooks cleared his throat. “Morgan, that’s probably an exaggeration.”

  I wondered why he hadn’t mentioned to Morgan that I was a co-owner or the aesthetician in question. “Oh, don’t worry, Jane is history.”

  Lorelai and Colette giggled.

  Morgan gave them a scathing look that made me flinch. Holy crow.

  Colette didn’t bat an eye. “You know, Brooks, we would love to make it up to you. Your next visit is on us, and this time we’ll pair you with our best aesthetician . . . Gracie.” Oh, she was wickedly good.

  Morgan about choked on her tongue.

  Brooks, on the other hand, gave me a half smile. “Perhaps I’ll take you up on it.”

  “You never know,” Lorelai sang. “You may decide to change your review afterward.”

  “Possibly,” he responded a little too cockily.

  Morgan grabbed his hand and held it like a vise. “I don’t know if you’ll have the time, Brooks. Our schedule is packed the next several weeks.” She directed her attention to me specifically. “Maybe you heard—I’m the newly appointed vice president of my bank.”

  Why would I have heard that?

  “And as such,” she continued, “I have to go to a lot of community events. I’m the face of the bank.”

  “You should make sure to put that in your bio for the reunion,” Colette backhandedly mocked her.

  “Reunion?” Morgan’s face pinched together.

  “Our twenty-year high school reunion is coming up. We’re the planning committee,” I informed her.

  Lorelai held up the laptop. “It looks like y’all haven’t responded. You should get tickets now before they go up in price next week. Should I put you down as a double or single ticket?” she asked with a hint of evil.

  Brooks and Morgan both looked appalled at the thought, with crinkled brows and sneers.

  “I didn’t get an invitation.” Morgan sounded offended, though she stood taller, which was saying something, as she was already straight as a pin. “It’s probably because I traveled so much with my last position. I’ve always been a highly sought-after asset. People just can’t do without me.”

  I refrained from gagging on her self-importance. I might have accidentally left her off the mailing list. I mean, I didn’t have a current address, and I thought sending one to her parents’ home was a waste of a stamp. At least that was the story I was sticking to.

  Her next statement proved me right. “However, reunions,” Morgan scoffed, “are for people who peaked in their pasts. We,” she yanked Brooks right up next to her, “are all about our futures.”

  I glared at Brooks, who looked a tad embarrassed at his girlfriend’s over-the-top behavior, and then at Morgan, feeling every bit of the slight she’d tossed at me. “We will have to agree to disagree. I feel a person who forgets the past somehow never makes peace with their future.” I swiveled back around. “Please mark them off our list,” I said to Lorelai. To Brooks and Morgan I mumbled, “We’ll make sure you don’t get any correspondence from us again.”

  And don’t worry, Brooks, I’m marking you off my list too.

  “By the way, you have a poppy seed between your front teeth,” Morgan threw in with such an air of haughtiness she was probably floating on cloud nine.

  Of course I did. I wanted to respond that it was better than having a stick shoved between my buttocks like the big one she was sporting. Instead I went with, “Oh, thank you, Morgan. What would I ever do without you?”

  Chapter Nine

  “I hope you don’t mind that I stayed,” Carly whispered as we watched over her father late into the night. We had each taken a side and carefully held his hands, as he was fitted with so many tubes and IVs. The semidark room glowed with all the machinery used to keep Tom alive.

  “Of course not. He’s your daddy.”

  She tucked some of her long-bobbed, ash-colored hair back behind her ear. For being twins, she and Brooks didn’t have similar coloring. Carly was fairer, with eyes that were much lighter, and they were softer than Brooks’s.

  “You’ve been more of a daughter to him. Whenever we did talk, he always mentioned how good you’ve been to him. I was both jealous and relieved.”

  “I know it’s complicated. I’m glad you’re here, though. I’ve missed you.”

  Her eyes misted over. “I’ve been the worst sort of friend. I went back on every promise I ever made, including having you be the maid of honor at my wedding. I’m so sorry, Gracie. Everything just got so messed up.”

  As hurt as I had been about that, it all didn’t seem to matter in this moment that teetered on life and death. “Please don’t apologize. You’re here now, and that’s what matters.”

  “Does it?” she begged to know.

  “I think so.”

  “Brooks mentioned being able to stay at the house.” She swallowed. “I think I would like that. I want my boys to know their granddad’s house. My house.”

  “Tom would love that. He just had the pool cleaned, so it’s ready to be used.” I usually did laps in the morning come late spring and into the summer. There was a gate between our two yards that allowed me access.

  “The pool.” She grinned. “We spent a lot of good times there, didn’t we?”

  I smiled, thinking about all the ogling I had done of Brooks in his Hawaiian-style swim trunks. Then I reminded myself I wasn’t going to think about him or Morgan anymore. “Yours was the party house.” Almost every cheer team party we’d had was at their place. We had all loved to admire Brooks. And he’d made sure to come out and strut his stuff, insisting it was all in the name of safety. He had been our designated lifeguard. Man, how I had contemplated faking drowning. I’d wanted some mouth to mouth from him. Ugh, there I went thinking about him again.

  “You were always the best party planner, though. Still are. The reunion sounds amazing, except I want to lose fifteen pounds before the big day.”

  “You look great.”

  She looked down at her tall body. She was thick boned like her momma, but she wore it well and confidently. It was a Hamilton trait.

  “Not as good as you. Please tell me your secret. You haven’t changed at all over the years.”

  “It’s the dim lighting.”

  “I don’t think so. You have Brooks in a tizzy, I’ll tell you that.”

  I shifted in my seat. “I irritate him, is all.”

  “Right,” she impishly gleamed. “I suppose that’s why Morgan was reprimanding him earlier in the waiting room.”

  “She was? Why?”

  “Something about how Brooks should have mentioned that you owned the spa, and she would have appreciated it if he would have backed her up more about not attending the reunion.”

  “Hmm. Well, they seem like a solid couple, so I wouldn’t read too much into it.”

  “Ugh. Please don’t say that. I’d hoped after twenty years Morgan would have mellowed, but she’s just as controlling as ever. I’ve never understood why Brooks, who never lets anyone boss him around, has let Morgan call the shots with him.”

  “She is beautiful, and men seem to love the chase.”

  “Huh. I never saw her as very pretty. She has this coldness to her that makes her unattractive.”

  I could see what she was saying, but there was no question that Morgan was gorgeous.

  “I only hope my brother realizes that before she leads him to another dead end and breaks his heart
again.”

  I shrugged, pretending not to care whether he got his heart broken by Morgan. Yet, my heart broke a little knowing she had the power to wreck his. A power I’d never had nor would ever possess. Not that I wanted to hurt him. I had only wanted to love him and make him happy. Things, apparently, he didn’t value. Which was why I really needed to stop thinking about him.

  “Tell me how life in California is.” I needed to change the subject.

  She gave me a small smile. “Really good,” she said almost guiltily. “Dillon’s a portfolio manager and the best dad and husband around. I think our boys love him more than they love me, which is okay because sometimes at the end of the day, I’m ready to sell them on Etsy.”

  I chuckled. “Their pictures on Facebook are darling, so you could probably charge a decent amount,” I teased.

  She broke into fits of laughter. “Oh, Gracie, I’ve missed your sense of humor and your friendship. Momma and I were talking earlier about how we’ve all missed you.”

  “Not Brooks, which is fine,” I made sure to add in.

  She tilted her head. “That’s not true. Honestly, when we were growing up, I was kind of jealous of the bond you two had. In some ways, I think you were more connected to my twin than I ever was.”

  I shook my head to disagree.

  “No, it’s true. I think Brooks felt safe to be who he really wanted to be around you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Even though Brooks and I were technically minutes apart, he always took on the role of the oldest sibling. Type A all the way. He was all about reaching his goals. I mean, the only reason he ran for class president was because it would look good on his college applications. I think he would have preferred to skip high school altogether, if he could have. But you brought out this side in him no one else seemed to. And I know he was sneaking into your room at night.”