Selective/Memory: The "Depth of Emotion" Book 2 (The Depth of Emotion) (24 page)

Flying never excited Marisol, but first class had always made it more bearable. If she were unable to have Marchelle at her beck and call, the flight attendants would serve to cater to her needs. It was a necessity for her to have assistants at her disposal. She hadn’t attained the status of supermodel by allowing people to behave without showing her the proper respect. She craved and demanded it. Nothing less would suffice, nor would it be tolerated.

Marchelle always traveled wherever Marisol was seen in a location shoot. Most times, Marisol used Marchelle as a decoy to get coffee or run errands while she slept or bathed. They were almost identical, though Marisol believed she was the more beautiful of the two, but enough alike to fool the general public. She hadn’t allowed Marchelle to learn too much English, instead picking and choosing the words she could say should paparazzi get too close to her while on an errand. This was Marisol’s safety net. Marchelle could be used effectively as a semi-mute puppet.

She and her sister had always been close when they were little girls. They suffered at the hands of their father, who hated the two of them for being yet another financial burden, but Marisol, who was named Marianna after her father’s grandmother, refused to allow him to break her. He’d give her the harshest of spankings, and she’d refuse to utter a sound. Only her sister would see the unshed tears that filled her eyes. He then decided that the most effective way to break her arrogant spirit was to punish them both, as Marchelle was very timid and was usually Marianna’s playmate. He thought it would break them both, but that only sufficed to drive them closer.

The day that he decided to put both of their little hands to the blistering hot stove, scorching and burning the pads of their fingertips, Marchelle was never the same; but neither was Marianna. Marchelle cowered around him, hiding in corners. She was no longer a happy little girl and didn’t sing or play with her sister, choosing to stand behind her when Papi came near. This infuriated Marianna because he damaged something that didn’t belong to him—
it belonged to her
.

How dare he interfere with her playmate! He broke her and he would pay!

What he didn’t count on was Marianna’s patience. She nursed Marchelle’s charred fingers until the blisters healed, all the while looking after her own wounds. She told Marchelle that they were now the same, holding up her hand, showing that both were now missing fingerprints. She made certain that the two of them ate whatever was put before them, whenever they received it, to make them as strong as possible. Marianna kept a watchful eye on Papi, knowing where he was at all times.

One night, when all was quiet in the house, her father came home drunk—
very drunk
. He was completely intoxicated and passed out on the couch. She watched from her bedroom as he slept to make certain he wouldn’t wake. That was the night Marianna found a very good use for her pillow, and she was proud of the strength she had developed as she watched him struggle under her hands.

The next day, she told Marchelle she didn’t like the name Marianna anymore, and that it died along with Papi. She wanted to be called
Marisol.

When the opportunity presented itself for her to become a model in New York City, she took it. Soon after, she quietly brought Marchelle into the States to assist her with her needs. She told her that no one was to know that they weren’t one and the same, telling her that if anyone found out, they’d send her back and she’d never see Marisol again.

Marchelle did exactly as her sister told her. The hardest part was going out in public as Marisol. It had taken her a few times, but Marisol trained her to become an expert, expecting nothing less than perfection. Marchelle could walk directly into any crowd, head on, never faltering or disappointing Marisol in this regard.

Unfortunately, it was always necessary for them to travel separately to continue the charade. That was inconvenient for Marisol as she had trained her sister so well to serve her every need.

Marchelle had arrived in Hawaii the day prior to Marisol’s arrival. This assured that all arrangements had been made and executed, tasks that had been ordered had been completed, and Marisol’s comforts had been anticipated and catered to before her arrival.

The excitement of this trip for her was that she was looking forward to surprising Declan. She anticipated his reaction! In order to carry out her plan successfully, the element of shock could only enhance her degree of manipulation over him. He had become somewhat dependent on her as his recovery continued. He now believed that she had his best interest at heart, and she provided whatever words or deeds were necessary to reinforce that line of thinking on his part.

Currently, she was filling his head with many stories of the two of them attending parties and social events in New York with the more elite crowd. Never faltering in her efforts, she constantly twisted those tales to make each of her efforts appear to always be on his behalf or to be for his advantage. She always painted herself as someone who merely cared deeply for him and wanted to see him succeed.

Ha! He had become such a fool! Little does he know, all I truly care about is taking everything out from under him and leaving his incompetent ass out in the cold!

After all, hadn’t he done the same to her when he left her at the party in New York to go to the beach and meet up with Aria? She would never forgive him for that, but she
would
let him try to make it up to her.

Aria! Ugg! Just the thought of her ugly ass makes me cringe! I will never understand what attracted him to her. She looks like a dog!

She was confident that Aria was absolutely inferior to her in every way. There was never a thought in her mind that they could compete in any area. It was incomprehensible to her. Declan choosing Aria over her caused Marisol to seethe within and become drenched in rage—more than she had ever felt for her father.

Marchelle, innocently, once asked Marisol if the reason she was upset was because she was jealous of Aria. Once the beating was over, Marchelle knew never to ask again.

Hawaii would be the perfect ground to put her plan in motion. She was aware that the client would be having a party tonight at the end of the shoot; a “wrap party,” so to speak. Everyone would be there. She’d make a grand entrance, as she always did, assuring the client that she bore no ill will for his taking her off of this particular job and encouraging him to seek her services in the future. Her entrance would then serve its main purpose—to delight and surprise Declan, showing him her support. She could play the loving girlfriend role to further solidify the stories that she’d fabricated, telling him all about their wonderful relationship.

Yes, she would be GLORIOUS! Tonight would be a great night. One that Declan wouldn’t soon forget…

The shopping excursion proved to be a success. Paige was exhausted, but she was extremely happy with her purchases. Aria, too, felt she’d had a successful day. She bought several things with Jeannie in mind, knowing that her mother would love the light and airy fabrics to wear at home, in the summer months.

Having had the opportunity to explore on their own, the girls marveled as they discovered a few waterfalls amongst the lush flora and tropical greens. They simply loved the idea that you could just pull your car over on the road and sink your toes in the sand, just about anywhere on the island.

Aimee had arranged for lunch to be served to them when they arrived back at the suite. They weren’t used to such catering, but commented that it was something to which they could easily become accustomed, and that it was so nice to be pampered.

After lunch, the girls changed into their swimsuits and ventured out to the beach. The sun felt sinful as its warmth crept into muscles that were weary from all of their walking.

They could see decorations, tables, and chairs being set up for a party. It looked Hawaiian in theme, but both ladies took notice of the plush flowers and ornate bandstand.

“Looks like somebody’s going to have a nice party,” Paige commented.

“Hmm,” Aria contemplated. “Do you think that it could be for the party we’re going to tonight? I mean, Aimee did say it was going to be a Luau.”

“You’re right. It could be,” Paige answered. “That would be really fun! Especially with all those island guys…”

Aria finished applying lotion and lay back on the lounge chair.

“I’m up for a little fun,” she said. “How about you?”

Paige, still sitting up, nudged her arm. “I think the island guys are already noticing the mainland girls…”

Aria peeked out from under her hat and saw two, hot and buff, guys at the water’s edge that appeared to be looking in their direction.

“Looks like it might be a fun night!” she said with a smile, pulling her hat down over her eyes.

“Hey girls! Anybody here?” Aimee bounced through the doors of the suite.

She didn’t look as though she had been working all day. She seemed the definition of perfection, wearing designer swimwear, with absolutely perfect make-up and hair.

Paige was the first to come out of her bedroom.

“Hi, honey. How was your day?” she said as she approached Aimee.

Aimee made a sweeping motion with her hand, drawing attention to Paige’s outfit.

“Nice!” she said. “You’re looking hot! Is that something new from your shopping trip?”

Paige twirled in her dress. Her eyes were sparkling and her dimples were in full view along with her smile.

“I love it!” she said as she twirled. “It’s so pretty. I feel like I’m a tropical princess.”

Aimee nodded in agreement. “It looks good on you! You won’t be able to keep the local boys away tonight!” Aimee teased. “Where’s Aria?”

Paige pointed toward the bedroom. “Still primping.”

“Aria! Come out!” Aimee yelled, making Paige laugh.

Aria came out in her robe, puzzling both girls.

“Aren’t you going to get ready?” Aimee asked. “The party’s in an hour,” she said, looking at the clock.

Aria seemed edgy and pulled at the sleeves on the oversized robe.

“I’m not sure,” she said, hesitantly. “I don’t know if I’m really up for this.”

It was the first that they had seen Aria down since she’d arrived on vacation.

Aimee refused to take a negative response.

“Oh, yes you are!” she stated. “You didn’t come to one of the most beautiful places in the world so that you could miss out on a traditional luau. You’re going to have fun tonight—even if I have to make you!”

She gave her a look that Aria knew indicated that she meant business, and Paige stood with arms crossed to show her solidarity with Aimee.

Resigned to what she knew would be a losing battle, Aria gave them both an evil eye.

“You know, you’re pushy—both of you,” she accused.

Stomping her feet, she returned to the bedroom, resigning herself to have a night—fun or otherwise—with Aimee and Paige.

Returning forty-five minutes later, her appearance caused Aimee to be flabbergasted.