Page 5 of Perfect Order
When I whirl around to face my twin, it’s like staring into a mirror image. Christ, more so than ever since today we’re dressed more alike than we have been since we were kids. A pure coincidence. To protect ourselves against the elements of the warehouse I’m inspecting for purchase, we both donned black leather jackets and jeans. And while my jeans are a deep dark blue and hers are torn in enough places to make me question how they’re remaining on her legs, a stranger coming through the door would still believe they were seeing double. If it were to occur, my sister would merely smirk while I rolled my eyes—at least on the outside. After all, we’ve had twenty-three years of people guessing our identities incorrectly.
Then again, I’d just pray I’d be quick enough to slip out one of the concealed weapons I’ve taken to carrying so I’d be able to save Kylie. She’s the most important thing in my world.
“There are too many reasons to name,” I tell her.
“Try,” she urges.
We’re standing in a run-down office space that easily requires a quarter of a million to be dropped for the heavy cable I need to be laid, and that’s before the cosmetic repairs, let alone the secure spaces. In some ways, Kylie’s right. It would be so easy to saunter into some Manhattan high-rise with everything nice and perfect, sexy and sleek. All I’d have to do would be to drop a large chunk of my savings and rely on someone else to do the work.
And therein lies the problem. I live in a world where trust isn’t granted easily, if ever.
I step around the large hole the previous owners left in the floor and pick my way carefully to the window. Twisting to the side, I imagine where my desk would be placed and lean back just a bit. There in the distance is the view of Hadley Mountain the Realtor told me about. “Although this location has organic protection built into three sides, it’s a benefit overall. Some external offices, conference rooms, maybe a break room could have a view.” If I decide to purchase the space, by the time I’m done, over seventy-five percent of the space’s improvements will be unrecognizable to someone like Kylie. With the security integrity improvements I plan on installing, false ceilings and floors will be commonplace.
Then again, my sister won’t have the clearance to enter those areas. Only a select cadre of my employees ever will.
“Rocks, trees, and weeds, Leanne. What the hell is so appealing about that? And for Christ’s sake, did they just make saddles here, or were there actual horses stabled here?” She sniffs the air even as she scuffs her high-heeled boot on the office subfloor I can visualize being ripped out and replaced so easily with cabled wire bundled tightly beneath it.
I open my mouth and quickly snap it shut. Much like my twin was made for the new stardom she’s beginning to enjoy since she was first spotted singing at a nightclub in Manhattan, I was made for the shadows—those housed by the bits and bytes of the far reaches of the internet, to be exact.
My mother jokingly called the differences in our careers the first branches off the trunk of the Lee Tree. “It doesn’t mean you aren’t as close as ever, but you’re developing your own personalities,” she explained when my sister got in my face about why I wouldn’t waste a credit hour at MIT to take “A music theory course. Just one. I take computer science, Lee. Why can’t you do this for me?” she shouted.
Back then, I fought a war with myself to share with her what I was really doing, but I’d taken a vow. I couldn’t; I still can’t. Now without endangering us all.
She wanders up next to me. “The only thing I can say about it that’s a benefit is you’d be the same distance from me as the parents.”
“And I’d have better shopping,” I joke.
“That’s the truth.” Saratoga Springs is an adorable college town that sports some of the finest horse racing in the country, attracting a high-end clientele and some exclusive boutiques. “I personally don’t understand why people flock here…”
I interrupt her. “You might one day. There’s an incredible concert pavilion here.”
She stills. Uncertainty leaks into her voice, “Do you really think so?”
“Of course I do! Why this sudden doubt?” Kylie’s talent is being bandied about by some of the bigger names in music.
“Here you are buying a building—Christ, Leanne, a building—and I’m still hoping I can sell out theaters in New York.”
I grab her hand and squeeze hard. “I believe in you.”
“You have to; you’re a part of me. I bet it’s taking me longer because you used to suck down my oxygen in the womb,” she grumbles. But she still bumps my shoulder, showing her gratitude for my never-ending support.
“No, I believe in you because you’re doing this because you love it. Not for money, not for entitlement, but because you have to sing in a way most people need to do things like breathe. And get over yourself. I didn’t take your oxygen; you likely took mine for those pipes.” A grin lifts her lips, so I continue. “We might be two people—very different ones—but you’ll always complete me, Lee. You always have, always will. I’m not whole without you.” I remind her of the very simple reason we called each other by the same name for years—when and where it matters the most, we’ve been the same since person since we both cried to be free from our mother’s womb.
A second later, Kylie’s arms are wrapped around me. “You’re right.”
“I always am,” I remind her drolly.
She pinches me before admitting, “I got scared for a moment. It’s real. You’re not going to be nearby.”
I reassure her, “I’m just a phone call away.”
“I know. And no matter what, you’re right here.” She wedges her hand between us to press her fingers against her heart. Blowing out a gusty sigh, she declares, “I just have to persevere. I can do this.”
“You can. In fact, I’m so certain of it, I’ll make you this bet.”
“What’s that?”
“When you become some big-name star, I’ll do my best to keep the tabloids off your back.”
