Famous by Association
Famous by Association
Leddy Harper
Copyright © 2020 by Leddy Harper
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Lisa…
I’m so glad Amazon introduced us!
Contents
Prologue
1. Tasha
2. Jacoby
3. Tasha
4. Jacoby
5. Tasha
6. Jacoby
7. Tasha
8. Jacoby
9. Tasha
10. Jacoby
11. Tasha
12. Jacoby
13. Tasha
14. Jacoby
15. Tasha
16. Jacoby
17. Tasha
18. Jacoby
19. Tasha
20. Jacoby
21. Tasha
22. Jacoby
Epilogue
Hey You!!
About the Author
Also by Leddy Harper
Prologue
Tasha
Dave, my roommate, jumped over the back of the well-worn couch and plopped onto the brown pleather cushion next to me. His goofy grin made me laugh—it was like he had radar any time I turned on the PlayStation.
“Ready to get your butt handed to you?” He reached for the pizza box on the ottoman in front of us. Apparently, he also had a keen sense of smell and could detect the slightest hint of greasy cheese, even in his sleep.
“You’re delusional. We both know you suck at first-person action.”
Dave was great at old-school games. Give him Mario or Sonic, and he’d bury just about anyone. Make him play against a live person, and he reverted to his high school years—unable to walk and chew gum at the same time. Guess some people never outgrew their awkwardness.
“Psh.” Particles of chewed pizza flew past his lips, landing on his wrinkled T-shirt. “You’re going to be sucking these nads in about five minutes.”
Thankfully, a knock resounded from the front door, preventing him from saying anything else that would possibly give me nightmares for months. I shook my head and tried to feign disgust. “You’re foul. Now go see who’s here.”
He stopped chewing like a cow and stared at me with wide, panicked eyes. Truly, we made the worst roommates. Neither one of us liked surprise guests or answering the door. Maybe we were just hermits and enjoyed our own secluded environment. But there was a greater chance that we had both been tormented by the Tiffany Lewises of the world for far too many years, which made the thought of being around people a tad scary. Being called “Tosh the Sasquatch” wasn’t easy to get over.
The knock resounded again, though this time, louder. It made us both jump, which would’ve been hilarious if it had happened to anyone else. But two video game nerds? Yeah, anyone laughing at us would’ve been an insult.
Dave grabbed my arm and yanked me off the couch, mouthing, “Go.”
“No!” I whisper-shouted. “You go!”
“It’s probably Publisher’s Clearing House. They’re here to give you a check.”
I slapped his hands to keep him from pushing me toward the door. “Yeah, right. It’s more than likely a murderer.”
“Even more reason for you to answer it.”
I looked over at Dave, who stared back at me while casually shrugging. I gave in, knowing this wouldn’t end until I conceded, and tiptoed toward the door. I hated surprise guests. Seriously, people should be more considerate and call first. Even though it was unlikely, I was hopeful that it was, indeed, Publisher’s Clearing House—heck, I’d even take UPS. But instead, we were both already convinced it was a serial killer waiting on the other side. I swear, I could even hear the eerie piano music in the background.
This kind of reaction wasn’t normal, but it was my normal.
I slid back the peephole cover, trying to get a look at the scary madman with a bloody knife on the other side of what now seemed like a very thin door. Just because he knocked didn’t mean anything; going to the front door was much less conspicuous than crouching behind bushes and peeking into windows. However, it seemed I wasn’t as sly as our guest. When I leaned forward to focus through the tiny lens, I smacked the edge of my glasses on the door, knocking them off my face and onto the floor.
“Oh, for the mother of…” The knocking persisted, sounding more impatient each time. My earlier terror was quickly replaced with annoyance. “Holy moly, hang on!” I scrambled to pick up my glasses and shoved them onto my face.
Dave came out of nowhere and opened the door, which would’ve been helpful had he not hidden behind it, leaving me out in the open to fend for myself. Scrunching my nose and straining to see, I straightened my spine, hoping to look like a badass with balls of steel instead of a coward with a sack of tinfoil.
“Um…Tasha Lewis?”
My eyes focused on a guy who seemed to have stepped directly out of GQ. I regarded him from head to toe, taking in his freshly cut black hair. It was slicked back with silver peeking out at his temples, resembling a third cousin of George Clooney twice removed. His entire appearance was immaculately groomed from his tailored navy suit down to his brown dress shoes, which were polished to perfection. And if that wasn’t enough, the leather briefcase hanging by his side completed the “I’m rich enough to buy a tiny island” look.
“Who is it?” Dave whispered from behind the door, reminding me of his presence. When I didn’t respond—to either person—he tried even harder to get my attention. “Psst. Tosh. Who is it?”
I slowly turned my head to the left and mouthed, “Oh my God,” to Dave. When his eyes widened and his mouth dropped open, I said, “It’s Bill Gates.”
“No way!” He stepped to the side and opened the door more, practically pushing me out of the way. When he noticed Mr. CEO on our front step, his excitement fell faster than a lead weight from the Empire State Building. “You’re such a liar, Tasha. I hate you.”
I couldn’t stop laughing and nearly doubled over from the hysterics that erupted within me. “Seriously, Dave, why would Bill Gates be at our front door?”
“To see me? Heck if I know. Maybe he wanted to offer me my dream job. Why is this stiff here?” He held out his hand toward the man I still hadn’t spoken to.
“Umm…I’m here to speak with Tasha Lewis.” Stiff was definitely the appropriate word.
“That’s me. I’m Tosh, uh…Tasha. Lewis.” I closed my eyes and shook my head. “I’m Tasha Lewis.” I’d somehow gone brain dead and couldn’t figure out how to form a full sentence. Toying with the hair piled on top of my head, I immediately felt underdressed, which was absurd since I’d answered my door in my own apartment. “What can I do for you…um…?”
“Ty Sandoval,” he said and stuck out his hand, which I didn’t take. “I work for your sister. You look different than I anticipated.” He tapped his bottom lip with his index finger while gazing intently at me. “It’ll have to do.”
What in the name of blazing saddles did he mean by it’ll have to do? I glanced down at my loosely fitted sweatpants and bare feet. When I looked up, I caught him examining my ripped AC/DC shirt with its elegant pizza stain on my left boob. His brow creased slightly and his gaze narrowed, telling me two things: one, he was familiar with Botox, and two, something about me left him perplexed. However, it did nothing to hide the disgust curling his top lip.
“May I come in?” He flicked his attention from my eyes to over my shoulder and then back to me again, as if he couldn’t understand why I hadn’t invited him into
my humble abode yet.
“Oh, where are our manners?” Dave stepped in front of me and held the door with one hand. Too bad he was an inch shorter than my five-foot-ten height and did nothing to block my sight of Ty. “Absolutely…not. We have no idea who you really are. For all we know, you’ll gag us and steal our valuables.”
Ty quirked one brow, humor dancing at the corners of his mouth. Although, he didn’t exactly seem to find any of this funny. “I highly doubt there’s anything in there worthy of stealing. Plus, I told you, I’m Ty Sandoval. I work for Tasha’s sister, Tiffany; I’m actually her assistant.”
“Wait…” Dave turned to the side and pressed his back against the opened door to look at me without facing away from Ty. Instead of commenting on the rather rude remark of us not possessing anything of value, he asked, “Is he talking about Tiff?”
“She’s the only sister I have, Dave,” I deadpanned.
“The hot to your not?”
“That’s totally offensive.”
“The Tiffany Lewis, who back in high school used to—”
“Tell everyone that you’d put on her clothes and dance around my room to Madonna’s Like a Virgin?” I crossed my arms and flashed my roommate a smug grin. “Yeah, that’d be the same sister he’s talking about. My twin sister. The only one I have. I’m not quite sure how much more clarification you need.”
“Listen, guys…” Ty was either bored or annoyed. Or both. Possibly even a bit disgruntled if his full inhale and rushed exhale were any indication. “As entertaining as this is”—total sarcasm—“I really do need to speak to Miss Lewis about her sister.”
“Oh, yeah…sure. Please, come in.” I took a step back and yanked Dave away from the door, giving Ty enough room to walk inside. “Don’t mind my roommate. I found him in the park and felt bad for him; I think he lost his owners, so I let him stay here. Little guy refuses to leave.” I scrunched my nose and ruffled Dave’s hair.
He shoved my hand away and closed the door. Standing behind Ty, he gyrated his hips and mouthed, “The hot twin,” adding a pelvic thrust to each word. Ty must’ve sensed something, because he turned around, catching Dave’s last air hump, in which Dave began to act cool and walk it off.
At least it made me laugh.
“Don’t mind me,” Dave called over his shoulder on the way to the couch. “I’ll just take this pizza up to my room and give you two some alone time.” He took the box upstairs, and a moment later, the sound of his door closing traveled down to the living room.
“Sorry about that. He can be a little…” I started, trying to fight off the grin forming on my lips. I could just imagine Dave sitting at the top of the steps with the pizza box in his lap, listening to this entire conversation.
Ty waved me off and moved toward the sofa. “May I sit?”
Shrugging, I followed suit. I didn’t miss the way he brushed the cushion with his hand before sitting, or the invisible dirt he wiped from the thighs of his pants. The least he could do was attempt to hide his blatant disgust over the environment of my place. After all, it wasn’t like I had invited him here or anything.
“So, as I was saying, I’m here to discuss Tiffany. There’s been a bit of…an issue. She’s a little under the weather, and she has asked that I come speak to you on her behalf.”
“Oh…” I rolled my eyes. “You mean, Queen Bee is taking a sick day?”
“Well, not quite.” He shifted in his seat, seeming to be slightly uncomfortable. “You see, the situation is a little more…complicated than that. But she wanted me to make you aware of the…situation.”
Concern immediately washed over me. “Oh my God, just spit it out already. Stop with the unnecessary pauses and tell me what you came here for. What’s the issue? What situation is she in? And for the love of Lara Croft, how complicated is it?”
Tiff always had a way of making me feel insignificant. When we were five, she made me wait two minutes to blow out my birthday candles, which resulted in a layer of wax on my cake. Needless to say, no one wanted any of my cake. She started her period in seventh grade, and when I hadn’t gotten mine, she told Lindsey Pierce and the rest of their group that I was a hermaphrodite. Her taunting knew no bounds, either. Thanks to my sister, the nickname, Tosh the Sasquatch, had followed me all through school, which was ridiculous considering we were the same height.
Tiff was the biggest reason I’d always preferred male friends. I couldn’t stand the mindless followers from the cheerleading squad whose lips had been permanently suction cupped to my sister’s rump throughout high school. For four years, they’d practically lived at our house, harassing me daily. Regardless of what crowd she’d surrounded herself with, Tiff was always the leader of my torment, which was why I always hung out with guys—less drama, less headache. But even that had its downside. I was always just “one of the boys,” while my identical twin sister—yes, the same exact DNA—was seen as the “hot twin.”
That unspoken bond people talk about between identical twins? Yeah, we never had that. We were never close, and aside from us both being freakishly tall with long blond hair and blue-grey eyes, we couldn’t have been more polar opposites if we tried.
But bond or not, I never wished anything bad to happen to her.
“Is she okay?” My voice shook as I questioned the condition of my sister.
Without answering me, Ty lifted his briefcase from the floor and opened it on the ottoman. Pulling out an iPad, he held it against his chest and continued. “You know that she was vacationing in Mexico with her fiancé, Adam…right?”
I nodded. I don’t know why I nodded, because no, I had not been aware of any vacation. Especially not one to Mexico. The only reason I knew anything about Adam was because my mom hadn’t been able to talk about anything other than the uber-famous athlete who was marrying my sister. It was rather sickening if I were being honest.
“Oh, good.” He sighed, as if my knowledge of Tiff’s romantic getaway offered him some relief. “I hate to be the one to tell you this, but there were some complications, so she has to stay for a little while longer.”
“You’re either going to have to slow down or speed things up. Where is she?”
“She’s currently in a hospital…in Mexico.”
“What?” I shrieked and clutched my chest. “Why? What complications did she have? And from what?”
“Well, I’m going to FaceTime her so she can discuss her condition with you and explain why I’m here. But first, you need to prepare yourself. Her appearance is…a little disheartening.” His pauses were about to get him punched in the throat. “Don’t freak out, as it’ll upset her, and right now, she needs to remain calm. Got it?”
“Yeah, yeah.” I physically nodded and mentally shook my head.
The iPad began to ring as he handed it to me. A dark picture consumed the screen as the tiny thumbnail of my eager expression appeared in the upper right corner. At first, the image was pixelated and blurry, and then it slowly began to clear up. My stomach twisted into knots as Tiff’s face—what used to look just like mine—came into focus.
There she was, sitting in a bed, almost unrecognizable. Layers of white gauze circled her face from the top of her head down to her chin, covering both ears. Errant strands of her platinum-blond hair poked out randomly from beneath the bandage wrap. My mouth dropped as I took in the sight of her porcelain skin, adorned with deep-purple bruises under her eyes that almost appeared to be sewn shut with stitches. There was not an inch of her face that wasn’t swollen, all the way down to her lips, which were about four times their normal size.
“Oh…oh my God, Tiff. What happened to you?” My breath hitched as anxiety immediately consumed me. Suddenly, questions bombarded me, filling my brain faster than I could ask them. Concern for my twin, coupled with the need to protect her, overwhelmed me. “Are you okay? Were you robbed? Did they beat you? Were you in an accident?”
“Tasha, I need you to listen to me.” Tiffany spoke like she had cotton stu
ffed in her mouth, the sh sound added to every word, regardless if it even contained an S.
“Holy shit, Tiffany! Did the Mexican drug people kidnap you? What are they called…cartel? How much money do you need for ransom? I hope it’s not a lot because I don’t have much. Oh my God. Did they catch whoever did this?”
Ty snatched the iPad from my hands and turned it toward his chest. In a stern whisper, he lectured, “I told you to refrain from freaking out. You need to remain calm. If you can’t, then I’ll have no choice but to disconnect the call.”
“That was before I saw her.” My voice may have been low, but my panic wasn’t so quiet. Different possibilities of what could’ve happened to her continued to race through my mind, but nothing I’d come up with made sense. “What the hell happened to her?”
“Wait…” He held up his hand. “She did tell you she went to Mexico for a little…work. Right?”
“Work? What kind of work?” Then the room suddenly got brighter as the light bulb over my head came on. “Ahh…like plastic surgery?” When he nodded, I couldn’t contain the barking laughter that erupted. “For real?”
I could not believe anyone, let alone someone so closely related to me, would purposefully do that to herself. I mean, she looked like a semi-truck had run her over, and then a forklift had repeatedly stabbed her.
“Yes,” he hissed through clenched teeth. “Now, are you going to calm down so your sister can tell you why I’m here? Or will I have to disconnect the call and move on to plan B?”
I choked down the humor and cleared my throat. Nodding, I held out my hands, palms up, asking for the iPad. Now that I knew she’d inflicted this upon herself, my worry had all but faded. She obviously needed something from me, and I planned to enjoy this moment a little while longer. It wasn’t every day that I got to be the hot twin, and I wasn’t about to let him steal this from me.