Bea

"Something has to be done about her." I frown at the newspaper in front of me. There’s a great big headline that reads "Welcome Governor Barcus!" followed by a picture of Kat falling in front of a slack-jawed reporter.

The jacket and fall has hiked her skirt up, revealing:

Tiny black lace panties.

She’s like some bimbo 50s pin-up model that just can’t stop being sexy in every photo she takes. When you’re sixteen, you envy her, but when you turn 18, you realize how awkward it is to shop for groceries or pump gas in spiked heels. Real world situations don’t apply. I once had to cut Kat out of Christmas pictures to our grandma. How about we don’t show Grandma your side boob, okay Kat? I shake my head in disgust.

I can see how the photo made the front page. It’s enough skin to get anyone to stop and look. How did she get such long legs? It’s not even fair. Mom’s short, Dad’s barely 5’ 8". But Kat somehow grew into a six-footer, always tripping on those stilt legs. Now stumbling into reporters.

I flip the newspaper over, showing Daddy’s smiling face on the other picture. Much better.

"For the most part, it was a success." Charles says to me over toast and coffee. "You can’t let Katrina spoil our victory." Charles is Daddy’s PR go to guy. 50’s, athletic, a closet of Armani. Takes better care of his nails than I do, and I get them done every week. He knows the value of presentation and I admire him for it.

We look good together. Charles first spotted me visiting Daddy at one of his rallies, offered me a ride home in his town car. Poured me champagne as we drove through the silent, rain-slicked wet streets to my apartment on the east side as I took in his suit, watch, shoes, the soft leather interior hugging my body, the champagne going to my head, I was in awe. 

Then he said, "You are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen in my life, you belong on display, on stage, for the world to view and revere at all times." I pounced on him. Crawled on top of him in the backseat of that car, unzipping that $5,000 dollar suit and he put his hand on mine to stop me. I felt foolish as the blood throbbed in my skin, rearing to go despite his command.

Then he grabbed for a prescription bottle in his breast pocket. Popped one and downed it with champagne. "Never be embarrassed, dear," he said, pouring me some more champagne, "you’re just ahead of schedule." 30 minutes later we were back at his place and he bent me over a black coffee colored Essex sofa.

I kept my place for Daddy’s sake during the election, but now, now that Daddy’s in office, it’s our time at last. Charles can reveal our relationship and he can begin his own foray into politics as we planned. Me at his side. On stage forever.

But Kat has to make the Barcus family look bad. She’s ruining everything already! I push the newspaper across the redwood table to Charles and put on my sweetest of smiles. "Really, we must do something about her. She could ruin Daddy’s years in office with the right mistake. And then where will you and I be?"

Charles smiles, kisses the top of my head. "I’ve seen far worse than Katrina. She’s just a run of the mill malcontent without purpose.”

"No, she’s a slut." I pout. "Do you know how many hook-ups she has in her phone? How many dick pics?"

Charles falters a little, my abrasive language startles him as he puts another spoonful of sugar into his coffee. "Really, Beatrice, I know that type of language is popular, but it makes you and Katrina sound equally crass."

I redden. "I’m sorry, dear. I’m just so embarrassed. And afraid for us."

Charles stirs his coffee thoughtfully. "We’ll just have to let sleeping dogs lie. Reacting to one picture will draw attention, not remove it."

The doorbell rings. I cover my nightie in a robe as the staff leads Charles’ assistant to our breakfast table. Tall and gangly, Lucas stumbles in, unsure of how to apologize for seeing us having breakfast.

There’s something about the way Lucas looks at me that unsettles. It’s like there’s some secret he knows that I don’t but he’s too shy and simply just keep sneaking a few glances at me from time to time in hopes that I might magically know the secret. He sheepishly hands Charles another paper, the Tribune.

I look at the newspaper that he’s brought although it’s in Charles’s hands, it’s not hard for me to see Kat’s face and the plump cleavage resting right below: "Governor Barcus’s First Wild Child." Actually, that’s rather kind.

"I’m so sorry to interrupt breakfast," Lucas mumbles, but that would have been more appropriate when he actually entered and interrupted. "But I thought you needed to see this. There are some online articles, too."

Charles scrutinizes the paper and passes it to me. It’s a follow-up article from one Nicholas Wright, “My Night with Katrina Barcus.” I snicker a little, it says here that Kat is waiting on her acceptance letter to law school and is whiling her time partying for now. How presumptuous of him! I don’t know how he got that photo of me holding up the “Future Lawyer” sign, but it hardly counts as evidence. Kat was a pre-law graduate, but for some reason lost all interest in actually going to law school several years ago. $300,000 wasted.

The further I read, however, my blood runs cold. Wright describes her apartment “Like a messy kindergarten classroom” and says she’s “Rather forward, if not forceful in her desires.”

I drop the paper. “You got to be kidding me. Did Kat let a reporter in her apartment? Is she an idiot?” I hand the paper to Charles, waiting for him to confirm my rage. “She’s ruined Daddy in just a day.”

Charles takes in the paper and skims the article. Shakes his head. “I’ll get Kensing on the phone and we’ll deal with this. We’ll schedule a counter article with you-you’ll need to refute these claims about your sister, of course…”

“How can I? They’re all true.” I stab a slice of cantaloupe for emphasis.

“What Charles is saying, if I may,” Lucas juts in, “is that you’ll need to have a glowing review of your sister to help make it look like he’s reaching. That he’s making it up. It just has to look that way.”

“So I have to talk about how great Kat is. She goes and does who knows what with a reporter and I have to commend her for it?” I drop my fork. “I’m not hungry.”

“Don’t be childish, Beatrice, eat.” Charles scolds. And I do. Because one of us sisters should not be childish.

"Charles," I beckon with my sweet honeyed voice, "Surely Kat is not the first hang-up of its kind in the politician’s life. As an executive PR manager at Hawthorne and Pleats, there must have been a few techniques developed? And, I’m sure you’re the man who developed them."

Charles puffs his chest a little and folds the newspaper down in front of him, "Beatrice, honey, there are a few techniques, but I certainly was hoping that it wouldn’t have to come to this."

He puts a hand on mine, rubs it with his thumb. "We can sit Kat down and explain the situation to her. She probably doesn’t even realize the detriment she might be causing."

I sighed. "I’ve told her. I’ve told her long before Daddy started the campaign. She just nods her head and--"

"--Then we send Katrina abroad, get her out of the country and away from the press. I have a few friends with vacation homes abroad. How do you feel about Spain?"

I snorted. "So she can shack up with some Spanish dudes for a year, then come back and it’s the same. It’s just a band-aid. I want to just shake her so hard until she gets it through her thick skin.”

"Then, we have your dad disown her."

Tears well up in my eyes even before Charles completes the sentence. I think deep down I knew that this potentially was the solution. It’s a strategic tourniquet and we are bleeding out. But, disowning Kat would be so hard. After losing Mom, our family felt so small and vulnerable. Though Kat is a fuck-up, she’s my family and I wanted to have a family.

Charles pats my hand as the tears well in the corners of my eyes. "There there, my sweet, often the idea is difficult at first, but imagine going forward in life without worrying about your sister. In a way this is inevitable. We will have our own campaign trail soon and ties to her will render things more complicated. And it certainly doesn’t need to be."

“I’m not sure I can!" I blurt out.

"This was always a part of the plan and I think deep down you know it. We can’t let someone who doesn’t know how to play the game into our inner circle."

I nod. The inner circle is something Charles is extremely clear about. He owes all of his success to who is in the circle. And who is not. Who we keep closest to us reflects who we are and what we aspire to be.

There is no room for losers. It is a cold unsentimental circle that we must lay around us. Charles has had practice for decades. I have not and my insides burn at the thought of losing another person in my life. But he’s right, I have to. I look hopelessly at Lucas for something, anything besides this.

Instead, he’s just giving me that weird look. Thanks, Lucas.

But it has come to this, hasn’t it? I lower my head in acceptance.

"There might be one thing we can try," Lucas pipes up. Late as always. Charles bristles. Charles doesn’t like to be contradicted and rarely is because he’s often right, but how could I not hear Lucas out if there’s another way? If I can keep my sister, then it’s something I have to try.

"Go ahead," I beckon Lucas. Lucas looks to Charles and waits for his approval first. Despite an internal argument inside Charles, he gives Lucas a small nod to go on.

"We hire Kat a boyfriend," Lucas sputters out.

I laugh. I laugh so hard that coffee starts to come out of my nose. Charles passes me a napkin with the glare. "Really? Lucas, thank you for the idea, however, Kat doesn’t have any trouble getting men."

"I know a guy," Lucas begins, uncertain of how to phrase himself, "he’s recently single and he has some unusual relationship quirks that perhaps, Kat may respond to."

"Quirks? I hardly think Kat will succumb to party tricks..."

"No, no, it’s not like that it’s... hard to phrase... I don’t want to offend anyone," He glances nervously to me. "He’s into BDSM."

Charles stands up from the table, hackles raised. "Surely you have been trained better than to come in here and suggest such outlandish options. How about you see yourself out?”

My head spins. "Wait what is BDSM?"

"My dear," Charles hisses, "it is not something you should spend time thinking about. It is something perverts do in dark alleys."

"That might just be perfect for Kat then. What is it?"

Lucas looks at Charles before daring to utter a word. Charles sighs and allows him to continue.

"It could mean a lot of things," Lucas says, "people think of whips and leather, tying people up and spanking them. My friend who’s into it, he’s into that stuff but he says his favorite thing to do is to train women.

I snort. "Train women? To do what?"

"Whatever he wants to train them to do. I know it might sound outlandish but I’ve seen it. He had a girlfriend when we were in college that always told the longest most boring stories and used to get really drunk and cry in the dormitory bathroom. She was a mess, but for some reason he started dating her and the changes started overnight. She started dressing better, she behaved. She ended up marrying a wealthy lawyer two years out of school, one of the richest firms in town. I met her at a reunion a few years ago and she told me that my friend changed her life. That, yes, he had been into some kinky shit, pardon my French, but he taught her how to be a lady.”

I want to know what kind of kinky shit Lucas is talking about. Whips and chains and spanking were things that good girls like me only read about in whodunit mysteries when the detective brings up deviant behavior.

"Well," I clear my throat, "I would be happy to see my sister reformed, but throwing her to the mercy of some depraved man seems quite cruel."

"I can vouch for him. Peter has been one of the truest friends to me and is the nicest man I’ve met."

"How can that be if he’s whipping his girlfriends, how nice can he be?

"I can assure you that the women he was with consented and were excited about the things he did."

I try to imagine for a moment allowing a spanking. Imagining my backside stinging with a hard smack. And, something deep inside of me twitched. I sit up a little bit straighter. It’s hard to tell if I’m pursuing this discussion further for Kat’s sake or my own.

"Really now, "Charles begins, "I think we’ve entertained this enough and I’m sure you get the picture, Beatrice." Charles nods to Lucas to put a kibosh on the idea. He always knows when I’m onto something, and when it’s not for my own good.

"Right," Lucas stops and studders, trying to change direction. "Come to think about it, he’s probably not a really good choice at the moment. He just caught his wife cheating on him and has no patience for unfaithful women. I just know the divorce has been expensive and I thought maybe..."

"I would like to meet your friend." The words burst out of me and I don’t even acknowledge Charles’ scolding look.

Next Chapter: The Release of Carolina - Pete