Free The Klone and I by Danielle Steel Page A

she knew what was coming.
    I was surprised the doorman hadn't announced who was coming up, and figured whoeverit was had slipped past him, or maybe it was someone from the building, with a package for me. But I was in no way prepared for what I saw, when I opened the door, and almost dropped the ladle I was holding. It was Peter, in an outfit the likes of which I had never seen, anywhere, at any time, on anyone, and certainly not on Peter. He was wearing fluorescent green satin pants, skintight and startlingly revealing, with a see-through black net shirt, with a little sparkle to it, and a pair of black satin cowboy boots I'd seen in a Versace ad, with rhinestone buckles. I remember distinctly wondering who on earth would wear them, when I saw it. His hair was slicked back, differently than he normally wore it, and he was smiling at me. It was Peter, there was no doubt about that, and he had played the best joke on me. He hadn't left town at all. He had stayed, and dressed up for Halloween, a little early to be sure. It was a far cry from his immaculate white jeans, and well-pressed khakis, and the blue Oxford shirts I had grown so fond of.
    I threw my arms around his neck and laughed. It was a terrific trick to play, and I loved it. “You're here! … And that's quite an outfit!” I noticed that he was wearing a different aftershave. I liked it, but it was a lot stronger, and made me sneeze. And as he followed me back into the kitchen, he walked with an outrageousswagger. He was almost grinding his hips, and in the clothes he was wearing, reminded me of an interesting cross between Liberace, Elvis, and Michael Jackson. He looked as though he were about to go onstage in Las Vegas.
    “Do you like it?” He seemed pleased that I liked what he was wearing, and smiled broadly at me.
    “It's quite a surprise…. What I like best is that you're here.” I couldn't stop grinning as I watched him, and put down the ladle as I stared at him sauntering around my kitchen. I could hardly wait till the kids saw him, particularly Charlotte, who had just been complaining about how conservative he was, and how boring. This was definitely not boring, neither the trick he had played, nor the outfit he had worn to do it.
    “He told you I was coming, didn't he?” he asked, as he straddled one of my kitchen chairs, and ran a hand up the skirt I was wearing. It was a gesture he had never before made with the kids so near at hand. But fortunately, they were both in their rooms, doing their homework.
    “Who?” I was confused by the question. No one had spoiled the surprise, how could they? I hadn't met many of his friends yet. It was still too soon, and he hadn't had time to introduce me.
    “Peter,” he said, sliding his other hand up the other leg, as I pulled away gently. If one of thechildren walked in, I didn't want them to see that. It might shock them, but the sensations he was causing were certainly pleasant.
    “Peter who?” He was so distracting, between the way he looked and the way he behaved, and the very fact that he was there, that I couldn't concentrate on what he was saying. I still couldn't get over the fact that he hadn't gone to California, and I was pleased that he hadn't.
    He spoke as though to a child, with careful patience, as I gently avoided his hands this time and looked at him, trying to understand what he was saying. “Didn't Peter tell you I'd be here?”
    “Very funny. No, you didn't tell me you'd be here. You told me you were going to San Francisco, and I'm thrilled you didn't.”
    “I did,” he said smiling ingenuously. “I mean, he did. He left this morning. He told me to get here by dinner. He told me you'd be out before that, picking up the children at school.”
    “You are utterly outrageous,” I said, laughing openly. “Are you pretending not to be Peter? Is that the game here?” It was very clever, and it totally amused me. He looked so out of character, it was perfect.
    “I'm not pretending