"I recognized him when I first came in."
"He's very special," Susannah said. "Difficult, but special."
There was a burst of laughter, and someone began playing the Brady Bunch theme song over the loudspeaker. Quickly, Paige drained her wineglass. She couldn't handle this any longer.
"Sorry I can't stay, Susannah, but I've got to get back to Falcon Hill and count all the money Daddy left me."
Susannah flinched, but she didn't give up. "Let me show you around first."
"Don't take this the wrong way," Paige sneered, "but a company tour isn't exactly my idea of a good time."
Her sister stubbornly stayed by her side as Paige headed for the door. "Then let's get out of here," Susannah said, following her outside. "Come on. We'll go for a drive."
"Forget it."
"Afraid I'll eat you up?"
Paige came to a halt in the middle of the sidewalk. "I'm not afraid of you."
"Prove it." Susannah caught her arm and began steering her toward a late model BMW parked close to the building. "We'll take a drive, and I'll show you my house."
Paige jerked her arm away. "I don't want to see your house. I don't want to have anything to do with you."
Susannah stopped at the side of the car. The lights in the parking lot reflected off the hoops swinging at her ears and sent golden lights shimmering through her deep auburn hair. Susannah's new prettiness felt like another wound to Paige.
"You are afraid of me. aren't you, Paige?"
Paige gave a hollow laugh. "What is this? A grown-up version of I-dare-you? That was always my game, not yours."
Susannah opened the door on the driver's side and nodded toward the interior. "It's a good game. If you're not chicken, get in."
Paige knew that she didn't have to give in to Susannah's childish taunts, but she hated the smug look on her sister's face. The night stretched ahead like a hundred years, and she told herself that anything was better than going home alone to Falcon Hill. Shrugging indifferently, she got in. "Why not? I guess I don't have anything better to do at the moment."
Susannah carefully concealed her satisfaction as she pulled out of the parking lot. The more trouble she had with Sam, the more important it became to her to establish some sort of connection with her sister. Paige was her only blood relative, and surely they were both old enough by now to find new ground for a relationship. As she pulled out of the industrial complex onto the highway, she kept the conversation light. Paige answered in monosyllables or not at all. Some of Susannah's satisfaction began to fade. Paige's hostility seemed to be growing stronger instead of easing.
They left the highway and drove up into the hills. After several miles, Susannah turned into the drive that led to her house. A thick wall of shrubbery offered privacy from the road. Ahead of her the roof line rose in forbidding angles against the sky, and once again she realized how much she detested the harsh chill of this house. It was a cold temple dedicated to the worship of high technology, designed by a man who had always been obsessed with having the best.
"Cozy," Paige said sarcastically.
"Sam designed it."
"Didn't your big bad husband let you have any opinions?"
Susannah tried not to jump at the bait. "Houses aren't important to me."
Paige's evening gown rustled as she got out of the car. Instead of walking toward the pair of bronze doors that marked the entryway, she took the lighted path that led to the back of the house. Susannah followed, feeling increasingly uneasy. The beads on Paige's gown glittered like ice chips. Everything about her radiated hostility, from the stiff line of her neck to the harsh rhythm of her stride.
They cleared the side of the house and were met with the breathtaking view of the Valley. Paige stalked up the granite steps onto the bottom level of the deck and stared out at the lights. "I'll bet you're really proud of yourself, aren't you, Susannah?"
There was an ugly sneer in Paige's voice that made Susannah want to turn away. This had been a terrible idea. Why had she ever thought she could change the path of their relationship? "I've worked hard," she replied, trying to keep her tone neutral.
"I'll just bet you have," Paige spat out. "How much of that work did you do on your back?"
Susannah was stunned into silence by her sister's maliciousness.
"Now you can spend your days and nights counting your new money and laughing at Daddy in his grave."
All of Susannah's determination to renew their relationship disappeared, replaced by her own rage. "Don't say that. You know it's not true."
"It's true, all right," Paige retorted. "You showed him, didn't you? Too bad he's not still alive so you can throw your success in his face."
"I didn't do this because of him. I did it for myself."
"You're so goddamned sanctimonious. So smug and self-righteous." Paige spoke with deadly quiet, but her words struck Susannah like small bursts of venom.
She gripped the keys she still held in her hand. "Stop right there, Paige. You're acting like a child, and I've heard enough from you."
But Paige didn't want to stop. The poison stored inside her bubbled to the surface and burst forth in short, caustic spurts. "You've always been perfect. Always right. So much better than everyone else."
"That's enough! I've tried for years to establish some sort of adult relationship with you, but I'm not going to try any longer. You're spoiled and selfish, and you don't care about anyone but yourself."
"How would you know?" Paige shouted. "You don't know anything about me. You were too busy stealing my father to ever try to understand me."
"Get out of here!" Susannah threw the keys at Paige. "Take my car and get out of my sight." Turning her back on her sister, she walked rapidly toward the door on the far side of the deck.
But Paige wasn't finished. Propelled by years of self-loathing, she came after her, running almost, ready to pummel Susannah with more hatred. Susannah couldn't bear anymore. She shoved the door open.
"Do you have any idea how much I've always hated you?" Paige shouted, rushing into the house behind her. "I'm his real daughter! Not you. But I couldn't compete with your perfection act. Do you understand that a day doesn't go by when I don't wish that you'd never been born."
Susannah stalked through the back hallway and down the steps. Paige was still at her side when she dashed into the living room.
"Why did you have to come live with us?" Paige cried. "Why did you have to be so much better than me?"
Susannah gasped and then the gasp turned into a soft, kittenlike mew.
On a white suede couch in the center of the room, Mindy Bradshaw was jerking her skirt down over her naked thighs, while Sam fumbled awkwardly with his trousers.
Susannah mewed again. She could feel her hands opening and closing at her sides. The world reduced itself to the scene before her and the awful mew of pain that kept rising from her throat. And then her lips began to move, to form words. They came out tinny, like the computerized voice of i robot.
"Excuse me," she said.
The apology was idiotic, obscene. Susannah staggered blindly out of the room. She knew her legs were working because the walls were moving past her. She walked up one ramp and down another, past the massive mantelpiece of stainless steel. After every four or five steps, that awful sound kept sliding out. She tried to stop it, tried to clamp tier lips together, but it wouldn't be contained.
Someone touched her elbow. For a moment she thought it was Sam and tried to shake him off. Her arm was clasped more firmly, and she realized that Paige was at her side.
It was easier to concentrate on her sister than on the abscenity she had just witnessed. The lesser pain of Paige's hatred seemed almost a safe harbor in comparison to the starkness of Sam's betrayal.