“I take back everything I ever said about wanting to look like you. Between this and the wheatgrass crap it’s just not worth it.”

“You already do look like me. Genetics and all that.”

“Yeah, stick a mirror between us and we could be twins. So long as it was a funhouse mirror.”

The joke fell flat. Millie gave her a tight smile, eyebrows lifting. She looked unsure whether she was meant to laugh or deny it. Lizzie forced back a sigh and stuffed her hands in the pockets of her sweatshirt.

As a matter of fact the Adair-Hamilton siblings did look alike. Elizabeth was shorter and curvier, nose and cheekbones more blunted than Emilia’s, but the family resemblance was undeniable. They shared the same colouring and their jaws set in identical lines when they were annoyed. The main difference was that Lizzie had more of both parents in her face. Millie tended towards their mother.

Today Lizzie made the mistake of attending a yoga class with her at the hotel gym. It was out of boredom rather than any desire to start exercising properly. Millie was always working or prepping for work (namely beautification or gym sessions) so this was the only chance she actually got to hang out with the woman. It was a mistake because now her muscles were protesting.

“Everybody always said how alike we look. You know, in between the digging for how long it’d been since we spoke.”

So that was the tack she’d take – subtly disagreeing without directly confronting it. Lizzie was starting to notice that about her. Every approach was at an angle.

“Nosy bitches. But hey, it’s nobody’s fault but mine. I could have your abs if only I wasn’t tragically afflicted with the lazy genes.”

Put next to anybody but a supermodel Lizzie would have been considered a beauty. The trouble was she was usually put next to a taller, slimmer, idealised version of herself. Despite being forced apart for several years, people still knew who her sister was. They still compared. It proved to be both curse and blessing. Some people unfairly called her the fat or ugly one (she was neither). Others viewed her as the same but better, a more approachable version.

It was strange to live under the shadow of someone so far away but Lizzie adored her big sister. Moments of resentment did exist but were short-lived.

The yoga however was not a good idea. She never exercised (never saw the need when she could remain slim without, even if not as slim as her sister). While Millie could gracefully bend her limbs in all directions she was straining and going red in the face. She’d done it but she’d pay for it tomorrow.

“No, you’re right. It’s definitely not worth it.”

“Says she who doesn’t have to get out of bed for less than fifteen grand.”

“In my defence that’s dollars not sterling.”

“Haha!”

Lizzie stole a glance sideways, wondering what she was thinking. After so much time apart she needed to learn her all over again, learn her expressions and moods. It was strange to think but she had never known her sister as an adult. She wasn’t a stranger yet wasn’t the person she remembered either.

The big conclusion so far was that Millie’s comments frequently had an undertone. She needed to get better at reading them.

“So now we’ve been good for the day, what’s the plan for tonight?” Lizzie asked. “Better get it in now before they spend tomorrow trussing you up.”

Millie stifled a groan. Tomorrow evening she was due at the Met Ball, which meant the entire day would be spent in wardrobe and make up. The process took so long she was usually fed up and desperate to get out of her outfit before she’d even arrived.

“I have to take some calls from LA.”

“Oh.”

Guilt jabbed at her solar plexus. “I’m sorry darling. I know how boring this is for you.”

“I understand, don’t worry.”

Millie wasn’t so sure she did understand. She was trying to. Did that really matter though when you were desperately trying to make up for several years of missed time?

In the weeks since she’d got her sister back things were hard. The Lizzie who arrived on her doorstep the very day after her twenty first birthday was somehow both a young woman yet still the traumatised pre-teen. There was insecurity and clinginess in the way she hovered at her side. The responsibility weighed heavy on her. It was strange – she’d been so much younger when taking care of Lizzie the first time around. And yet it came easier then than now. Now she felt continually wide of the mark. Her work schedule didn’t help.

In the bigger picture she felt Lizzie needed a career and life of her own. It was too soon to push her to that though. She needed time to settle and adjust. She needed some stability and some TLC. All things Millie felt she was failing to give her.   

When they rounded the corner and saw who was standing outside the opposite suite to theirs, however, Lizzie’s mood immediately picked up.

“Oh my god! Lissy!”

Millie’s neck and shoulders stiffened. She forced a smile onto her face as Lizzie ran down the corridor to throw herself at Felicity Jameson. A bemused looking Justin Timberlake was standing next to her.

“As I live and breathe!” Felicity exclaimed. “What are you doing here, kiddo?”

“I can’t believe it; it’s been for-ev-er!”

“I know, I know, haven’t been in London for months or I’d have stopped by. Hear you finally ditched the old man, how does it feel?”

“Fan-bloody-tastic.”

Millie approached them cautiously, aware of Felicity’s wary eyes on her. She didn’t know where to look. Her mind was still ticking over on the London comment. Had they still been in touch?

“Hi.” Millie wasn’t sure if she was addressing Felicity or Justin, but he was the one that answered.

“Hey. So I guess this is the sister you told me about?”

“Yes. Lizzie, Justin - Justin, Lizzie.”

“Oh yeah, forgot you said you’d done a video.” Lizzie stuck out her hand to him. “Nice to meet you.”

“And you.” He shook it firmly. “So who’s this ‘Lissy,’ exactly?” He elbowed Felicity.

“When she was little that was as much as she could say of my name,” she said, flicking a glossy sheet of dark hair back behind her shoulder. “It was so cute.”

“You in town for the Met Ball?” Lizzie asked. “Millie’s going.”

“I’m not, he is,” Felicity replied. “We were just catching up.”

“Oh, are you busy then? If we’re both stuck on our own we should have dinner.”

“Oh Lizzie you are so perfect sweetie, I had this God awful thing and no excuse to ditch. I’ll get us a table somewhere.”

“Just so long as it’s somewhere with dessert. Can never get her to eat one.”

There was not a single part of this conversation that Millie didn’t hate. The woman who detested her had apparently been seeing her sister while she couldn’t. Currently had an arm wrapped around her in the same easy affection she wished she could muster. Her knuckles clenched around the strap of her gym bag. All the while Justin (who last she heard was on the outs with Felicity) was peering at her like a lab specimen.

“I’m sorry but I need to keep going, got some calls later.” She turned to Lizzie. “Though if you want to stay and catch up don’t mind me, darling.”

“Okay.” She waved a hand. Apparently she didn’t mind at all.