Chapter 7: The Proposition

“Rachel,” Rory started.

Her sister lifted a perfectly manicured finger to silence her, and like she had in their entire childhood, Rory didn’t try to fight back.

“No,” Rachel said. “I don’t want to hear some sob story of how this isn’t what it seems.”

“Well if you’d give me a chance to explain, you’ll see it was just–”

“A misunderstanding? A case of mistaken identity?” Rachel asked. “Right. You’ve clearly lost weight. You got contacts. You’re trying to look like me, and I get it, I do.”

“I’m not trying to be you!” Rory snapped. “Some drunk idiot thought I was you. Maybe if you actually told the world you had a twin sister instead of pretending like I don’t exist this wouldn’t have happened.”

Rachel crossed her legs and pressed her lips together. “It just makes me sad, Rory. You don’t need to be someone else to meet a man. I mean, maybe with Micah Kyle you do, but that’s my point. You need to set some realistic standards. You’ll meet someone who likes you for who you are. You just need to look in the right area. Maybe Brooklyn?”

It dawned on Rory that after three years, they were slipping right back into their roles. Rachel the narcissist, Rory the lapdog, agreeing without complaint.

Except Rory didn’t have to do that anymore.

“You’re exactly the same,” Rory said.

Rachel cocked her head. “Thank you.”

“I don’t mean that nicely,” Rory said. “I haven’t heard from you in years.”

“Well I lost your number.”

“It’s the same number, Rachel.”

“I sent a Christmas card. The one with me and Jeff at Skywalker Ranch.”

“Yeah, with a generic greeting and your autograph. And we’re Jewish, Rachel!”

“Oh, I’m not Jewish anymore,” Rachel said. “I’ve actually joined this new group, very trendy, Jaden and Kiley invited me, and I’ll tell you, it’s changed me.”

“Please tell me you’re not a Scientologist.”

“Ew, gross,” Rachel said. “I can invite you if you’d like–not the LA one, obviously–but I’m sure I can link you up with a sect here in New York. Not the one I’ve been going to, but you know, I can find you another one.”

“Wait–how long have you been in New York?”

Rachel scratched her forehead. “Three, four months? We just wrapped on my new movie. You’ll love it.”

Rory stared at her sister, struggling to understand how someone who looked so similar to her could feel like such a stranger. “Why do you hate me so much, Rachel?”

“I don’t hate you, Rory, you’re my sister. I’ll always have a place for you in my heart.”

“Just at the very bottom part, underneath everyone else in your life.”

Rache’s smile faded. “I’m doing the best I can.”

The car rolled to a stop outside Rory’s apartment building.

“Why are you really here?” Rory asked.

“I haven’t seen you, what, in two years?”

“Three,” Rory said. “My 21st birthday. When you left me drunk at a bar in Uptown I’d never been to.”

“Well, I figured that pretending to be me is as good an excuse as any to say hello.”

“Bullsh*t,” Rory said. “I know you. You want something.”

Rachel rolled her eyes. “Fine. Your whole little stunt really messed this up for me.”

“Messed up what?”

“Oh don’t play dumb, Rory. The night my Access Hollywood interview airs, where I pour my heart out to the world about leaving Jeff–you give someone an autograph as me and then throw a drink in Micah Kyle’s face. And then you’re spotted walking out of his apartment barefoot.”

“Oh no one knows about that!” Rory said.

“Oh, really?” Rachel asked. “In the short time you’ve been in my car, twenty-six people have texted me this.” She lifted her phone and showed her a photo of Rory in the elevator, barefoot, in Micah’s shirt.

Rory groaned. “Okay, well I can’t help it if some b*tch in the elevator took a photo and posted it on Instagram. And I can’t help it if people think I’m you!”

“But you can help me.”

“How?”

“Go on Good Morning America with me this week,” Rachel said.

“What?” Rory gasped.

“You want me to tell the world I have a twin, here’s your chance. People are going to find out, and I need to get ahead of it. This new movie could be my chance at an Oscar nod, and I won’t get it if I look like a homewrecking wh*re. I just left Jeff, I can’t be having one night stands, especially with playboy Micah Kyle whose longest relationship is with his Amex card. Just come on Good Morning America, tell them you’re in a relationship with Micah Kyle.”

“What? No!”

“Why are you so stubborn?”

“Because what you’re asking me is insane,” Rory said.

“You got yourself in this situation, Rory.”

“Maybe I did–but that doesn’t mean I have to go any deeper. Besides the fact that Micah Kyle represents everything I’m against, no one will believe it. I’m nobody. There’s a reason people thought I was you. You’re a movie star. He’s a billionaire. That makes sense. Me–no, it doesn’t. I just got fired. I’m an overdraft fee away from not being able to pay rent.”

“I’ll pay you.”

“What?”

“I’ll pay you,” Rachel repeated. “Ten thousand dollars.”

Rory’s jaw dropped. She suddenly realized Rachel wouldn’t be suggesting this if Micah didn’t know about it. “Hold on…did you already talk to Micah about this?”

“My publicist is at his apartment right now.” Rachel glanced at her phone. “Apparently his dad’s investors were a little wary about having a 27-year-old take over the company, and your little viral video didn’t help. A little stability is just what he needs. As of five minutes ago, he agreed.”

Rory shook her head. “You just assumed I was going to say yes, didn’t you?”

“I know you need money, Rory. Let me help you.”

Rory glared at her. “I don’t want your help.” She threw open the door and slammed it in her sister’s face.