Identity Crisis Read online

  ‘What accusations? As far as I know Devon Barnet has a shining reputation, and in the past couple of years he only has to do a cameo in a film and that film’s a shoo-in for an Oscar nomination.’

  ‘Exactly,’ Don said. ‘K. Ryde almost single-handedly turned Barnet’s career around. Very few people know this. I only know it because, as I said, the Ryde Agency is the competition, and when K. Ryde agreed to take on Barnet personally, well, the Bachman agency didn’t stand a chance.

  ‘It’s a miracle I was able to get hold of him, actually. I took a chance with an old email address. K. Ryde is almost as elusive as Tess Delaney, but when the rich and famous have a PR disaster they need taken care of discreetly, it’s the Ryde Agency they go to. To this day Barnet won’t say a word about K. Ryde, only that Ryde’s the best, that Ryde’s a genius. There are no photos of them together, no text or email trails, no sightings, and God knows the paparazzi tried.

  ‘Apparently K. Ryde no longer has much involvement in the business. They say he’s retired. Maybe he’s a romance fan. I don’t know. But for Tess Delaney, he’s willing to do what he can.’

  ‘Look, I don’t care if you’ve got to call God out of retirement,’ Garrett said. ‘I don’t want to out Tess, so what can this Ryde fellow do for me?’

  ‘Turns out he has contact with a woman who loves Tess Delaney novels, who happens to live close to the Portland area, and who’s dying to meet Tess Delaney and do whatever Tess needs. Of course I didn’t tell Ryde the details; just told him what we needed, and that we needed the woman yesterday.’

  Garrett sat up on the edge of his chair and wiped a suddenly sweaty palm against his jeans. ‘And?’

  ‘I told Ryde that there would have to be some coaching to make sure the woman could do what Tess needed her for and that this was top, top secret.’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘Well,’ Don said. ‘I talked to the woman last night extensively, and if she can’t be your Tess Delaney, I don’t know who can. If you pull up your email, I’ve sent you her address. You set the time, and she’s yours.’

  With fingers none too steady on the keys, Garrett pulled up his email and, sure enough, there was a message from Don with the address for a Kay Lake. ‘Got it,’ he said. Then he hung up and emailed the woman he hoped would save his bacon.

  Dear Ms. Lake,

  Ms. Delaney has agreed to interview you for the position. Can you meet tomorrow at 2 p.m. at the Pneuma Annex? Suite 3B.

  Best wishes,

  Gary Rose

  Secretary to Tess Delaney

  He sent the message off. It was brief. He’d found that brief was always better when keeping a secret was essential. Even when Tess was quoted in press releases, it was always very brief, very Garbo-ish. It wasn’t the first time he’d used one of the Pneuma Annex offices for official Tess Delaney business and, though Ellis grumbled about it, he always kept suite 3B open for him. And Garrett had always used the name Gary Rose for Tess’s secretary. Somehow it seemed right that Tess should have a male secretary. It was really only a way to give Tess Delaney and Garrett Thorne one more level of separation to protect their anonymity. He’d never had to meet anyone face to face before. He wondered if he should find someone to be Gary Rose this time too, but then that was another complication he didn’t need, and time was quickly running out. Besides, if he didn’t trust Don’s opinion on his future female self, he sure as hell wasn’t going to trust someone he’d hired off the street. After all, he was screening for the perfect Tess Delaney.

  Almost immediately the response came back.

  Dear Mr. Rose,

  Tomorrow at 2.00 is fine for me. I look forward to it.

  All the best,

  Kay Lake

  For a long time Garrett stared at the screen. He hoped this Ryde Agency was as good as Don said and that they truly had found him the right Tess Delaney. He was furious at being put in this position. Right now, he just wanted it all behind him, Golden Kiss nomination or not. He picked up a fountain pen and began to write on the back of a sheet of his waste paper again.

  I’m not comfortable with any of what’s going on. There’s so little time to prepare. I don’t know who Kay Lake is, and that makes me really nervous. It makes me nervous that she’ll know my secret, it makes me nervous that the myth and the reality of Tess Delaney are about to collide in a very dangerous way.

  But when I think about it, I suppose I’ve never really pictured Tess as anything but dangerous. Who could I ever tell that Tess writes my soul in a way I never could do it myself when I was younger and writing testosterone-laced shoot-’em-ups? I would have rather been the King of the Thriller. That was my dream. Then Tess shoved her way into my life, and instead, I’m the Queen of Romance. How the hell did that happen?

  And another thing, this Kay Lake, will I begin to think of her as Tess Delaney? Will she convince me that the figment of my imagination who splintered and became my other half lives and breathes manifest in her body? Jesus, that’s too strange to even think about. More likely she’ll always be an actress to me. Well, I’m hoping after the award ceremony I can retire Tess back to her reclusive life and swear Ms. Lake to secrecy on the life of her first born.

  But it’ll never be the same again, will it? Someone else will know my secret, Tess’s secret, and the way I picture Tess Delaney in my head will forever be tainted by Kay Lake’s version of Tess.

  He laid the pen aside and closed down his computer. Tonight was the night he’d be watching Amy dance the Sleeping Beauty if he’d made the trip to New York. It was over between them. He knew that. He’d known it when he’d gone back to her the last time. He didn’t deal well with endings, and now it felt like he was losing Tess too. He opened the French doors and moved onto the balcony. ‘She doesn’t exist,’ he said out loud. ‘She never has.’ Someone a little less neurotic than he was would have let it go a long time ago. But sometimes it was easier being Tess Delaney than it was being Garrett Thorne.

  He turned and went back into the house, closing the doors behind him. Tess Delaney. He had never assigned her a real physicality. In his mind’s eye, she’d never looked like Amy or any of his other lovers. Strange that he had always been happy with her being physically undefined, but then she wrote the stories, she wasn’t in the stories. Her boundaries were far more permeable than those of the heroines she created or those of the women he’d loved.

  Kendra had spent the better part of the morning trying to find any last-minute information she could about Tess Delaney. There were rumors all right, lots of rumors. They seemed to surface and rise every time Tess released a novel, then fade into the background until there was another new release. But beyond the rumors, it seemed no one really knew anything about Tess Delaney. That made it all the more exciting for her to be the first to have contact with the elusive woman. Oh, she was sure there would be strict protocol, non-disclosure and who knew what other measures set in place to protect the woman’s identity, but that didn’t matter. She wasn’t interested in sharing her experience of Tess Delaney with anyone. That would ruin it, actually. She just wanted to meet the woman, see what she was really like.

  Though she could find nothing of any real value about Tess Delaney. She was pretty sure her knowledge of the woman’s novels would be invaluable. She’d read once that all novels, in some way, were about their authors. She wondered if that meant Tess had lots of passionate lovers or only wished she did. She wondered if that meant Tess was a woman totally out of touch with reality, or if it meant that, just like Kendra, Tess wrote the life she didn’t really believe in, but she loved to fantasize about. Kendra had never fantasized about romance – ever. At least, not until she picked up her first Tess Delaney novel. She was never really sure if she should praise the woman for that or curse her. The jury was still out. One thing was for certain, the woman and her romantic notions had played havoc with Kendra’s sex life. She’d read every novel Tess had ever written, and most of them more than once. She had them all on Kindle as
well as in pristine hardback copies on her shelf at home. A few she even had in tattered, dog-eared paperback as well. She had played some of the most powerful passages over and over in her head, her heart racing with an ache she didn’t want, and yet didn’t want to be without now that she had it. Now that she’d felt it. Problem was, now that she had felt it, she didn’t really know what to do with it. She couldn’t bring herself to talk to Dee about it, though she probably should, since Dee was the one who would know about real romance. And what could she say to her that didn’t sound totally silly and adolescent?

  But Tess Delaney didn’t sound silly or adolescent, and she would soon be set to find out why that was. She pretty much knew the job with Tess was hers. If Bachman had called her in for help, then it was hers. Kendra didn’t get where she was in the PR world without a very finely honed attention to detail, and a scalpel-sharp memory; that, and a deliver or die attitude that always left her clients more than 100 per cent satisfied.

  She hadn’t had a chance to talk to Dee about the meeting because Dee was off in Paris on business, and though she wouldn’t have minded picking Ellis’s brain about his knowledge of Tess Delaney, he was in Spain. And she wouldn’t give Garrett the satisfaction. Besides, she was pretty sure he wouldn’t help her anyway. Clearly he hated her. Well, she didn’t like him much either.

  She flipped through her closet until she found the rose-pink linen suit that looked romantic and yet very chic and professional. It wasn’t exactly sexy, but it definitely wasn’t unsexy either. With a blouse and matching heels just a few shades darker and a string of freshwater pearls, she figured she looked like the perfect assistant to a romance writer. As she added the final pins to the French knot in which she wore her hair, she felt the change she always felt when K. Ryde took control. Though, in all honesty, K. Ryde never made public appearances. This time it was Kay Lake who would take the lead role representing the Ryde Agency, and she was an expert at enthralling an audience, even if that audience were only a world-famous romance writer and her secretary. By the end of the day, Kendra Davis fully intended to be in the employ of the reclusive, mysterious, much whispered about, much admired Tess Delaney. She slipped into her heels, then gave a turn in front of the full-length mirror. God, she’d forgotten how much she loved the rush of adrenaline that always accompanied the challenge offered by a difficult client. She could hardly wait.

  Chapter Five

  Kendra had always loved the Pneuma Complex. It was one of the most beautifully designed, environmentally friendly work spaces she had ever seen. She always felt as though she was walking in botanical gardens when she visited. The Pneuma Building housed Ellison Thorne’s cutting-edge company, Pneuma, Inc., the company Dee now helped him run. The Pneuma Annex provided office space for companies with a similar mind set to Pneuma Inc., as well as space for short-term rentals. The annex’s green, economical design was from the fabulous mind of Wade Crittenden, the creative force behind Pneuma Inc., which meant office space could be offered for less money than similar sites. It also meant those who leased offices in the annex enjoyed the PR boost that came from being in an environmentally friendly building.

  Sites in the Pneuma Annex were coveted and hard to come by, and Kendra was pleased that Tess Delaney had an office there. Though she was pretty sure the woman hardly ever occupied it. She was hoping today would be the exception. Certainly, if the desperation in Don Bachman’s emails and their discussion on the phone were any indication, she’d be meeting the woman in person.

  She did a quick touch-up of her make-up and hair in the restroom of the annex’s sunny atrium before she made her way to Tess Delaney’s office.

  The recessed door of Suite 3B reminded Kendra of a grotto hidden away in the thick foliage of ferns and strange vining plants. A brass plaque to the right of the door read Gary Rose in bold sans serif script. Kendra paused to straighten her jacket one last time, then she hoisted her bag neatly onto one shoulder and gave a crisp rap on the door.

  She waited.

  When there was no answer, she knocked again. And when there was still no answer, she cracked open the door and stuck her head inside. There was a small waiting room decorated in clean lines and Zen colors, fronted by a desk, to the right of which was another door. Kendra’s pulse jumped. Was the woman herself behind that door? And where was the secretary? Certainly for someone who guarded her privacy so fiercely, having the secretary as the vanguard was essential. Where was Mr. Rose?

  She cleared her throat loudly and stood in front of the desk, shifting from foot to foot. It wouldn’t do for Tess Delaney to think she’d been late. She paced the length of the waiting room a couple of times, then made an executive decision and knocked gently on the door by the desk.

  Nothing.

  Had she been stood up? Had Tess Delaney gotten cold feet? Quickly she checked her iPhone to see if she’d had any last-minute messages from Gary Rose or Don Bachman. But there was nothing. She shoved it back into her bag, cleared her throat a little louder this time, and was just getting ready to knock a little harder when the door burst open and she found herself almost nose to nose with Garrett Thorne.

  ‘What the hell are you doing here?’ they both said at the same time.

  Then he grabbed her by the arm, hauled her into the office, and closed the door behind them. ‘I’ll ask you again,’ he said between barely parted lips, his chest rising and falling like he’d just run a fast mile. ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘What do you mean what am I doing here? What are you doing here?’

  ‘Look,’ he said, glancing down at his watch nervously. ‘I’m expecting someone at any minute now, Kendra. I don’t know how the hell you got here or what you want, but you have to leave. Now.’ He tried to push her back out of the door, but she turned on him and glared up at him. ‘There must be a mistake. I have an appointment with Gary Rose, set up by Donald Bachman, from the Bachman Agency, and if this is some kind of a joke, it’s not funny.’

  ‘Hold it, hold it.’ He ran a hand through his hair and the way it fell over one eye would have made her forget about why she was here if the reason had been a little less important. ‘Don sent you?’

  ‘You know Don Bachman,’ she said.

  ‘Of course I know him, he’s my …’ The laser stare they gave each other probably would have been deadly if they hadn’t cancelled each other out. ‘Jesus, Kendra. You’re … You’re not …’

  She held his gaze. ‘I’m here to see Tess Delaney.’ She glanced around the room, but there was no one else there. ‘Where is she?’

  ‘You’re the one Don chose for the job?’ He stepped back and shook his head further mussing his bedroom hair. ‘That can’t be right. That can’t possibly be right. He promised me that the Ryde Agency never failed. He promised me that Ryde had found me just the perfect person for the job. He promised me that –’

  Suddenly she felt like the floor was tilting, and her heart raced. ‘Wait a minute, he promised you? You?’ She stepped back and grabbed at the door knob to steady herself. ‘There has to be some mistake.’

  Her denial was mirrored by his own. ‘Don said the Ryde Agency was the best. Don said Ryde would send me the perfect person, and then Ryde sends you? Is this a joke, is this the man’s idea of a joke?’

  Kendra took a deep breath and stepped forward, using all of her self-control to keep from punching the jerk. ‘I am K. Ryde, you asshole, and you’re a fine one to talk to me about a joke. Now, what the hell is going on and where’s Tess Delaney?’

  It was Garrett’s turn to step forward, once again nearly nose to nose with Kendra, his breath hot on her cheek. ‘You’re looking at her, and if you tell anyone, I swear to you I’ll –’

  ‘No! No fucking way can you be Tess Delaney!’ She pushed past him and paced like a trapped animal in front of his desk. ‘Tess Delaney’s a woman. You’re not.’ He didn’t move, but just stood glaring at her, looking as though his chest were about to explode from his efforts to breath. ‘She writes novels
. You don’t do anything.’ She wasn’t sure but what there might be steam coming out his ears. He was furious. Well, so the hell was she. ‘She’s famous because of her work. You’re famous because of your brother.’

  She turned on him. ‘What was Tess Delaney’s fourth novel?’

  ‘Golden Moments,’ he replied instantly. ‘About Terri Sorenson, a woman with a rare form of cancer, and Del Hendricks, the doctor who cures her.’ Before she could respond, he shot back another question. ‘Who’s Turk Bishop?’

  ‘A washed-up prize fighter who falls in love with his manager’s niece, Andrea Livingston, one of the few successful female boxing managers. From Tess’s seventh book, TKO.’

  ‘Who was terrified of elevators?’ Garrett said, moving back to the nose-to-nose, Mexican stand-off position.

  ‘Delilah Benton from High Flyers. She’d been trapped in one alone for 12 hours as a little girl.’ She shoved her hands onto her hips and glared at him. ‘Deke Arnold’s drink of choice?

  ‘Gin martini made with Bombay Sapphire,’ he said. ‘Sarah Masters’ biggest weakness?’

  ‘Lapsang Souchang tea and chocolate éclairs from Finnegan’s Bakery.’

  ‘Jesus!’ They both spoke at the same time, then turned and paced in opposite directions.

  ‘Why?’ he asked, sounding like she had just murdered his favorite pet.

  ‘What do you mean, why? Because I admire the woman’s work.’ She shook her head and rubbed her eyes. ‘Admired the woman’s work, and I’m the best in my field. I jumped at the chance to work for her … Well, who I thought she was.’

  Their pacing became synchronized.

  ‘You mean to tell me Kendra Davis, the queen of bad temper, reads romance novels?’

  ‘You mean to tell me Garrett Thorne, the epitome of ambition-free living, writes romance novels?’