“Good for you!” Bill entered the dining room, grinning, but her father was all business.
“Show me what you were saying before, about my grip.” Her father flipped the sword around so that the point faced the floor, then wrapped his fingers around the hilt, swinging it like a golf club. “You said it was my elbow, right? Not tucked in enough?”
“Not exactly, let me show you.” Bill focused on his task, and Barbara moaned.
“Please, guys, anything but golf.”
“There is nothing but golf,” Bill said, smiling, then turned to Ellen. “By the way, I have those papers for you to sign, for Will’s trust. When he’s of age, he can decide how much he wants to set aside for Charbonneau House.”
“Great, thanks.” Ellen smiled, and in the next second she felt an arm encircle her waist and tug her into the kitchen. Before she knew it, Marcelo had taken her into his arms, hugged her gently, and given her one of his best kisses.
“This is a wonderful party,” he purred into her ear. “Very romantic.”
“It’s the Snickers bars. Snickers equal romance.” Ellen put her arms around him, stretching out her hands over his shoulder. Her engagement ring sparkled prettily in the sunlight, and she never would have guessed that green would make such a nice backdrop for a diamond. It gave her a new appreciation for photosynthesis.
“You’re doing it again, aren’t you?” Marcelo asked, chuckling.
“Doing what?”
“Looking at your ring.”
“Just kiss me,” Ellen said with a smile, but suddenly Will burst into the kitchen and stopped himself before he ran into them.
“Marcelo,” he said, looking up, “are you gonna kiss Mommy?”
“If you say it’s okay, Will.”
“Do it! She likes it!” Will hugged Marcelo around the leg, then ran out of the kitchen, and Ellen smiled.
“Good move, asking permission.”
“I know who the boss is.” Marcelo kissed her softly and sweetly, then whispered, “Eu te amo.”
And for that, Ellen didn’t need a translation.
Acknowledgments
I have always been a fan of “write what you know,” and this novel arises from a new sideline of mine: newspaper columnist. More than a year ago, I began writing a weekly column for The Philadelphia Inquirer called “Chick Wit.” (Check it out online at my website, www.scottoline.com.) To stay on point, this novel grew naturally from my observations of the rewards and stresses of a reporter’s life—especially in bad economic times—but it’s important to head this disclaimer: Look Again is fiction.
I made it up, every word.
The newsroom herein is not The Philadelphia Inquirer’s, and the fictional owners of the newspaper, as well as its reporters, staff, and editors, are not anyone at the Inquirer. And though, like every newspaper, the Inquirer has suffered in this economy, the paper is nevertheless thriving due to the talent, hard work, and business savvy of its amazing publisher, Brian Tierney, with the help of Pulitzer Prize winner and great guy Bill Marimow and marketing whiz Ed Mahlman, as well as my friend and editor Sandy Clark, who has been a warm and loving guide in new terrain. I owe much to her, so thanks, Sandy.
I needed to do lots of research for Look Again, and I owe a huge debt to the following experts. (Any and all mistakes are mine.) A big hug to brilliant Cheryl Young, Esq., a divorce and family lawyer who is an expert on the intricacies of the law, as well as having an understanding of its very human implications. Big thanks, as always, to Glenn Gilman, Esq., and detective extraordinaire Art Mee. Thank you very much to Dr. John O’Hara of Paoli Hospital, as well as Brad Zerr, who put me in touch with Dr. Glenn Kaplan, head of Pediatric Surgery at Paoli Hospital in Paoli, Pennsylvania, and Tina Saurian, nurse manager of the Maternity Unit. Thanks, too, to Dr. Paul Anisman, chief of Pediatric Cardiology at Nemours/Alfred I. Dupont Hospital for Children in Wilmington, Delaware. Dr. Anisman showed me around and answered all my dumb questions, so I got to see firsthand the wonderful work he and his staff do for babies and children from around the world.
Thanks, too, to Rosina Weber of Drexel University, as well as dear pal and now Harvard prof. James Cavallaro, Esq., and his great wife, Madja Rodigues. Thanks to Dr. Harvey Weiner, director of Academic and Community Relations at Eagleville, for his expertise and for the good work he does for those suffering from drug and alcohol addiction. Thanks, too, to William Fehr, consultant and pal of Mama Scottoline. Thanks to Barbara Capozzi, Karen Volpe, Joey Stampone, Dr. Meredith Snader, Julia Guest, Frank Ferro, Sandy Claus, Sharon Potts, and Janice Davis.
I owe biggest love and thanks to the brilliant and enthusiastic gang at St. Martin’s Press, starting with my editor, Jennifer Enderlin, whose comments on an early draft of Look Again improved the novel a thousandfold. (Not to mention that she thought of its terrific title, after I had been tearing my hair out for weeks.) And massive hugs all around to genius CEO John Sargent, ultrachic publisher Sally Richardson, the indomitable Matthew Shear, marketing maven Matt Baldacci, musical sales whiz Jeff Capshew, dynamic duo John Murphy and John Karle in publicity, Courtney Fischer, and Brian Heller. I’ve been overwhelmed by the wonderful energy, talent, and teamwork that St. Martin’s has shown me; it’s not a publishing house, it’s a powerhouse, and they pull together like crazy for a common goal, namely this book. I couldn’t feel happier or luckier to be at SMP, and I am indebted to all of you. Thanks so very much.
Deepest thanks and love to my genius agent and dear friend Molly Friedrich, Amazing Paul Cirone, new mom Jacobia Dahm, and to our newest addition, the lovely and talented Lucy Carson! Welcome, Lucy! This little tribe at the Friedrich Agency has nurtured me for a long, long time, and I feel enveloped in their embrace.
Thanks and big love to my wonderful assistant, Laura Leonard, who helps me in every single thing I do and is simply indispensable to my life.
And to my family, who are my life.
Think Twice is
Available in Bookstores Everywhere
Is evil born in us—or is it bred? That is the question at the heart of this penetrating novel from blockbuster New York Times bestselling author Lisa Scottoline
Bennie Rosato looks exactly like her identical twin, Alice Connelly, but the darkness in Alice’s soul makes them two very different women. Or at least that’s what Bennie believes—until she finds herself buried alive at the hands of her twin.
Meanwhile, Alice takes over Bennie’s life, impersonating her at work and even seducing her boyfriend in order to escape the deadly mess she has made of her own life. But Alice underestimates Bennie and the evil she has unleashed in her twin’s psyche. Soon Bennie, in her determination to stay alive long enough to exact revenge, must face the twisted truth that she is more like Alice than she could have ever imagined…and by the novel’s shocking conclusion, Bennie finds herself engaged in a war she cannot win—with herself.
With its blistering speed, vivid characters, and perplexing moral questions, Think Twice is a riveting emotional thriller that will keep readers breathless until the very last page.
Chapter One
Bennie Rosato didn’t have anything in common with her identical twin, except their DNA. They shared the same blue eyes, strong cheekbones, and full mouth, but whenever Bennie looked at Alice Connelly, all she could see were their differences. Tonight, Bennie had on a khaki suit, white shirt, and brown pumps, her lawyer uniform. Alice had on tight shorts with a low-cut black top, flaunting cleavage that Bennie didn’t even know they had. She made a mental note to look down her shirt, after she got home.
Alice was making dinner and she opened the oven door, releasing the aroma of roasting chicken. “Finally, it’s ready.”
“Smells great.”
“You sound surprised.”
“Not at all.” Bennie changed the subject. “I like your new house, it’s great.”
“Yeah, right.” Alice turned, carving fork in hand. “Why are you being so condescending?”
“I’m not.??
?
“You are, too. It’ll look better when I move all my stuff in, and the rent is low, since the estate can’t sell it. That’s the only way I could afford it. I don’t have your money.”
Bennie let it go. “It’s good that it came furnished.”
“This crap? It’s dead people furniture.” Alice pushed back a smooth strand of hair, yet another difference between them. She blew-dry her hair straight, and her eyeliner was perfect. Bennie let her hair curl naturally and thought ChapStick was makeup.
She sipped her wine, feeling warm. There was no air-conditioning, and the kitchen was small and spare except for knobby wooden chairs and a dark wood table. A greenish glass fixture gave little light, and cracks zigzagged down the plaster like summer lightning. Still the cottage had a rustic charm, especially set in the rolling countryside of southeastern Pennsylvania, an hour or so outside of Philadelphia.
Alice plopped the chicken on the table, then sat down. “Don’t panic, it’s organic.”
“You’re eating healthy now, huh?”
“What do you mean? I always did. So, are you dating anybody?” Alice asked.
“No.”
“How long’s it been since you got laid?”
“Nice talk.” Bennie bit into a potato, which tasted good. “If I remembered sex, I’d miss it.”
“Whatever happened to that lawyer you lived with? What was his name again?”
“Grady Wells.” Bennie felt a pang. She’d get over Grady, any decade now.
“So what happened?”
“Didn’t work out.” Bennie ate quickly. It had taken forever to get here from Philly, in rush-hour traffic. She wouldn’t get home until midnight, which wasn’t the way she wanted to end an exhausting week.
“Who’d you see after Grady?”
“Nobody serious.”
“So he’s the one that got away?”
Bennie kept her head down, hiding her expression. She couldn’t understand how Alice always intuited so much about her. They’d never lived together, even as babies, though Alice claimed to have memories from the womb. Bennie couldn’t even remember where she put her car keys.
“So, what’s new in your life? Don’t give me the official version. I read the website.”
“Nothing but work. How about you?”
“I’m seeing a few nice guys, and I’m working out. I even joined a gym.” Alice made a muscle of her slim arm. “See?”
“Good.” Bennie had been an elite rower in her time, but she’d been too busy lately to exercise. “By the way, I hear great things about the job you’re doing at PLG. Karen thinks you’re terrific.”
“Are you keeping tabs on me, now?”
“Of course not. I ran into her, at a benefit.”
Alice arched an eyebrow. “Does she have to report to you just because you got me the job?”
“No, but if I see her, we talk. She knows me, like she knows most of the bar association. She has to, we all support the Public Law Group.” Bennie felt a headache coming on. She’d lost a motion in court this morning, and it was turning out to be the high point of her day.
“So what did she say, exactly? She loves to gossip.”
“It wasn’t like that.” Bennie sipped her wine, but it didn’t help. “All she said was that they like you. They have you doing office administration, payroll, and personnel, in addition to the paralegal work.”
“Not anymore. I quit.”
“What?” Bennie said, blind-sided. “You quit PLG? When?”
“The other day. It wasn’t for me, and the money sucked.”
“But you have to start somewhere.” Bennie couldn’t hide her dismay. She’d stuck her neck out for Alice and now her friends at PLG would be left in the lurch. “They would have promoted you, in time.”
“When, ten years?” Alice rolled her eyes. “The work was boring, and the people were so freaking annoying. I’d rather work with you, at Rosato & Associates.”
Bennie’s mouth went dry. She couldn’t imagine Alice at her firm. “I don’t need a paralegal.”
“I can answer phones.”
“I already have a receptionist.”
“So fire her ass.”
Bennie felt cranky. Maybe it was the headache, which was a doozy. “I like her. I would never do that to her.”
“Not even for me? We’re the only family we have.”
“No.” Bennie tried to keep a civil tongue. Being her sister’s keeper was getting old. “I can’t fire her. I won’t.”
“Okay, fine, then think outside the box. You need somebody to run the office, don’t you?”
“I run the office.”
Alice snorted. “If you ask me, you could use a hand with personnel. Those girls who work for you need a life lesson, especially the little one, Mary DiNunzio. Time for girlfriend to grow up.”
“That’s not true.” Bennie wished she hadn’t come. Her stomach felt queasy. Her appetite had vanished. She set down her fork. “DiNunzio’s a good lawyer. She should make partner next month.”
“Whatever, then I’ll be your assistant. I’ll take ninety grand, to start.”
“Listen, I can’t always be the solution to your problems.” Bennie’s head thundered. “I got you a job, and you quit it. If you want another job, go out and find one.”
“Thanks, Mom.” Alice smiled sourly. “The economy’s in the toilet, if you haven’t noticed.”
“You should have thought of that before, and you’ll find something, if you try. You went to college, and you have lots of…abilities and, oh, my head….” Suddenly the kitchen whirled like spin art, and Bennie collapsed onto the table. Her face landed on the edge of her dirty plate, and her hand upset her water glass.
“Aww, got a headache?” Alice chuckled. “Too bad.”
Bennie didn’t know what was happening. She felt impossibly drunk. Her eyes wouldn’t stay open.
“You’re such a fool. You think I’d really want to work for you?”
Bennie tried to lift her head up, but couldn’t. All her strength had left her body. Sound and colors swirled together.
“Give it up. It’s over.”
Bennie watched, helpless, as darkness descended.
Save Me is Available in
Bookstores Everywhere April 12, 2011
From the New York Times bestselling author of Think Twice and Look Again comes an emotionally powerful novel about a split-second choice, agonizing consequences, and the need for justice
Rose McKenna volunteers as a lunch mom in her daughter Melly’s school in order to keep an eye on Amanda, a mean girl who’s been bullying her daughter. Her fears come true when the bullying begins, sending Melly to the bathroom in tears. Just as Rose is about to follow after her daughter, a massive explosion goes off in the kitchen, sending the room into chaos. Rose finds herself faced with the horrifying decision of whether or not to run to the bathroom to rescue her daughter or usher Amanda to safety. She believes she has accomplished both, only to discover that Amanda, for an unknown reason, ran back into the school once out of Rose’s sight. In an instance, Rose goes from hero to villain as the small community blames Amanda’s injuries on her. In the days that follow, Rose’s life starts to fall to pieces, Amanda’s mother decides to sue, her marriage is put to the test, and worse, when her daughter returns to school, the bullying only intensifies. Rose must take matters into her own hands and get down to the truth of what really happened that fateful day in order to save herself, her marriage and her family.
In the way that Look Again has readers questioning everything they thought they knew about family, Save Me will have readers wondering just how far they would go to save the ones they love. Lisa Scottoline is writing about real issues that resonate with real women, and the results are emotional, heartbreaking and honest.
Chapter One
Rose McKenna stood against the wall in the noisy cafeteria, having volunteered as lunch mom, which is like a security guard with eyeliner. Two hundred children were talking, thu
mb-wrestling, or getting ready for recess, because lunch period was almost over. Rose was keeping an eye on her daughter, Melly, who was at the same table as the meanest girl in third grade. If there was any trouble, Rose was going to morph into a mother lion, in clogs.
Melly sat alone at the end of the table, sorting her fruit treats into a disjointed rainbow. She kept her head down, and her wavy, dark blond hair fell into her face, covering the port-wine birthmark on her cheek, a large round blotch like blusher gone haywire. Its medical term was nevus flammeus, an angry tangle of blood vessels under the skin, but it was Melly’s own personal bull’s-eye. It had made her a target for bullies ever since pre-school, and she’d developed tricks to hide it, like keeping her face down, resting her cheek in her hand, or at naptime, lying on her left side, still as a chalk outline at a murder scene. None of the tricks worked forever.
The mean girl’s name was Amanda Gigot, and she sat at the opposite end of the table, showing an iPod to her friends. Amanda was the prettiest girl in their class, with the requisite straight blond hair, bright blue eyes, and perfect smile, and she dressed like a teenager in a white jersey tank, pink ruffled skirt, and gold Candie’s sandals. Amanda wasn’t what people pictured when they heard the term “bully,” but wolves could dress in sheep’s clothing or Juicy Couture. Amanda was smart and verbal enough to tease at will, which earned her a fear-induced popularity found in elementary schools and fascist dictatorships.
It was early October, but Amanda was already calling Melly names like Spot The Dog and barking whenever she came into the classroom, and Rose prayed it wouldn’t get worse. They’d moved here over the summer to get away from the teasing in their old school, where it had gotten so bad that Melly developed stomachaches and eating problems. She’d had trouble sleeping and she’d wake up exhausted, inventing reasons not to go to school. She tested as gifted, but her grades hovered at C’s because of her absences. Rose had higher hopes here, since Reesburgh Elementary was in a better school district, with an innovative, anti-bullying curriculum.