Forbidden Sister (The Forbidden 1)

“Um,” she said, still considering me. “We have college girls, too, you know.” She turned to Roxy. “Clair de Lune has a BA from Columbia. Anyway,” she continued, starting to look bored, “I don’t want to see or hear about any problems, Roxy.”

“You won’t.”

She looked at me again. “You mean to stand there and tell me you’re a virgin, then?”

“Yes,” I said. “I haven’t met the right young man for that.”

“The right young man? I thought you kids today weren’t as discriminating and treated sex as just another recreation.”

“I don’t,” I said firmly.

She shook her head. “It’s amazing how two girls from the same home can be so different,” she said, and laughed. I saw how uncomfortable Roxy was becoming.

“I’m sure there was no one in your family exactly like you, Mrs. Brittany,” I told her, and she lost her smile for a moment. The silence that fell was heavy. It felt as if all of the oxygen had left the room.

Then she relaxed. “I see in you one quality you share with your sister, being headstrong, fearless. That could be good, or . . .” She turned to leave, then turned back at the door. “It could be disastrous. The trick is knowing when to watch your mouth.” She smiled. “Maybe that’s something you’ll learn while you’re here, and it won’t be a total waste.” She looked at Roxy. “Let’s talk,” she snapped, and walked out.

Roxy glanced at me, nodded, and followed her.

I let out my breath.

From a distance, Mrs. Brittany looked like an attractive, elegant woman, but up close, her true nature showed itself. She wasn’t just tough; she was street tough, with those rough edges of someone who had clawed and scratched her way out of the gutter. Maybe she had learned how to appear dignified, aristocratic, and cultured, but as Mama might say, scratch her skin, and you’ll find an alley cat lurking.

If the devil came as a woman, it would be someone like her, I thought. Roxy wasn’t sensitive to it or perhaps was deliberately blind because of her situation, but I sensed a cruel coldness under her suave, sophisticated appearance. Despite my bravado, she chilled my blood and made my heart thump when she scrutinized me the way she must have scrutinized Roxy.

I hoped I wouldn’t see much of her.

Roxy returned nearly a half hour later. “We’re all right for now,” she said. “She was impressed with you, but she’s very careful about everything. This is a very big enterprise involving very important people, M. I’m just telling you all this so you won’t feel bad about the way she spoke to you.”

“I didn’t feel bad about the way she spoke to me, Roxy. I don’t know her, and she doesn’t know me. I felt bad about the way she spoke to you.”

“Forget it,” she snapped. “I can handle her. Don’t make trouble.”

I looked away.

“One thing I didn’t bring you here to do, M, is judge me, understand? Go on about your own life, and don’t try to interfere with mine.”

“Okay, okay,” I said.

She stood there staring at me.

“I’ll do what you say,” I promised, and she relaxed.

“We’re going out to dinner tonight. There’s a little Italian restaurant I frequent uptown. I like it because the food’s good and it’s out of the way. You’ll have a good time, but I think we should go to your school tomorrow and get you started again. You can’t mope around here all day. Okay? Okay,” she repeated harshly when I didn’t respond.

“Yes.”

“Good. Take a bubble bath or something, and . . .” She paused. “Stop acting like Papa. Get off your high horse,” she told me, and left.

There I was, immersed in luxury and comfort, but it didn’t bring me happiness and security. The reality seemed clear to me despite the act Roxy performed. She had tried to make it all seem like nothing, but I knew in my heart that I had entered her world, and there were dangers there that I probably had never imagined.

21

“You’ll like these people, and the food is great,” Roxy told me when we got into the taxi to go to the Italian restaurant. “I’ve been going there for a few years. In case any questions come up, you should know that I told them my family was in Los Angeles,” she added. “It was just easier.”

I didn’t say anything, but I realized that Roxy had to invent a lot of things to get along with people she met, not that her so-called clients were really interested in her, I imagined. She had already clearly implied that it was a no-no to talk about herself and tell anyone what was true. Mrs. Brittany surely insisted that her girls remained mysterious. I understood that was the combination that made them so desirable: beauty and mystery.

The restaurant was cozy. It felt more like eating at someone’s home because of the soft-cushioned chairs, the personal pictures, and the family artifacts. The couple who ran it, Ed and Mary Diana, were both in their mid-sixties and obviously very fond of Roxy. From their conversation, I gathered that they hadn’t the faintest idea of what Roxy did or how she lived. Between the lines, I picked up that they assumed that she was involved with clothing since she always wore such beautiful and expensive-looking clothes. I realized that she let them believe that she was a buyer for a department store. However, I thought I saw some awareness in Mr. Diana when Roxy introduced him to me. Roxy was careful about what she told them about me, never really saying that I had moved in with her.