A Secret Identity by Gayle Roper

her life and the lives of the others she was involved with. Through both books I developed her romance with Scott Henderson.
    By the time the books were finished, I wanted to meet my own Scott Henderson. He was tall and handsome, intelligent, and had a heart for God. He also knew how to make a woman happy. He was always there to support Marci through her trials. He held her hand when she was hurt and offered a strong shoulder to cry on. He prayed for her and loved her unreservedly. He accepted her just as she was, encouraging her in the process of becoming God’s woman.
    Sometimes I was afraid that men like Scott existed only in fiction. I certainly wasn’t meeting guys like him. Then I thought of Mom and Pop and Ward and Marnie. They’d found true love…real love. And I prayed almost desperately that God would let me find the same.
    I rubbed a finger softly over the cover of So My Soul . Others wrote trilogies. I wrote series of two. Duologies? Maybe some day I’d think up enough stuff to warrant a trilogy, but for now, two did it. And these two were doing it exceedingly well.
    I was standing there grinning to myself when someone bumped my arm. I turned to say I was sorry and found myself face-to-face with the handsomest lawyer in Lancaster County.
    “Hey,” I said cleverly as I tried not to stare at his magnificent jawline.
    “Well, hi,” he said, slightly more articulate.
    “Here for dinner?” I asked.
    He nodded. “I find restaurants good places to come for dinner, don’t you?”
    I grinned. It was either that or blush a zillion shades of red for my inane remark. “Chitchat’s not my strong suit,” I said. “Whatever comes to mind comes out, idiotic or not.”
    He grinned politely back.
    “Guess what I did today?” I said.
    Of course he hadn’t the vaguest idea.
    “I called all the Biemsderfers in the phone book.”
    He nodded as if he were actually interested. “Any of them confess to being long-lost relatives?”
    I shook my head.
    “I’m glad,” he said. “I’d hate to lose a billing before I had a chance to reap all the profits possible.”
    “Ah,” I said. “Res ipsa loquitor.”
    He shook his head. “Carpe diem .”
    “I know that one,” I said. “Seize the day. I also know et al, ipso facto , and et cetera .”
    “I’m impressed,” he said. “I’ve always appreciated multilingual people.”
    I think that this time I actually did blush at his gentle teasing, but I’m not certain. It could have been the heat from my afternoon sunburn.
    A woman’s voice said, “Two?” and I realized we were standing before the hostess. She looked at Todd, obviously anticipating that yes, he and I were two and here for dinner together. I definitely flushed now, expecting him to say, “Oh no, I’m not here with her. I’m just making pleasant conversation because she’s a client. I’m really here with that beautiful woman over there.”
    Instead he looked at me and raised an eyebrow in invitation. Surprised and pleased, I gave a small nod.
    “Yes, two. Reasoner,” he said. Then, in an aside to me, “Thanks for being here. Now I can claim the meal as a business deduction.”
    Startled, I looked at him and caught a gleam of humor in those brown eyes, those bottomless brown eyes. I’d been right.
    “Thirty to forty minutes,” the hostess said.
    We nodded and moved away. Just then a couple got up from a bench along the wall and we took the deserted seats.
    “Tell me about your phone calls,” Todd asked. And for the next twenty minutes, I did. He listened attentively, asking questions every so often, laughing at Mrs. Marlin, Sr., hanging up on me.
    “So I’m going to have lunch with Alma next Thursday when she comes to get her mother. She’s bringing the family tree with her.”
    When I finished, he just looked at me, a smile on his face. “And you’re not the least bit excited about this meeting, are you?”
    “It shows?”
    “You’re positively vibrating.”
    I stared at him.