By the time she went back into the dining room, the other brothers were having breakfast, and Arlene said a pleasant good morning to Ron and Erick, and then let the two blonde men go back to reading their newspapers. She went into the kitchen where the cook gave her a cup of coffee, and then she carried it to the living room, where she sat down on a comfortable leather sofa to drink it. Looking around her at the quiet luxury of the room, Arlene could not get over the fact that this big house was not only to be her home for the next few months, but that she herself was completely in charge of running it.
She felt very, very capable as she sat beneath Jenson Cassidy's oil portrait. And she felt that the old man who had been the Cassidy brothers' father, was looking down at her with approval. She could not help thinking how much more suited she was to the job of taking charge of things and making them run smoothly than her younger cousin, Sylvie, even though Arlene had only started that very morning on her new job.
Ron and Erick's voice drifted in from the dining room, but the attractive brunette could not hear what they were saying. She visualized Sylvie upstairs sleeping soundly, no doubt feeling delicious traces of sensuality from her previous night's love-making with her husband, Tim. Resentfully, Arlene was aware of a slight tingling in her sleekly tapered thighs, there toward the high inner center where they touched together. But, feeling suddenly ashamed, she brushed her thoughts and feelings out of her mind. After all, Sylvie had sent for her to help out, and that was just what she would do. Sylvie had other, more important things to do and no doubt needed the sleep she was getting!
The "snooze alarm" went off at 9:30 and Sylvie heard rustling noises coming from her dressing room. The tub water was being turned on, and groggily, Sylvie realized that her maid, Ella, was in there preparing her morning tub. Once more, Sylvie regretted her own cowardice. Why she had not fired the girl several days ago she could not even explain to herself. She knew that Ella herself was probably not responsible for her lewd seduction on the beach by young Erick Cassidy, that she was in fact as much a victim of the fatal Cassidy charm as she herself was.
These thoughts plus the fact that she feared betraying still more weakness to the youngest brother of the family had caused her to keep Ella on as her maid, although the mere sight of the girl was enough to set Sylvie's teeth on edge. Now, though as the disappointing events of the night before rushed in on her waking brain, Sylvie sat up with a start.
"Get out!" she cried, "Get out of here!"
She was satisfied to hear the noises of the teen-aged girl's flight from the bathroom, and she fell back to the bed with a sigh. She reached her hand out for the printed sheet of paper which detailed her day's activities, conscious all the while of the now cold indentation beside her on the outsized double bed, where her husband had slept on his back all night long. There had been a time, Sylvie remembered, when the two of them had slept curled close to each other at night, but now Tim slept as a complete entity unto himself, and Sylvie kept to her own side of the bed, mindful nonetheless of the warmth she was missing.
Angrily, Sylvie read the schedule for the day. Her hairdresser was due in half an hour, and then at 11:00 she had to tape an interview with Jay Starker of NBC News. The television cameras were probably already being set up downstairs, and Sylvie hoped that Arlene would be able to cope with everything. In the afternoon she was due to visit a Foundling Home in Grandville where it was known that conditions were under par due to lack of Federal and State funds. Her visit was supposed to point up these facts and Tim's speech that night at the fund raising dinner would no doubt contain a reference to it.
After the dinner which she had to attend with her husband, Tim had a private meeting with some of the state big wigs who were supporting him, and Sylvie was on her own. At the bottom of the page the word FREE was written, and Sylvie read it thinking bitterly of how exhausted and bored she would be by that time, and more than that, of her husband, who would probably not return home until the wee hours of the morning after what she knew was an important meeting in town. There would be no love-making that night, she knew, as she climbed out of bed, no lovemaking and no comfort for hours, days… perhaps years!
The prospect was grim indeed as the stunning 24-year-old blonde surveyed her face in the bathroom mirror, she thought with desperation that she must do something to control the horrible trap that her life was becoming. Something had to be done!
"You'd better stick around to make sure that she can handle the television people," Ron had told his younger brother, Erick, as he climbed into the back of the limousine.
"Sure thing!" Erick replied, "she's a pretty thing, isn't she?"
"Watch your step, Erick! She and Sylvie are like sisters… Don't make any unnecessary complications!" he commanded, disappearing into the depths of the back seat.
"I always watch my step!" Erick replied as the car headed down the driveway toward the town. "Or at least I try to," he said to himself as he turned to go back into the house.
The TV people were making a racket in the living room when he went in, but Erick noticed that Arlene had everything pretty well in hand.
"You're going to work out fine, aren't you?" he told her as she whizzed by him on her way to speak with the special advisor the family had always used for television appearances. A former director himself, he brought along the best make-up man in the business and made certain that there were no unflattering angles or lighting during the taping.
Arlene was going to talk with him about the color of the flowers that would be behind Sylvie while she was talking to the interviewer.
Erick was pleased to see the newcomer blush under his frank gaze.
"I certainly plan to," she replied, firmly, with a brisk smile that she intended to mean that she was friendly, but busy.
Erick watched her go by, and followed her moving hips with interest and amusement. "Built like a brick shit house," he murmured to himself as he took in the firm but full shapes of Arlene's buttocks as she hurriedly walked across the room. "Wonder what those babies would feel like in my hands?" he mused to himself as he walked out onto the terrace to survey the morning.
He decided that he would hang around until Sylvie came downstairs. He wouldn't miss his morning greeting to his nervous sister-in-law for anything, not after he'd caught her spying on him at the beach that day. He still felt a gleeful exhilaration every time he thought about seeing her up there on the dune, her fingers wriggling in her own pussy. His own brother's wife! He'd always suspected that she was a hot number, and it had always been a source of pleasure to him to see her turn red with embarrassment and anger when he whispered those suggestive things to her about his girl friends. But now, things were much more serious! There was no real rush about it, but Erick know that shortly he was going to feel those long silky legs of Sylvie's wrapped around his neck. His own hard cock, and not his big brother Tim's was going to be filling that little blonde cunt of hers, and she was going to love it! Of that much he was sure!
Sylvie came slowly down the winding staircase. She looked almost surrealistically beautiful, having just been made up and coiffeured by the experts. Her white dress was simple but expensive, her well turned calves and ankles led down to a white medium heeled pump of soft Italian leather. On her wrist she wore the gold bracelet her husband had given her the night before. There was a hush among the waiting cameramen and the others that were crowded into the living room of the Cassidy Family Meeting Place as Sylvie appeared among them. Arlene tried to stifle the jealousy that the sight of Sylvie provoked in her.