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Chapter 3 - Sibling Rivalry

After breakfast, Brad left and Aimee went to her room leaving Karla the dishes. Of course, Karla wasn't happy about being stuck with cleanup duty. She would rationalize that Aimee owed her since Karla arranged to have someone take a peek at the car. However, Aimee didn't care and, even though she still planned on talking to Mitch Greenway about the car, she was going to insist on paying full price. She wanted no special treatment based on how well her sister fucked one of his friends. Aimee would not be the reason Karla whored herself out.

It had always been that way, it seemed. Karla could always worm something out of any man she met. It started in middle school when the seconds-younger Harper sibling realized that, with a shake of her ass and a low cut blouse, she never had to write her own papers ever again. Of course, as she moved into high school, it cost her more to get what she wanted. A hand job. Oral sex. However, the gifts were more expensive and her men older. High school boys didn't have as much as college men. Her body was her asset and she used it to manipulate people any way she wanted. While Karla fucked her way to graduation, Aimee busted her ass to earn everything she received. Karla quit college, not even finishing her Associates Degree, and bounced from job to job. Aimee, determined to make something of herself, escaped to Gainesville, attending the University of Florida. It turned out to be the change she needed in her life.

Grabbing a stack of her prints to sort through, she flipped on her stereo and stepped out onto her balcony. The morning was bright and cheerful with a warm breeze carrying the scent of the ocean to where she sat. She loved living on the beach. It was the main reason she chose Sea Breeze Condominiums. The fact that the condo was equipped with a balcony that stretched along the living room as well as her bedroom was an added bonus. Karla offered to pay more on her rent if she could have the back room, but Aimee wasn't having it. It was her condo. Karla could have the room closest to the bathroom. It would help with her morning ritual when her boyfriends spent the night. The beach view was Aimee's. She had to admit, the beach had a soothing effect on her. It calmed her just to sit and watch the waves roll in, redecorating the shell-covered shore. She loved the beach. It was the ocean she didn't care for, too many unknowns slinking around her ankles that she couldn't see. She saw Jaws. Teeth, sharp teeth, lingered under those whitecaps. She'd stay on shore where it was safe. Safe was good. Very good.

As a pelican nose-dived into a cresting wave, Aimee began to thumb through her photographs of the sunrise. The manager at Duffy's Steak House was expecting her to drop off two of her prints for his walls that week. She wasn't sure if she wanted to use two sunsets or toss in one of her osprey photographs. It might be good to mix it up a little. Give the people a selection. Of course, the sunsets weren't the same, so there were choices there, as well. What are you going to do, Aimee?

She started taking photographs in high school, even joined the photography club and all that. One of her teachers made her enter some contests and, to her surprise, she even won a few. In college, while she studied for her Computer Criminology Degree, she sold a few photos to magazines and even participated in a couple of art fairs. Those she really enjoyed, because it put her in front of real people. Maybe I should do a few more of those.

Aimee's cell phone trilled and a quick glance at the caller ID showed it was their mother. Aimee gave a quiet groan before answering. "Hello, Mom."

"Good morning, baby doll. I'm surprised you're up so early."

"You called hoping to wake me up?"

"Well, no, but it's Sunday, and I assumed you would be out hitting the town with your sister last night. I know how you both enjoy your Saturday night dancing."

"Karla enjoys dancing, Mother. I enjoy sleeping at a regular hour." Her mother didn't need to know that her daughter just didn't have a date. "Why do you keep forgetting that I'm not like my sister? Besides, I'm trying to select some prints to hang in that steak house that opens next week. They've agreed to display some of my pieces to sell." Aimee doubted her mother ever forgot the twins were only alike in appearance. It was more like her mother hoped Aimee would somehow get a life. What Karla had, however, was not a life. It was a STD waiting to happen. "Why are you calling, Mom?"

"I wanted to invite the two of you to dinner tomorrow night. I was thinking of buying a roast and it's just too much for me to eat alone. I don't want it to go to waste."

Aimee closed her eyes. She loved her mother, but she dreaded family meals. Mainly because Karla manipulated her mother as much as she did everyone else, and Betty Harper refused to see what was being done to her. When their father was alive, he was able to keep Karla from taking advantage. He was the firm one with a strong work ethic. People needed to earn what they received and not be given free handouts. He believed a person appreciated what they earned more than what they were given. Of course, Karla would argue that she did earn what she received, but she couldn't exactly tell their father how she earned it. Not and remain alive, that is. Now, however, it was almost as if Karla made up for lost opportunities. It was nauseating to watch.

"Have you already asked Karla?" The deciding factor.

"Yes, and she said it sounded like a great idea. Now, how about you?"

Trapped. If she was going to protect her mother from some pitiful ploy of Karla's, she would have to go. She shouldn't have to babysit her sister or protect her mother. She forced a smile into her voice. "I'll be there. What time?"

The weekend was turning out to be a real waste of time, and she was tired of being cooped up in her condo. She needed a break. With hopes of salvaging some peace and quiet, Aimee slipped into her bathing suit, a two-piece that didn't really compliment what she saw as flaws to her body, pulled her hair back in a tight ponytail, and headed for the condo's pool. Perhaps frying her flesh under the sun's ultraviolet rays would melt some of the negativity out of her. If that didn't work, there was always that bottle of tequila above the fridge.

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