Chapter 2: An unusual request

Ashley's POV

My jaw practically hit the tabletop as Ashton finished laying out her outrageous request.

“You have got to be bullshitting me, Ashton. Is there a camera somewhere making a video of us? There has to be, right?”

My sister remained silent as if she hadn’t just dropped a bomb on my lap and I had to look around to be sure that I wasn’t dreaming.

"A weekend pretending to be you to visit your in-laws? Are you serious?"

A forced laugh escaped Ashton's lips, devoid of any humor. "Deadly serious, Ash. This isn't some prank like the time we convinced Mrs. Henderson she was seeing double."

The memory of that particular prank – complete with a strategically placed wig and a well-rehearsed limp – brought a reluctant smile to my face. But this situation felt vastly different, a world away from our childhood theatrics. Over the years, Ashton had perfected the art of the outrageous while I remained sane–quitting her stable job to backpack across Europe on a whim, that disastrous skydiving incident in Dubai that had ended up with her having to call me as her guardian, which was the only way I even found out that she wasn’t in the country–but never had she come to me with a request this…complicated.

"Ashton," I said, my voice laced with disbelief, "we haven't swapped places in years. Remember the whole 'almost getting kicked out of college' fiasco? You had me sit for your exams because you were wasted as hell and forgot to tell me that you had been making out with the lecturer’s assistant and then broken up with him so he was out for your blood."

A flicker of guilt crossed Ashton's usually carefree features. "Okay, that one was bad. But this is different. This is important."

 Her voice dipped to a near whisper, hand stretching out to envelope mine with a surprising desperation.  "Ash, please," she pleaded, her voice trembling slightly. "If I didn't need your help this badly, I wouldn't even dream of asking."

The sight of my usually fearless sister on the verge of tears pricked at my conscience. Pushing aside my initial resistance, I squeezed her hand back, a silent reassurance. "Alright, alright," I sighed, the words heavy with the weight of the unknown. "What exactly is going on? Why do you want us to swap?"

Ashton took a deep breath, her gaze flickering around the coffee shop as if searching for hidden ears. "It's the Thorne annual family dinner," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. "They're expecting me in Aspen this weekend, and I…well, I can't be there."

This weekend was two days away by the way. Typical Ashton to always do things last-minute. "Didn't you clear your schedule months ago for this family bonding weekend?"

"There's been a complication," she mumbled, avoiding my gaze. "A major art deal in Europe suddenly came up, and it's an opportunity I can't miss. But if I cancel on Andreas and his family now, it'll look terrible. They already barely tolerate me, and this would just confirm all their suspicions." 

"Barely tolerate you?" I scoffed, the understatement of the year. "Ashton, remember their faces when you waltzed down the aisle six months ago? It was like they were swallowing a gallon of vinegar." Even I, who hadn't exactly been thrilled about Ashton's whirlwind marriage, had felt a pang of sympathy for the family that was about to be saddled with my impulsive sister. More surprising was the fact that she had started taking her job as an art curator seriously. It had to be her way to show the Thornes that she was not completely a nuisance that was after their son’s wealth.

"Come on, Ash," Ashton pressed, her voice laced with desperation. "Think about it. Two days, tops. We've pulled off swaps that lasted for weeks before. Remember that summer with Aunt Martha? You aced her bridge game and I somehow managed not to burn down her kitchen."

A ghost of a smile touched my lips at the memory. Aunt Martha, bless her unsuspecting soul, had never suspected a thing during our week-long visit. But this felt different. This wasn't a harmless prank between sisters. This was impersonating a married woman, navigating a family dinner with a bunch of icy strangers who already disliked Ashton, to begin with.

"They'd see through me in a heartbeat," I countered, my voice laced with doubt. "We may be identical, but we're practically opposites. Remember that time you helped me sit in for my literature class? You ended up quoting Keats instead of Kafka."

Ashton winced. "Okay, that wasn't my finest hour. But trust me, I’ll give you all the information that you need to know."

A reluctant chuckle escaped my lips. Ashton always had a way of making the absurd sound almost reasonable, because just how much information would be enough to pretend to be married to her husband. "And what about Andreas? Won't he find it odd that his wife suddenly morphs into a bookworm who would rather not be bothered about being the center of attention?"

Ashton hesitated, a flicker of unease crossing her features. "Look," she finally admitted, her voice barely a whisper, "things haven't exactly been…smooth between us lately. There's this issue we haven't quite seen eye-to-eye on, so you can use that as an excuse to keep your distance if you're worried about him seeing through the act."

My stomach churned. This whole charade was a terrible idea, a recipe for disaster. Yet, a part of me couldn't deny the strange appeal of having Ashton in my debt. The image of her owing me a favor, one I could cash in on any time, was strangely tempting.

"Ashton," I began, my voice laced with apprehension, "I really don't think this is a good idea."

But the hopeful glint in her eyes and hesitant smile, a reflection of the goofy, full-toothed smiles we used to share as kids, silenced my protests. "Please, Ash," she pleaded. "You're my only hope. I promise you won't regret this."

The corner of my mouth twitched upwards, a reluctant smile betraying my reservations. "Well, Ashton," I sighed, "let's just hope you're right about that. Because if this blows up in our faces, we are both going to regret it for a very long time."

Ashton's smile was so wide and genuine, that I almost ignored the nervous tremor in her hands. "Don't worry, Ash," she assured me, squeezing my hand tightly. "This will be a breeze. You'll be back in your cozy little world by Monday, with a story to tell and a very grateful sister who owes you big time."  

A knot of unease tightened in my stomach, but beneath it, a spark of excitement flickered to life. This was a crazy, outrageous plan, the kind Ashton usually dragged me into. But for the first time in a long time, I wasn't the cautious twin holding her back. This time, I was diving headfirst into the unknown, and there was no turning back.