Identical

Chapter 6 - The Date (Part 1)

Cory's POV

It's Tuesday, and I feel like I'm going to throw up. I don't have a bug or anything - it's just that I'm a nervous wreck about my date with James.

He called me yesterday to confirm that I can still make it. There was a bit of edge to his voice, like he was prepared for me to cancel. When I said we were still a go, he relaxed, even laughing at a joke I made.

I know what I'm getting myself into. At least, I think I do. If I put aside the fact that James has a famous twin brother, I still have to think about his own reputation.

Publicly, he appears to be a successful businessman, with his main holdings being an import-export business. Add to it that he has significant holdings in other businesses, such as the financial and technology sectors, he might even be considered a tycoon if this was a different era.

There are rumors that some of his dealings have not always been on the right side of the law. There have been whispers of dealings with not-so-friendly foreign interests and possible investigations by different government entities. Still, I try to put all of that aside, only taking into consideration James, the man.

It seems he has a capacity for kindness, especially where his family is concerned. To others, though, he has a tough exterior shell that seems almost impossible to crack. And that's my downfall - I've always been intrigued by a mystery.

All James would tell of our date was to wear something nice. I comb my closet, trying to decide on just the right outfit - something that says I'm flirty without saying I'm easy. I finally decide on a dress the color of deep peridot that brings out the green in my eyes. It's a silky fabric that flows at the hem landing just above my knees, and I like the way it fits my body. After all, I'll never be called waif-thin since I'm a 10 US, but I can at least play up the assets Mother Nature gave me.

I decide to go minimal on my makeup, going for a sun-kissed look, at least as much as the freckles across my nose will allow, with a hint of eyeliner and mascara. As I'm adding my peach lip gloss, I hear the buzzer sound.

"I'll be right down," I say.

"Darling, I'd like to come up first, if I may," James says. I buzz him in then run to my bedroom to put on a pair of nude stilettos. I'm just in time to open the door on his first knock.

"Hello," I say a bit breathlessly.

"Good evening," James says with his hands behind his back. I step back to allow him to enter and close the door. When I turn to him, he's holding out a beautiful bouquet of peonies in the palest shade of pink. I smile at him as I take the bouquet.

"Thank you. They're beautiful," I say softly. "You're welcome," he says in the same soft tone, but his is more like the feel of velvet when it's caressed.

"Let me find a vase to put these in," I say as I walk to the kitchen. James follows me, and I can feel his intense stare as I look for a proper vase. Once I've filled it with water and placed them on my table, I arrange them a bit until they're to my liking.

"So, you're a tradionalist when it comes to flowers," he says.

"How do you mean?"

"Well, you placed them in the center of your table. That's very traditional."

I smile at his comment. "Actually, I'll take them to my bedroom when I return tonight"

"Is that so?"

"Yes. That way I can look at them when I first wake tomorrow." I blush a bit at my admission which causes James to grin in what I can only describe as devious manner. I wonder if he's thinking he'll be here to see them as well? I wonder if I'm just wishful thinking? I wonder if I've lost my mind? I think in rapid succession.

"Shall we go?" I ask, trying to banish thoughts of him in my bed.

"Of course," he says and the devious grin is still present as if he can read my thoughts.

James' POV

I'm nervous, no doubt about that. Who can blame me? I cannot remember the last time I was on a proper date. Sure, I've taken Stephanie to dinner a time or two, but those were not real dates...just a means to an end. Yes, I know I'm a bastard, and that makes me question everything about this evening.

Do I hold her hand? Do I give her a kiss? If so, when? At the end of the night? If she invites me up after dinner, what does that mean? Is she just being nice or does she have something else in mind? As much as I'd love to have sex with Cory, there's a part of me that hopes fervently that she's not that easy.

My biggest question is why did she agree to go out with me? Does she have an anterior motive? Is she hoping to get close to Tom through me? God, please do not let the last one be true. It's bad enough to have a brother who's the heartthrob of women all over the world, but to have a woman I'm seriously interested in use me in such a manner... Well, that would be more than I can take.

I know I've already put her on a pedestal. I somehow hold her to a higher standard than other women. I'm not expecting her to be chaste; I just want to believe it would take more than flowers or dinner to get her into bed.

As I open the door for her to be seated in the car, I wait patiently for her to adjust before I close the door. I hear a soft thank you before it shuts. Here's a girl I could take home to Mum...if she hadn't already met her, I think. Where are these thoughts coming from?

While I was getting ready for the date, I gave myself a good talking to. This is just a casual date, nothing more. Maybe it would be good for my mainstream  reputation to be seen in public with a beautiful woman. Maybe I might even get lucky, though I had brought no condoms because, firstly, I didn't think a woman like Cory would ever sleep with a man like me, and secondly, I really, really hope she's not that kind of girl. If she is, I guess she'll have her own supply of condoms.

I sighed as I tried for the third time to tie a Windsor knot.

"So, who is this girl you're taking out tonight? I know it's not Stephanie - you never get this dolled up for her," Robert asked. He was at my flat as he is many evenings since our line of work is the kind you bring home with you.

"No one special. Just the artist from whom we purchased Mum's painting," I said, trying to take on a casual air. Robert studied my reflection in the mirror before saying simply, "Hmm."

I was at last satisfied with my tie, so I walked to the living room to retrieve my jacket. Robert walked to the bar and poured himself two fingers of scotch from a decanter.

"No one special, you say?"

"That's right. This is more of a perfunctory dinner, if you will. Just a thank you for allowing us to hold Mum's party at her flat."

Robert stared at me again then took a drink. "So, do you think you'll fuck her?"

I turned to him, and I knew I had a glint in my eyes. "She's not that kind of girl. And I'd appreciate you not referring to her in such a manner," I said through gritted teeth.

Robert shrugged. "In the end, they're all that kind of girl, James" he said, downing the last of his scotch. I chose to ignore his comment as I gathered my keys and wallet.

"I assume you'll let yourself out," I said, still annoyed at Robert's words.

"Sure thing, Boss," he said with a grin.

I walked to my car, wondering once again what the bloody hell I was doing.