When Olivia had been acting in her first film, The Groves, the mega-famous Hollywood studio head, Harker, had told her, ‘Hey, kid, the key to selling any role is first confidence and then the details.’
Mrs Abbott shrugged, looking a bit befuddled. ‘OK, that’s fine. Have fun and I hope you don’t get too hot in that thing.’
Olivia shut the door behind her, replacing the wig and hood so that she was re-Ivy-ed. I swear, if I get past this little mess I’ve made, I will never tell another lie ever again.
Olivia checked her reflection in the window of Mister Smoothie. She looked like Ivy, but with a tan. She slipped off the coat and draped it over her arm. Holly didn’t know why Ivy was always so pale, so Olivia should be able to get away with it. Perhaps Ivy had been outside a lot while on vacation in Europe. Olivia almost burst out laughing at the thought. Ivy Vega volunteering for outdoor activities? The thought was ridiculous.
Olivia glanced at her watch and started going over the plan one more time in her head. It was 10 a.m. She would go inside, pretending to be Ivy. She would tell Holly that Olivia wouldn’t be long and that they should begin without her. That would give Holly a chance to take some photos. At 10.22 a.m., Sophia would call Olivia’s phone. Ivy-Olivia would act as though the real Olivia were on the phone. Then Ivy-Olivia would tell Holly that Olivia was stuck at their father’s house helping him with something, and that Ivy was needed there right away too. The three of them would have to hang out together some other time. Like when Ivy gets back from Transylvania, thought Olivia.
Simple, right?
Olivia took a deep breath. It would be a miracle if she made it through the day without having a heart attack! The door chimed as she stepped inside Mister Smoothie. She did a quick scan of the restaurant, spotting Holly right away with her long red streaks of hair. She was sitting in a corner booth with her back to the door.
Olivia started to walk over. Hold on . . . Ivy wouldn’t know who Holly was, or what she looked like. The two had never met. So she wouldn’t just walk over there, would she? ‘No,’ Olivia muttered under her breath. ‘Play it cool.’ That was what Ivy would do and Olivia needed to sell the part. It’s all in the details, she reminded herself.
All right, where to go first? Olivia headed for the opposite side of Mister Smoothie. That should throw Holly off the trail. She strolled around, making sure to look at all the customers.
A girl in a football jersey and jeans looked up from stirring her Mocha Choca Latte smoothie. ‘What are you looking at, Goth Girl?’
Olivia froze in place. If she were the real Ivy, she’d have something witty to say. Not at you, Smoothie Drinker. No, that was terrible. Try kicking a football someplace else, Jersey Girl. That was even lamer. Nothing else was coming to mind, so Olivia just made an awkward shrug and moved on to another booth.
When she’d pretend-inspected nearly all the available booths, Olivia decided she had kept the charade up long enough. Walking over to where Holly was sitting and fiddling with her camera, Olivia tapped her on the shoulder. ‘Are you Olivia’s pal?’ Pal? Who says ‘pal’ any more?
Holly closed the viewfinder of her camera and looked ‘Ivy’ over. She smiled. ‘Sure am.’ She extended a hand. ‘I’m Holly. It’s great to finally meet you. How was Transylvania?’
Olivia scooted into the pink-leather booth opposite Holly. ‘It was good. Actually, I’m headed back tomorrow.’ She had rehearsed the cover story. If Ivy had to go back across the Atlantic, there was no way Holly could expect another get-together. Olivia couldn’t handle pulling this switcheroo every single day! ‘Yeah, it totally sucks,’ she finished.
Holly frowned. ‘Didn’t you just say it was good?’
Olivia suppressed her instinct to laugh nervously. That was so not Ivy. But what a fool she was! Bunnies didn’t know that ‘sucks’ meant ‘good’ in vampire speak. And she couldn’t explain that to Holly without outing all of vampire society.
I’ll just have to improvise. She put one elbow on the table and picked at the Midnight Mauve polish she’d painted on her nails. ‘Oh, you know, I don’t like to play by the rules. I’d rather give words my own meanings. “Sucks” means “totally cool”. In Ivy-speak, I mean.’
‘I like it,’ said Holly enthusiastically. ‘In fact,’ she continued, unsheathing the lens to her camera, ‘I’m really digging your whole vibe. That look –’ she shaped her fingers into a rectangular frame – ‘the hair, the make-up, the rocker T-shirt and jeans . . . it’s so . . . open-minded. I can tell you’re a traveller of the world. Do you mind if I take a few pictures?’
‘Snap away.’ Olivia set her phone down on the table and tried to pull off her best tough-girl poses. Some of the other customers were looking at her oddly and she tried not to feel self-conscious or worry that they recognised her. Be brave! she told herself, folding her arms over her chest. She tried flexing her biceps for the camera. How utterly embarrassing, she thought, once again thankful that Ivy wasn’t here to witness her horrible impersonation.
‘Another look,’ Holly directed. ‘Pretend you’re gazing out over an African desert.’
Olivia gazed into the distance, brooding . . . and nearly jumped out of her skin. There was Brendan, outside the window, staring at her in shock. Olivia gulped and quickly glanced away. This will be OK, she tried to tell herself.
At least Holly didn’t seem to suspect anything. She kneeled on the tiled floor of Mister Smoothie, catching various angles. Olivia listened to the click, click, click but she could see Brendan walking over, waving excitedly. Her mouth felt dry and it was all she could do to maintain her cool composure.