The Switch (2000)

Excerpt: Chapter One

"Kiss, kiss." Melina Lloyd kissed the air in the general direction of her twin sister’s cheeks. "I’ve ordered an Italian white wine. Crisp, light, and not too fruity, according to the waiter who was. Fruity that is. Speaking of, here he comes." Gillian sat down across from her. The waiter served her glass of Pinot Grigio, spilling some of it over his hand as his shaved head swivelled back and forth between them. "Oh, my goodness gracious!" "We’re identical," Gillian said, sparing him from asking.

"I’m speechless. The resemblance is positively flabbergasting."

Melina gave him a frosty smile. "My sister would like to place a drink order, please. If it’s convenient."

Her tone of voice, which had been as crisp as the wine, got his attention. "Certainly," he said, practically clicking his heels. "Forgive, forgive. Madam?"

"Club soda. Lots of ice, wedge of lime, please."

"I’ll be back prontomente with your drink and to recite today’s specials."

"I can hardly wait," Melina muttered as he glided away.

Gillian leaned forward and whispered, "Is prontomente a word?"

"Is flabbergasting?"

The sisters laughed together. "I’m glad to see you smiling," Gillian remarked. "When I got here you looked grumpy enough to snarl."

"I am a little cranky," Melina admitted. "I had to drive an author to the airport this morning in time for a five fifty-eight flight. Five fifty-eight! I know publicists book flights at those ungodly hours just to provoke us media escorts."

"Who was the early bird? Anybody interesting?"

"Forgot her name. First book. ‘Treating Your Children Like Pets.’ Subtitled ‘With Amazing Results.’"

"Two-year-olds are sitting up and barking on command?"

"I don’t know. I didn’t read it. But someone is. It’s currently number three on The New York Times bestseller list."

"You’re kidding."

"Swear to God. If it’s gimmicky enough, it’ll sell. Nowadays even I could write a book. It’s just that I can’t think of anything interesting to write about." She thought it over for a second or two. "Maybe about the famous and infamous I’ve met and barely tolerated for a day. But then I’d probably be sued."

The waiter returned with Gillian’s club soda and a tiny silver basket of breads. He recited his elaborate spiel, which was more about adjectives than food, and retreated in a huff when they ordered avocado halves stuffed with shrimp salad off the printed menu.

Melina offered the basket to Gillian, who broke open a quarter-size biscuit spiked with pecan bits. "What about being an identical twin? You could write about that."

"There’s too much material there. The field would need to be narrowed."

"Being dressed alike versus not?"

"Possibly."

"Competing for parental attention?"

"Better. How about connecting through preternatural telepathy?" Melina eyed Gillian over the rim of her wine glass as she sipped from it. "Which leads me to note that my twin seems awfully introspective today. What’s up?"

Before answering, Gillian polished off the biscuit and dusted flour from her fingertips. "I did it."