The Bad Twin (11 page)

“Baby. I got your baby. Move.  I’m out of here.”

“No. You’re too upset to drive.”

“Now you want to be concerned.  You are dismissed. I’ll send my assistant over to get my things tomorrow.”

Lance still standing in only his boxers blocked the doorway, attempting to stop her from leaving the room.

Rose shouted, “I suggest you move out of the way or else they will be surgically removing my foot from your behind.”

Lance moved, but continued to beg. “Baby I’m sorry.

What can I do to make it up to you?”
Rose stormed out of the room without saying another word. She attempted to slam the front door, but Lance grabbed it. She jumped in her Porsche without a second look back at Lance. As she drove out of his subdivision, she saw the brunette walking. She pulled over and yelled, “Get in.”

The brunette kept walking as if she was afraid Rose was going to do something else to her.

“Get in. I’m not going to hurt you. I hate trifling men. He should have at least dropped you off somewhere.”

The brunette got in and gave Rose an address.  Rose dropped the top down on her convertible and let the wind blow through her hair and she drove through the valley. She dropped the brunette off at a place in a neighborhood Rose wouldn’t normally visit. When the brunette got out, she said, “Thanks. What do I owe you?”

“You don’t owe me anything. Just stay out of trouble. Just because a man has money doesn’t mean he’s going to treat you like a lady. Stay away from flashy men.”

Rose drove off with no particular destination in mind.

VIOLET

“How much longer do I have, before getting out from under this dryer?” Violet asked.

Gina, Violet’s hair stylist, shouted, “You only have fifteen more minutes.”

While under the dryer, Violet thought about the events of the past few months. Her relationship with Rose was better. Not perfect, but better.  She remembered the album release party she attended. The cameras wouldn’t stop flashing. She didn’t see how her sister could be in the limelight all of the time. She wanted to leave the party early, but since she promised her she would be there, she stayed and endured the flashing cameras.  She had to hand it to Rose; she played her role well with the media and with Lance. Although Rose didn’t talk about it, she knew from talking with Janice that Lance was caught cheating. A part of her, felt as if it was justifiable payback, but another part of her, felt sorry for Rose.  Janice and her were amazed at some of the things Lance tried to do to win back Rose’s affection.  Violet still couldn’t believe he took out a full page ad in one of the entertainment newspapers confessing his love for her. Rose treated him like trash, but he kept going back for more abuse.
I guess he still hadn’t figured out that there’s no pain deeper, than the pain of a woman scorned.

***

Violet looked down at her hand. Marcus was always buying her something, whether it was the matching wrist and ankle tennis bracelet she was now wearing or clothes. He had bought her five watches. She was currently wearing a black Movado that matched her black pants suit.  She admired her birthstone ring he had specially made. It was a diamond cut gemstone with two-karat diamonds surrounding it, the design was unique and no matter which way her hand moved, the sparkle from the diamonds were brilliant.

She was not materialistic, but it felt good to be spoiled. She started to trust men again. The only problem she had with dating Marcus were the groupies who seemed to be everywhere.  Sometimes she and Marcus would be out, and some bold groupie, would literally push her out of the way, to get to him.  She informed Marcus the first time it happened that she was not going to fight for his attention. She also told him he needed to handle those types of situations, because she was not going to be disrespected.

“Okay. Ms. Violet, you can come out now,” Gina stated.

Violet was still day dreaming when Gina tapped her on the shoulder. “I’m sorry. My mind was a thousand miles away.”

“I’m sure it was with that fine boyfriend of yours.”

Violet laughed. As she paid Gina, she turned around to walk away and ran right into the petite woman she had seen with David at the center’s last charity function. “Excuse me.”

She looked at Violet up and down before responding. “You’re excused. Just watch yourself next time.”

Violet not one for confrontation walked away. She knew if she stayed, she would have slapped her.  She heard her tell Gina, “I didn’t know you did her hair. She’s my man’s ex. I can’t stand her, because she’s all he talks about.”

Gina responded, “Really now. Well that’s between you two. I’m here to do your hair.”  Violet plastered a smile on her face and continued on out of the door. The sun was shining bright. She had taken an extended lunch, so she headed back to the community center.

She passed Janice on the way in. “Slow down.”

Janice slowed her pace. “Oh sorry. I’m running late for a meeting with the realtor.”

“Well, the realtor will wait, trust me. They want their commission.”

Janice laughed and continued on to her destination.

Violet checked her messages; the first call she returned was to Rose.

Rose sounded as if she was inside of a tunnel when she answered. “Have you changed your mind about going with me to Mexico?”

“I can barely make out what you’re saying. Can you repeat that?” Violet asked.

Rose repeated what she said. “Is this better?”

“Yes. I can hear you now. No. I have tried to clear my schedule, but I forgot I had given several people the time off on both of those days and Janice is one of them; otherwise I would be able to go.”

Rose sounded disappointed. “Maybe next time. Do you want to meet me later? I need to buy a couple of bathing suits, so if you’re not busy, I can just swing by there and pick you up.”

Violet thought about it, but she didn’t like Rose coming up to the center too much, because it always caused a commotion. The teenagers would hound her for weeks after her visit, hoping for autographs or pictures.  She had to threaten some of the over-active teens with clean-up duty, in order for them to stop bothering her about Rose. “I have a better idea. I’ll meet you at your house and we can leave from there.”

“Cool. See you later.”

Violet pulled up to Rose’s house a quarter past six. Instead of going in, she called her from her cell phone and Rose met her outside. “I can drive if you like,” Rose said.

“That’s okay. I still remember when you first learned how to drive.”

“Now Rose, I know you don’t want to go there. You’re the one who hit the parked car.”

They got in Violet’s car both cracking jokes on the other’s driving. Rose said, “At least I didn’t park my car on a hill and hit the police car coming up the hill.”

“Oh I almost forgot about that one,” Violet commented.

The radio was blasting and one of Rose’s songs came on. Violet sat there and listened to the words. It was a beautiful ballad and she was surprised to find out the voice behind the song was her own sister. “That is one of my favorite songs on your CD.”

“Really. Mine too. When we were in the studio, I got so into the song, they just left me alone and let me ad-lib. The original words were fine, but the part you hear in the end, I wrote it.”

Violet reached over and squeezed her hand. “You are very talented and I’m proud of you.”

Rose smiled as if overjoyed. “Thanks. It means a lot to me.”

They went from store to store. They shopped until the Galleria closed.

Once back at Rose’s place, Violet helped carry her bags in. Before leaving she hugged Rose. “Have fun.”

“I plan on it,” Rose responded.

ROSE

Rose stood on her hotel balcony. She held both hands up in the air, leaned her head back, and yelled, “The world is mine.”

***

Look at this view. It’s even more beautiful than my oceanfront view back in California. I‘m so glad to get away.  No media, no telephones; just the ocean and me. I wish I could have talked Violet into coming along, but oh well. I have a couple of novels with me and I plan on reading both of them while lounging on the beach. Now where did I put my shades?

***

She was staying in an exclusive resort hotel which catered to the rich and famous. The staff was at her beck and call.  The hotel had a private beach area, and Rose was determined to take full advantage of it all.  She lounged on the beach enjoying the view and the sounds of the ocean waves. While she sipped on her third margarita, she saw a couple walking in the sand and holding hands. She pulled her shades back down over her eyes and leaned back in her chair. She returned her attention back to her novel
The Family Curse
written by New Orleans native Magdalene Breaux.  Feeling relaxed, she dozed off and when she woke up, she was unaware of how long she had been sleeping. It didn’t matter to her, because she was at peace.

Rose took a bubble bath in the hot tub which was located in her huge luxury bathroom. The hotel staff provided her with a couple of mood music CDs.  After changing into a short white skirt and red halter-top, she left her room and went to the hotel’s restaurant for dinner.  While she waited on her dinner, she decided that she’d spend a night out on the town dancing.

***

Now whom do we have here? Everybody in Hollywood must have decided to take a trip to Mexico this week. I hope he doesn’t see me and just walks on by.  Scott Bankhead is the producer with octopus hands. I’ve had to fight him off of me on many occasions. It got so bad; I told Carmen if he was the producer attached to any script, I wouldn’t do the film. I see Scott has his showpiece of the week. I need to warn her that no matter how much she puts out, he will only do the bare minimum. She’ll be lucky if she gets to be an extra in his movie.  Rumor mill also has it that he’s really not a good lay anyway. Oh no. Here he comes. The woman he’s with. I’ve seen her type before. They will smile in your face but will stab you in the back. Everybody wants to be like me, but can’t.

***

“Rose darling, you’re looking exquisite as usual,” Scott states.

“Thank you and you’re looking. Well you’re you.”

“Oh this is Tiffany. Tiffany, Rose Purdue.”

Tiffany held her hand out and Rose stared at her and spoke without once lifting her hand. “Hi Tiffany.”

Tiffany pulled her hand back embarrassed. “Hi. Nice to meet you.”

Rose with her nose turned up in the air. “Likewise. Well if you two don’t mind. I would like to finish eating my dinner before it gets cold.”  

She went back to eating her food and Scott and Tiffany moved on to their table.

Rose signaled for the waiter because she wanted a refill on her drink. She needed a little liquor before she left to go get her groove on. She had lost count of the amount of margaritas she had drunk in one day.  After she left the restaurant, she took a cab to the club located on the other side of the strip.  When they got to the club, the driver asked for American dollars, but Rose ignored him and reached into her purse for some pesos.

He said, “Ésa es 250 Pesos” or “That will be 250 Pesos.”

She paid the cab driver the correct amount in pesos. He tried to cheat her and he was shocked to hear her speak fluent Spanish, as she yelled out at him in his native tongue and in English the correct amount of pesos, “Aquí están 150 Pesos.  Here is 150 Pesos. ”

He decided not to argue with her, took it, and sped off.

When Rose walked up to the door, all eyes were on her.   Noticing that she was the center of attention, Rose strutted through the door in her five-inch red high-heel shoes that accented her long shapely legs.  She didn’t have the legs of Tina, but she sure could give her a run for her money. She paid the entry fee and started walking and dancing to the beat. She walked around the club to get a feel for which floor she wanted to spend the majority of her time on. She loved all types of music. She chose the rhythm and blues room. For the moment, no one realized that she was the actual singer of the fast song that the DJ was spinning. She got herself a drink and stood at the bar. She tapped her feet to the beat of the music.  Across the bar, she locked eyes, with a handsome olive complexion Spanish gentleman.

He walked over to her side of the bar and asked her to dance.

“La Srta,  puede yo tener esta danza?
Senorita may I have this dance?”

“Si, Yes,  Senor.”

The handsome Spanish gentleman was a very good dancer. Rose was having a great time.  She danced; she drank, and danced some more. He offered to take her to her room, but she declined. Instead she asked him to get her a cab. “Por favor consígame un taxi.”

He hailed the cab and opened the door.  “Su taxi la espera. Your cab awaits you.”

She thanked him. “Gracias.”