Double-life Well Lived

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

“Clara, pleeease,” Merry-Beth whined as she pouted perfectly painted red lips and batted thick false lashes at her older sister.  “I leave for Bali in the morning and God knows how long I’ll be there.”

“You’ll be there 8 days,” Clara didn’t look up from her computer as she willed something urgent to jump from the screen and suck her into it so she could avoid this lunch date with her sister. However, Beatrice, her administrative assistant extraordinaire had inadvertently thrown her under the bus by declaring in front of Merry-Beth that her one o’clock had cancelled and now she was free for the rest of the afternoon. Expletives that would make her grandfather roll in his grave reverberated through her brain and she closed her grey eyes and then looked back at the screen. Still, nothing jumped from the calendar to save her. “Where is this place again?”

“Manhattan,” Merry-Beth clapped her hands excitedly and kicked her feet as if she was still five-years old and getting that pony she always wanted. “It’s a brand new restaurant and the chef is a James Beard award winner and I met him the other night at Consuela’s birthday gathering. He was so lovely, and he said any time I wanted a seat at his table to just ring him up and he’d get it for me. His brother is some kind of restaurant mogul. Both are chefs but I only met Raoul. I don’t even know the other guy’s name, but I have Raoul’s number right here and I’ll call him now.”

Clara stared at her sister and wondered when she’d pause for air. The words just coming out of her mouth, and she was sure she hadn’t so much as had an intake of air. As her sister giggled into her cell phone asking for Raoul and identifying herself as Merry-Beth Winchester, “yes, that Merry-Beth Winchester,” Clara rolled her eyes. Having a sister who was a world-famous supermodel took the spotlight off her and she was fine with that. Different fathers had produced different genes and as Jerry, Mother’s fourth husband had once declared, the girls were like chalk and cheese. Merry-Beth had high angular cheekbones, a straight flawless nose, eyes as blue as cornflowers in summer and hair of long golden ringlets that were her trademark in a tough industry. She was a lithe six feet in height with an enviable size zero waistline. She was a head turner. Clara was glad because it meant all eyes were focused on the goddess and not on her.

Merry-Beth was no dummy. She traded on her looks and the flirtatious act she developed was often great camouflage for a hard nose for business and she used that blonde stereotype to her advantage. Sometimes though, she forgot it was an act and the vacuous empty-headed babble that would creep into their conversations would make Clara’s skin crawl. Clara had no time for pretenses and falsehoods. She was who she was and if someone didn’t like it, they could piss off.

She sighed as she bent down and pulled her purse out of the bottom drawer of her desk and then locked her computer screen. Her sister had secured the best seat in the house at Pygmalion. Clara wouldn’t lie, she’d never heard of the place. Being the CEO of her grandfather’s multi-billion-dollar tech company had made her one of the wealthiest women in the world, but it had also taken a lot of her life and the little free time she did have was invested in the activities that only a select few individuals would ever know about. Dining out, clubbing, and traveling to exotic locations were not high on her priority list.

“Oh my God, I’m so excited,” Merry-Beth swung her long legs and got out of the leather back chair with a practiced grace and poise.  “I may end up eating everything on the menu.”

Clara followed her sister silently out of the office shooting her admin a scowl.  Beatrice shrugged and offered an apologetic smile. She had known as soon as she had opened her mouth that she had messed up, but she couldn’t take it back and Clara knew it wasn’t her fault.  She would forgive her but not right now. Right now, she was unable to come up with a valid excuse to avoid spending time with her sister. It wasn’t that she didn’t like spending time with her sister. They were close as two sisters with a ten-year age gap could be. They just lived in very different worlds and had very different ideas of success. They shared little common ground apart from both equally having little, if any, respect for the woman that birthed them.  Their mother and their disdain for her lifestyle was the one thing that caused them both the same anxieties and irritations. One phone call from her could send them both spinning, and Clara knew the trauma that came from sharing their mother is what made them closer.

Merry-Beth was still yammering on about Raoul and his impressive resume of restaurants he’d worked for and the accolades he’d garnered in his career. Something about a thirty under thirty and one of the youngest to ever win the James Beard award was the last thing Clara heard as she tried to focus on breathing as she entered the elevator. She knew her security team was waiting at the bottom floor and would accompany them anywhere they went. It was something her grandfather had insisted upon when she became CEO and truthfully, she didn’t have the heart to tell him it was unnecessary. The less he knew the better.  As the doors opened with a pinging sound and they stepped into the bright sunshine filled lobby of Draxton Enterprises, they were immediately flanked by Ben and Todd, two supersized behemoth men that would accompany them everywhere they went this afternoon. Clara knew size didn’t matter when it came to protecting oneself. She had a team of women who could take these two down without them even knowing they were in the room. But having them close at hand made her grandfather happy and so she tolerated it.

The car was waiting, and the driver averted his eyes as Merry-Beth slid into the seat, her short skirt sliding higher than appropriate, and Clara rolled her eyes as the sound of paparazzi started screaming Merry-Beth’s name trying to get her attention. No doubt, someone just got a great angular shot and Clara would be buying another set of intimate photos of her sister’s privates from some unscrupulous asshole to avoid them being printed.  She looked at Ben, “Find out who got that photo and get me the SIM card.” It wasn’t a request and Ben didn’t pause as he spoke into his cuff and instructed whoever his security underling was to find the paparazzi and get the card. Money was no object when it came to protecting her sister and Clara was pretty sure God himself could be bought with the interest from her bank account.

Merry-Beth had gone quiet as they got into the car. She stared out the window for several minutes before turning apologetic eyes to Clara. “Sorry, as soon as I slid, I knew…”

Clara waved her off. “Ben is on it. The photo will never see the light of day.”

“Sometimes, I think I have it all together and then I do something stupid like that and I worry the acorn didn’t fall far enough from the tree.” Merry-Beth rubbed her forehead as if it throbbed.

Clara took her sisters hand between hers. “You’re nothing like Mother. You are kind and loving and smart as hell. Never, ever compare yourself to her.” Grey eyes bored into blue ones. “What just happened was an accident, ill-timed and unfortunate. Mother would have planned that down to making sure her favorite cameraman was there and ensuring the photo was in every rag by dinner. You’re nothing alike.”

Merry-Beth smiled at her older sister. Clara was always looking out for her, taking care of her, and protecting her. She hoped by the time she was thirty, she would have some of the wisdom her sister had. As her sister smiled reassuringly at her, the scar that ran along her cheekbone lifted high into her temple area and Merry-Beth was reminded yet again that her sister had killed for her, not once but three times. There was nothing Clara wouldn’t do for her. Nothing.