Good Sister, The Read Online Free PDF

York, she reminded them. After all, there was an empire to run. “See you in Cannes” were her last words to the studio heads and important producers. She made it sound like a friendly promise, even though it was really a sales pitch.
    Her New York apartment was part of the persona, a two-story penthouse overlooking the East River that had been featured in both Architectural Digest and Interior Design . Catherine managed the place with telling glances to her housekeeper, a German matron named Inga who ordered about an army of window washers, silver polishers, and cleaning services with Prussian efficiency. In response to a call placed somewhere over Kansas, Inga had laid out Catherine’s black business dress and a string of perfect pearls, so within an hour of her transcontinental flight’s touchdown, Catherine was flashing by her secretary’s desk and into her office.
    The office bore little resemblance to a work area. Surrounded by a glass floor-to-ceiling panorama of the New York skyline, it was arranged on two carpeted levels. The lower level had several groupings of modern furniture, minimalist in design so as not to block the picture windows. There was a conference table with half a dozen stern chairs, a grouping of softer, more comfortable chairs and a sofa around a coffee table, and four chairs arranged theater-style in front of a huge television screen. That level was
currently taken up with sketches and models of the company’s planned exhibit at the Cannes Film Festival. The exhibit, built around the capabilities of Pegasus III, had been in the works for months before the launch, a tribute to Catherine’s confidence in her sister’s capabilities.
    Up one step was Catherine’s desk, a glass platform that seemed to float in space with no visible means of support. There was just one chair, a chrome and white leather low-back design in keeping with the minimalist theme, and one desk appointment, a chrome telephone. The design required secretaries to carry work in and out on demand, and those who approached the desk to remain standing. It also served, as Peter Barnes delighted in reminding her, as a perfect showcase for her perfect legs.
    Not immediately visible were the other rooms of the office suite. A bathroom with a cavernous shower as well as an oversize Jacuzzi. A wine cellar with two-zone temperature control. A fully equipped gymnasium. A clothes closet with changes that let Catherine dress up or down on a minute’s notice. And a small kitchen with a stocked refrigerator and china cabinet. It was, as Jennifer teased her, a decent apartment for a family of five.
    Catherine jumped up and rushed across the office to greet her sister, who was still dressed in jeans and a blouse. She kissed Jennifer on the lips, hugged her close, and repeated her congratulations. “The news rocked them in Hollywood,” she reported. “I think we did more celebrating than you.”
    She stepped back to take in Jennifer’s attire and reacted with horror. “Oh, for God’s sake, we could have put this meeting off until tomorrow. You haven’t even had time to clean up from the jungle.”
    “I got in this morning,” Jennifer answered.
    “That is her business suit,” Peter Barnes said, standing in the doorway. Catherine went toward him with a sisterly kiss.
    Peter wandered to the sofa and settled in, his long legs sticking up awkwardly from the low perch. “Both of you returning
home in triumph. No Caesar was ever blessed with such generals.” He glanced around at the Cannes displays. “I got a glimpse of this when they were setting it up. It looks spectacular.”
    “It is,” Catherine answered. “It’s also expensive, to answer the question that you’re dying to ask. Way over budget but worth every penny.”
    Jennifer settled into a chair and stretched her sandaled feet onto the coffee table as Catherine began her presentation of her plans for conquering the Cannes Film Festival. She was interested, but only in the