‘“Why be so deceitful?”
“It isn’t to cheat him or anything. I dress up as a therapist whenever I come over. We hash everything out. There’s enough for a novel. I said to speak with his writer friend. You two are alter egos,” her tone was increasingly gentle, ”He wanted your opinion.”
“No kidding? He paid you to pose with your clothes off for him,” I fought to refute her, “but a bunch of antiques were more enticing?”
“Would you prefer me nude?”
“Are you joking?”
“I’m at your disposal.”
“Whatever you say,” I was secretly thrilled to watch her resort to such an extreme measure.
The impostor calmly rose, removed her shoes, set down her glasses with their leash, shed her blouse, slipped out of her slacks and discarded her undergarments. Only the fastener that tied her long hair back into a ponytail remained. Without a loose strand’s worth of interruption, it displayed her shapely curves. I gawked. Her gaze seemed to welcome mine even as it traveled along her bare body. She said, as if a lie had disguised her, “It’s how I do my job. What do you think? Caleb was afraid to see the truth.”’
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