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as if a flash of insight would turn it on. “You mean Charlie?”
    “Sure. Charlie. Where would I find him?”
    “In the kitchen, like always.”
    Like always. “And that would be…?”
    The man’s face screwed up even more, and he pointed to the swinging half doors to her left. Lexie spun on her heel. She was marching in the direction he’d pointed when the doors suddenly swung open. A dark-haired woman strolled through the archway and into the bar area with her head down as she flipped through the day’s mail.
    So Charlie was female.
    Lexie stopped and folded her arms over her chest. Out of habit, she rocked her right foot back onto its heel. “Are you the person responsible for the billboard over the freeway?”
    The woman didn’t even look up. “No interviews. The moral minority can just sit and spin for all I care.”
    “I’m not here to interview. I’m here to sue.”
    A sultry laugh left the woman’s throat, and she tossed her long hair over her shoulder as her chin came up. “Oh, really. On what grounds—?”
    Their gazes connected, and time stopped. Slowed down Matrix-style and froze.
    Lexie forgot to breathe.
    So did the woman in front of her.
    She knew, because it was like staring into a mirror. The woman facing her was her exact replica, a true doppelganger. The toes of Lexie’s right foot slowly dropped back to the floor. She needed all the balance she could get, because her world was going topsy-turvy again.
    She started to shake her head to clear her vision, but she couldn’t look away. She and the woman in front of her were identical in every way. Height. Body type. Even hairstyle. The face gawking at her could have been her own.
    Identical.
    It took a moment. Longer than that, actually, before the concept sank in.
    Identical.
    Oh, dear God. No, it couldn’t be.
    Oxygen hit her lungs hard, burning them as she inhaled sharply. She’d always known she was adopted. She’d been reminded of the fact practically every day of her life. She’d been a brown-eyed brunette in a family of blue-eyed blondes. She was known as “the adopted one”, yet she’d never considered she might have a sister out there. She rejected the thought almost instantly, thinking of Blaire. A full-blooded sister, she amended. Flesh and blood.
    But it was more than that. This woman could be a twin .
    Floundering, Lexie reached out and caught the bar for support.
    Almost simultaneously, the mail in the woman’s hand slipped from her fingers to the floor. It splattered everywhere, sliding noisily, but nobody in the room paid attention to it.
    “Who the hell are you ?”
    The tone was as aggressive and angry as the woman’s unblinking glare. It made Lexie flinch in surprise, and she clung to the bar a bit more tightly. “Lexie…” She stopped to clear her throat. “My name is Lexie Underhill.”
    The hard look on the other woman’s face melted, leaving her expression almost blank. Or stunned. Her chest rose and fell. “Lexie?” she repeated.
    Lexie nodded.
    “I’m Roxie,” the woman said.
    Lexie’s breath caught. Not Charlie at all.
    “Roxie Cannon.”
    Lexie and Roxie. Oh, sweet heaven. It just couldn’t be.
    Could it?
    They evaluated each other from head to toe, taking in details fast…then slowing down to make sure. Lexie had thrown on her favorite navy blue suit during her mad dash this morning, hoping it would bring her luck in the meeting. She’d never expected it would bring her luck like this. She watched this woman, a stranger who might have more in common with her than anybody else in the entire world. Roxie had on low-slung jeans with a metal-studded belt. It hugged her tightly, and so did the close-fitting black tank she wore. The body on that billboard hadn’t been airbrushed one stroke.
    Lexie couldn’t stop staring. Her replica was wearing high-heeled boots, while she was wearing high-heeled pumps. Roxie wore funky sterling-silver jewelry, while she wore a simple gold chain. Her