Forbidden Sister (5 page)

Although it had been so long since I had seen her and my recollections of her were understandably vague, studying her pictures in the closet whenever I could sneak in and the resemblance she had to Mama made it easy for me to recognize her instantly. Both of us had Mama’s petite facial features and Mama’s color hair. Her posture and her walk also reminded me of Mama. She was taller than I had expected her to be, but Papa was a tall man.

“Wow. She is beautiful,” Chastity said softly.

I almost didn’t hear her. Amazingly, I felt pride. For the moment, at least, I didn’t think of Roxy as being a woman for hire. She was instead this stunning young woman who walked with great self-confidence, looking forward and seemingly unaware of all the men who turned her way or passed her on the sidewalk but left their eyes behind.

“Let’s follow her,” Chastity suggested.

I paused. “Follow her?”

“Let’s see where she’s going. Maybe she’s going to meet a man. C’mon,” she said, speeding ahead.

“Wait.”

She stopped, her hands on her hips. “What? This is what we came here to do, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but . . . let’s stay far enough behind. I don’t want her to see me following her,” I said.

She looked after Roxy. “We’re far enough now. C’mon.”

I joined her, and we crossed the street. Roxy was a good half-block ahead of us, but I was walking too slowly for Chastity.

“We’ll lose her if she turns or something,” she said.

I sped up, and a few minutes later, we saw Roxy cross the street and go into a boutique. I wanted to keep walking. Maybe this was enough for today, I thought, but Chastity stepped off the sidewalk and started across before I could say anything. I hurriedly followed her, and we approached the shop.

“We’ll just walk by and glance in,” Chastity said. She was really enjoying this. I almost didn’t matter. Again, before I could respond, she charged forward. I stepped up alongside her, realizing that I could use her body to block myself from view. When we reached the shop, even though I was very nervous about it, I looked in and saw that Roxy was looking over a dress the saleslady had handed her. We hesitated and saw Roxy go into a dressing room.

“I bet this place is very expensive,” Chastity said, remaining at the door.

“Let’s go before she sees us spying on her.”

“Wait. I want to see what she looks like in the dress.”

“But . . .”

“Stop worrying so much. She won’t see us. She certainly doesn’t expect you to be here, right?”

“Yes.”

“So let’s pretend we’re interested in what they have in the window. C’mon,” she urged when I hesitated.

I joined her, and we were able to look past the
mannequins and see Roxy come out of the dressing room wearing a beautiful low-cut black evening dress. It seemed made for her, and when I looked closer in the window, I saw that the clothes in the shop were indeed fitted and made to order. I nodded at the sign to point it out to Chastity.

“Wow. That dress must cost thousands.”

“Maybe,” I said. “Probably.”

Roxy looked happy with it and went in to change back into her other clothes.

“Let’s cross the street before she comes out,” I said.

Chastity nodded, gazed longingly at a dress on one of the mannequins, and followed me. She was looking down all the way. I could feel her depression.

“You could lose weight and get into one of those dresses someday, Chas,” I said.

“Yeah, sure,” she said, but looked helpless.

“What?”

“It’s like there’s someone else inside me making me eat all the wrong things,” she said. “Your sister is really very beautiful. If I could be that beautiful, I wouldn’t care if I was an escort or whatever she’s called. I bet she’s having a good time.”

“I don’t know. Maybe she’s like someone’s slave or something.”

“You’ve got to talk to her, Emmie. I’m sure there is lots you can learn from her. It’s stupid. Your father is just being a pighead. Don’t listen to him.”

“I can’t do that,” I said. “If he found out, he’d disown me, too.”

“Just for that? I doubt it.”

“You don’t know my father. I told you, we can’t even mention her name.”

She stopped walking and leaned against the side of the building at the corner just below the boutique and looked thoughtful.

“Okay,” she said. “Then you have no choice but to keep spying on her and following her. How else will you learn anything about her? Someday she might move away from New York, and the chance for you ever to get to know her will be lost forever and ever.”

“I know.”

She was telling me something I thought often.

“She’s out of the shop,” Chastity announced with renewed excitement, and stepped forward. Roxy was headed our way.

“Let’s go,” I said, panicking. “She’s sure to see me standing here.”

“No, quick,” Chastity said, seizing my hand to pull me a little way down the side street. “You look the other way,” she ordered. “I’ll watch for her.”

I had no choice but to do what she said.

After a moment, she said, “Okay, she went by. C’mon,” she urged, taking my hand again.

I put up some resistance, but the truth was, I wanted to go and learn as much as I could about my forbidden sister.

After another block and a half, Roxy stopped at a restaurant. Less than a minute later, she and another young woman were led out to a table on the sidewalk. Again, I pulled back into a storefront entrance quickly. Chastity did the same.

“Do you know who she’s with?”

“How would I possibly know that, Chastity?” Was she just thick, or did she really believe I wasn’t telling her everything I knew?

“She’s very pretty, too. I bet she’s also an escort. Do you think she’s an escort, too?”

“I don’t know. I told you, you know as much about my sister now as I do.”

“Who else would she hang out with? She must be another escort. They’re probably comparing notes. I wonder if they work for the same service. How do you get into such a thing? How much money do they make?” She rattled off all her questions in one breath and then turned to me, expecting answers.

“Don’t you hear me? I don’t know any more about
any of this than you do, Chastity.” I was no longer hiding my annoyance with her.

She nodded, disappointed. From the way she was looking at my sister and her friend, I could see how much she longed to be as attractive as they were.

“I bet they have interesting lives,” she muttered. “Just as I said, I bet they even know celebrities and go to exotic places. Just think of it. Lots of movie stars don’t want to be followed and have their picture taken every time they go out. What’s better than an escort service? She must know lots of famous people.”

What a strange thing was happening, I thought. I didn’t bring Chastity along to get her to idolize my sister. I needed company. If anything, I had expected she would get bored and want to do something else. Now it looked as if I would have trouble getting her to leave. Before I could suggest that we do leave, someone else arrived at my sister’s table.

He was an elegant-looking man, probably about fifty, dressed in a dark blue velvet sports jacket and a blue tie. Even from where we were standing, we could clearly see that he was tan and handsome. A diamond pinkie ring caught the late-afternoon sun. Both my sister and her friend rose to greet him and be kissed on both cheeks.

“Is he French?” Chastity asked.

“How would I know?”

“Stop saying that,” she snapped.

“Well, how would I? I can’t hear him, can you?”

“But isn’t that the way French people kiss?”

“Lots of people do that now.”

He sat at their table, and the waitress arrived to take his order. They were all having coffee.

“I know. I bet he’s their boss or something, or maybe he’s tonight’s gentleman for one of them. Or . . .” Her eyes widened. “Or they’re both going to be with him. It’s a something
trois
.”

“Ménage à trois,”
I said.

She looked at me, excited, and nodded. “Yes, that’s it. They’re having a
ménage à trois
.” She squinted. “What exactly is that anyway? C’mon,” she urged.
“Don’t tell me you don’t know. You’re part French.”

I almost laughed. “You don’t have to be French to have a
ménage à trois,
Chastity. It’s just a French expression.”

“For what, exactly?”

“Why did you say it if you didn’t know what it was?”

“I know a little,” she said.

“It’s sex with three willing people. Men like two women; women like two men.”

“I mean . . . how do they do that? One watches?”

“That’s as much as I know,” I said firmly. “I think we should go soon. They could be there a long time.”

“Wait. I have an idea. Your sister doesn’t know me. I could walk by and maybe pick up a few words they’re saying.”

I started to shake my head.

“You just head down this street and around the block. I’ll meet you a block down and tell you what I heard.”

“Don’t let them think you’re listening in, Chastity,” I warned.

She hesitated. “You don’t think that guy’s dangerous or something, do you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe forget it.”

She considered and then shook her head. “No. I’ll do it. Go on,” she said, and headed to the corner to cross.

I watched her for a moment and then hurried down the side street. By the time I came around to head back to Madison Avenue, Chastity was waiting at the corner. She looked as if she would burst with excitement.

“What?”

“I was right. He was French. Your sister was speaking French to him, and English, and then they all laughed. I pretended I had something in my shoe so I could listen more, and I heard her say she had a full weekend. I wanted to stay longer, but I think the other woman was looking at me, so I walked away. You think that man was after her, wanted a date?”

I shook my head.

“Why not?” she asked petulantly. I knew she wanted to be the one to make discoveries, and she was the one who had eavesdropped on their conversation. Why would I disagree?

“It’s not the way an escort service works,” I said. I didn’t want to tell her, or anyone, for that matter, that I had read up on them. “Their schedules are kept, and the clients are screened. They don’t go out on dates.”

She looked angry now. “So you really do know more about your sister than you’re saying.”

“No. That’s just general stuff. I don’t know anything specific about her.”

“So I could be right,” she said, satisfied with herself. “Maybe that man is her favorite or something. Maybe he’s in love with her and wants her to be his and only his.” Her imagination was in a stampede. “He’s going to rescue her from this life and . . . and take her away. Maybe he has an estate in Europe or lives in an old castle or . . .”

“He looked a lot older, didn’t he?”

“So?”

“Men don’t usually fall in love with girls who sleep with other men for money,” I said.

That threw her for an instant, and then she brightened with another idea. “Maybe he doesn’t care. Maybe he’s so in love with her that he would forgive her for anything. Besides, he’s French.”

“First, he’s not necessarily French because he speaks French, Chastity. My father speaks French very well.”

“Well, I think he’s French.”

“And second, that’s a stereotype. Just because someone’s French, it doesn’t mean he or she has fewer morals.”

She shrugged. “My father thinks so, and he’s a lawyer.”

“Well, he’s wrong. Besides, what does that say about my mother?”

“I think he only meant French men.”

I looked at my watch. “I think I’d better head home,” I said. None of this was making me feel any better.

“When do you want to do this again? I think we should go there in the evening. I know how,” she added before I could object. “You get permission to stay over my house, and we can go up there whenever we want, stay late and everything. Okay? Maybe this weekend. I heard her say she had a full weekend. We’ll see something important.”

“I’ll see,” I said.

Suddenly, I felt terrible about this, and not only because I was doing what would surely disappoint my father. It was like some girl’s younger brother bringing a friend to spy on his older sister when she was getting undressed, taking a bath, or making love with her boyfriend. I hadn’t even spoken to Roxy for years, but suddenly, she was the one I was betraying. It was wrong of me to let someone like Chastity Morgan exploit my sister and use her for her lustful fantasies.

We started down the avenue.

“Why don’t you ask your father more about her and find out what she did, exactly? There had to be one big thing that broke the camel’s back, right?”

“My father won’t talk about Roxy and won’t even permit her name to be mentioned. I told you that. Why don’t you listen to what I tell you?”

“I wonder how he explains it to people who know.”

“People don’t know about what she does.”

“But you said that’s how you and your mother found out about her. Someone your father works with.”

“My father never told him she was his daughter.”

“Oh. Wow. That must really drive him crazy. Maybe someday, when you talk to your sister again, you can talk her out of doing what she’s doing.”