The Heir and The Spare by Peewee

Chapter 1

He relished the burning tingle as the scotch slid down his throat, knowing if he drank enough, the images assaulting him would cease. Closing his eyes he could still hear the sounds, so he shook the ice in his drink and downed the rest in one swallow. Walking over to the banquette he glanced at the photograph hanging over the mantle and poured another drink. The sting of the liquid wasn't as calming this time so he poured another before turning to face the photo. He failed them. Looking into the warm brown eyes of his wife and son was too painful. They would be ashamed. All of them looking to him for protection, for love and acceptance, he shivered and took another sip. His pale blue eyes misting as memories plagued him. He sat the scotch down for a moment and ran his fingers through his thinning light brown hair, a habit his wife used to scold him for. In his mind he could see her, small and slender with white blond curls and dancing brown eyes. She would lean in and whisper. "Andre, you keep running your hand through your hair you'll go bald."

He missed her.

She would be so disappointed in him. After the accident he had locked himself away with scotch and memories, never caring what happened to his daughters. For half a year he hid, leaving twenty-six year old Sylvie to run the company. At least Sylvie was an adult, with a home of her own and friends to help her, Misha was fifteen and alone. Stuck in an empty estate, dealing with the grief of losing her mother and brother. He didn't care. He had lost the other half of his soul. To make his selfishness all encompassing, he didn't return to them out of love, duty or commitment, but sheer jealousy. Sylvie had increased growth during the two quarters she was in charge, and he couldn't let his daughter best him.

Oh Yvette, he thought, I have really messed things up this time.

If he had just been the man he was before the accident none of this would have happened. He would have stood up to Sylvie. He would have told his controlling daughter that Misha wasn't coming to work for them. Misha had no interest in the business; she wanted to be a teacher. Misha had tried but eventually gave in to her sister, partially because she adored Sylvie and partially because it was only a summer job. In the fall she would start college and leave the business far behind. In the two years since the accident Sylvie had become Martin Lumber, brining it growth and prosperity when all other lumber companies were failing. Sylvie was a formidable woman so he just accepted that Misha would work there till she went away. Sylvie didn't know of Misha' desire to teach, Andre had kept it a secret, hoping his eldest child would realize that Misha was not a businesswoman, when Sylvie didn't start Misha in the offices, but in the yard, he assumed Sylvie understood that. He was wrong and by then it was too late.

He picked up his drink again, enjoying the cool condensation. It was unbearably hot outside and the heat seeped into the dark wooden confines of the library. He rubbed the cold glass against his head before taking a sip. He looked up at the photo and thought he could see sadness and disapproval in his wife's eyes. He started to cry, softly at first then his whole body began to convulse with sobs. He was so ashamed. He wasn't a man anymore. A man would protect his child. Yvette would have protected Misha, why couldn't he. Hell her late brother Theo would have protected her, or at least extracted vengeance. He was unable to do either. Sylvie saw to that. She sent him home, ordered him off the property for at least forty-eight hours.

"Go home Father." She told him her eye's icy cold. "Go home and have a drink. I'll handle this."

"But?" He tried to protest.

"You're too emotional. I'll fix this. You go home. There is nothing you can do now." With those few words she had totally emasculated him.

He wiped his eyes and tried to collect himself. He grabbed a small photo off one of the bookshelves. It was Misha' christening photo. He held it to his chest and flopped down in a wing-backed chair. He took a sip of his scotch and closed his eyes. Maybe if he could remember happier times he could push the horror of what he saw out of his mind. He smiled as the memory of Misha that day flooded back. She was only a year old and already she had a head of white blond curls. She had his eyes though; blue and worldly even at that young age. Yvette said she was his girl through and through. Theo was really easygoing but not afraid to fight like Yvette, Sylvie was quiet and purposeful like Andre's father, but Misha was spirited and curious like Andre was as a child.

"Oh baby." Andre wept into his scotch. "I'm so sorry."

~~~

She stood looking out the window of the executive offices. Martin Lumber was almost as old as the Hudson's Bay Company, but not nearly as respected. The late 20th century and the beginning of the new millennia hadn't been kind. Environmental concerns brought protesters and politicians to their doors almost every day. Their concerns were legitimate, clear cutting was no longer practiced without prejudice. The replanting efforts of the past 20 years were noble but they hadn't yielded much practical relief. The biggest problem was the fact that trees grew according to their own timetable. This put the company at a disadvantage. It put the whole forestry industry at a disadvantage. The new 'Green' initiative didn't actually decrease the demand for lumber, it just made those that cut the tree's look like environmental pirates, raping and pillaging the land for their own insatiable greed.

She saved the company. She reached out to environmental groups and political activists for idea's and initiatives to help modernize the entire forestry industry. It made her a traitor to competitors but it increased the company's coffers. She was often seen at dinner meetings with political insiders and lobbyists, reporters called her the poster child for 'Green' industry in Canada. The fact that she was a beautiful leggy blond didn't hurt. She was the perfect person to act as the face of Martin Lumber. Her father had been proud, but also sceptical. He wasn't sure how much of the rhetoric she actually believed. She laughed at him and told him he wasn't seeing the big picture. "I don't have to believe it, I can hire people who believe it."

He was weak. Her grandfather told her that years ago, weak and short sighted. Papa promised her that one day she would rule his lumber empire, because she was the only one who deserved to. She worked hard to earn the old mans confidence. Even when it angered her parents she strove to be just like her beloved grandfather. Today she proved it. She stopped the chaos and avoided any bad press. Her father had been no help, swinging from one emotional extreme to the next. First he beat Tommy La Salle to a pulp then wept like a child over the blood on his hands. She had to take control. She called Dr. Trombley her grandfather's best friend to treat Tommy's injuries and keep it quiet. Then she sent the other men involved home to await legal council and advised them to keep their mouths shut. Reminding them that their wives would probably not be as forgiving as she was. In truth she wasn't forgiving at all. She would destroy them. But for now they had to think all she worried about was the company. Then she contacted the company's legal team and put into motion a series of legal gag orders and financial packages to offer the men involved. It disgusted her to have to deal with them in a civilized manner at all. She knew that they had the potential to harm the company, so she would offer anything to keep them from any legal recourse.

She knew deep inside that the price she was willing to pay could cost her more than money. Misha might never forgive her. She tried not to think about her sister. If she started she would never be able to finish this. She shook her head in a physical effort to clear her head. She ran her hands through her long dark blond hair, never realizing that it was a habit she inherited from her father. Taking a deep breath she made an effort to actually look at the yard. There was the mill and the trucks lined up, the stacks of trees ready to be planed and the end result all stacked in neat and tidy rows. The yard had order. She loved order. She could count on it.

The phone rang, she sighed not wanting to have to answer it but knowing everyone else had gone home for the evening. She hoped it wasn't Geller. Ira Geller was the head of the legal department in Montreal. She had contacted him earlier to have him write up the documents. It took a few stern words before he agreed to do it. She just didn't have it in her to go another round with the self-righteous little man. She stalked over to the desk and answered.

"Hello." It was an accusation.

"Hey babe." The man's voice was deep and silky smooth. "Are we still on for tonight?"

She smiled as she felt her heart lift a bit. "Yes Gatean."

"I'm glad I've missed you here this week. When are you gonna come down for a longer visit?"

"Soon. We had some problems here today so I may be late getting in." She said twirling a piece of her hair.

"I'll wait. Laval?" he asked, if she had a change of schedule that meant her flight plan may have changed as well.

"Laval I think, I'll let you know before I board." She said smiling into the phone.

"Alright Sylvie, should I try and move back our reservations, or just cancel them?"

"I'd say cancel. Maybe we can go grab something trashy and fun on St. Lawrence." She smirked, knowing he would be up for that.

"Slumming, sounds good, just let me know where to pick you up."

"I will Gatean." She was about to hang up when she heard him.

"Love you Sylvie."

She hung up letting him think she missed his declaration of love.

She really liked Gatean; he was tall, muscular and sexy with black curls and dark bedroom eyes, but she had no room for love in her life. She loved the company, she loved Misha and she occasionally admitted to loving her best friend Allie. That was all she needed. She did however like being seen on Gatean' arm. He was a suave sexy man with lofty political ambitions; he helped her keep up her image. They turned the Canadian political and business landscape on its ear becoming instant celebrities. They were young and beautiful, with tons of potential. If only he could have kept his mouth shut. She would have stayed by his side long enough for both of them to gain, but she had grown tired of his increasingly routine admissions of love. She would go with him downtown, pick a fight, have lots of photographers nearby to capture it all and then break up with him. It was cold and calculating but it would work.

The knock on the door surprised her.

"Enter." She barked.

Ira Geller entered the office. He was a small man, short and wiry, with thinning grey hair and deep-set dark eyes often hidden by his glasses. Though small in stature he compensated by being the best at what he did. Right now his job was saving the company from any scandal. She had no doubt that he would do his job, even though he wasn't happy about it. He nodded at her and approached the desk.

"I have the documents you requested." He said curtly.

"I trust they absolve the company, my father, and all the others from legal action." She asked raising an eyebrow.

"Yes it ties the hands of all involved to seek legal action in the future." He sneered.

She gave him a cold look. "Ira, contrary to popular belief I am not happy about this either, but I have to protect the company."

"At the expense of your sisters dignity." He snapped.

She turned on him. "Misha is not your concern. This company is. I expect you to fulfill your obligation to this business regardless of your personal opinion."

Ira sneered at her. "I am well aware of my obligations. You can be sure your company will never be harmed by news of this event. You have made that impossible. Not to mention those men would be stupid to mention it, and have the threat of prison looming."

"That was the whole idea." She said coldly. "They take what we give them and keep their mouths shut or we destroy them in court. It should be an easy choice."

"I got in touch with Allie. She's on her way here. I thought you would want this all wrapped up tonight so with the two of us working together we can get all the signatures."

"Good." Sylvie said absently. "Don't forget to have Father and Misha sign."

Ira ground his teeth so loudly even Sylvie heard it. She just raised an eyebrow. "Problems?"

Ira cleared his throat. "No problems what so ever. Would you like to go over the documents?"

"Yes please." She nodded reaching out.

Ira handed her the files and watched as she dissected every line. She was a cruel and vicious woman, her grandfather would be proud. Andre would probably never recover. He hoped Misha would, but one never could be sure. He looked up after a few minutes to see Sylvie giving him a predatory smile. He swallowed the lump in his throat and tried to look indifferent.

"It's satisfactory I presume?" He said as calmly as he could.

"It's perfect." She purred.

Ira blinked.

"I'll sign my copy now." She said grabbing a pen. "I have dinner plans for the evening and this mess has caused me to run late."

Ira was stunned. How could she be worried about socializing at a time like this?

"I trust you and Allie will be able to wrap this up tonight?" It wasn't really a question.

"The signed copies will be waiting for you on your desk in the morning." Ira said coolly.

"Good. Having this matter looked after is imperative." Her tone indicated that failing her would be a grave mistake.

~~~

She stared out her window listening to the cicada's hum and watching the night sky shimmer from the heat. The long sleeved shirt she wore with her pyjama bottoms couldn't keep away the chill that had settled inside her. She shivered and rubbed her arms trying to chase away the cold. She absently wondered if she would ever feel warm again. She purposely didn't ask herself when she last felt hot. She knew that answer. It was the thing she would probably always remember; the image of her sweat dripping down to join her tears in a small pool on the concrete floor a few feet below her face. She shivered again and drew the curtains.

She moved towards the small desk in her room. It was covered with the usual nonsense that teenage girls collected, stuffed animals, magazines and hair bands. But it also held her most prized possessions, pictures of her family and friends. She had already turned the pictures of her family towards the wall. Not wanting her late Mother and brother to see her like this. She wished her father and sister had been saved that pain. She picked up a picture of herself with another young woman, both fresh off the soccer pitch, sweaty red faced and grinning. It was taken the day they won the provincial championship. She had scored the winning goal and Kendra had shutout the other team. They were the hero's of the game. It was one of the happiest days of her life not only because of the game. She spent that night in Kendra's arms, finally consummating their relationship.

She reached out and gently touched Kendra's face. "Oh Ken, I wish you were here."

She didn't cry. She couldn't. Someone had to stay strong and look after her father; if she fell to pieces he would be alone. She knew Mr. Geller and Allie were in the library with him, probably going over the legal ramifications of what happened. Her father wasn't strong enough to go through all of that. He would turn to the bottle as soon as they left. She had to make sure he was okay and at least get him to the couch to sleep it off. He would feel worse in the morning if he fell asleep in the chair. Maybe if he was really bad she would have to sleep in the library to keep him from doing something stupid, at least then she wouldn't be all alone.

A gentle knock on her door roused her from her thoughts. She was surprised; no one ever wanted to talk to her. She walked over to the door and opened it a crack. A beautiful but tired face smiled weakly at her. Allison Kenney had been a staple at the Martin house since before Misha was born. She was Sylvie's best friend and the only person left alive that could force Sylvie to play nice. She was the first person Misha ever had a crush on.

"Can I come in?" Allie's voice sounded strange, like she had a cold.

Misha opened the door and crossed back over to her desk.

Allie watched the young woman's slow painful movements with tears forming in her warm dark eyes. Misha had always been one of her favourite people, even when she was a little tag along kid. She was always so energetic and full of life. She was the real reason the family survived the tragic loss of Yvette and Theo. While Andre and Sylvie fought for leadership of the company Misha became the true heart of the family.

Misha stared at her desk. Tears that she had fought off for hours now threatened to fall. She needed to get herself together. She couldn't lose control now or she would never stop crying. Why did it have to be Allie? Why couldn't it have been Sylvie? She could have stayed strong with Sylvie there, but not Allie. The lawyer had that indefinable something that made you feel safe, protected and loved, like her Mama had. Misha looked up at the beautiful dark haired woman with tears filling her eyes. Allie took three giant strides across the room and gathered the girl up in her arms. Misha held on to her sobbing and wailing against the horrors she faced. The whole time Allie said nothing but held her tight and kissed the top of her head. Misha fought hard to gain control of her emotions again. Allie wouldn't lessen her hold.

"It's okay Misha," She said kissing her hair again. "You cry all you want. You're safe now. I'm here baby-girl."

Given permission, Misha no longer tried to keep control at all. She just wept. Allie held on never letting go of the youngster. Someone had to be there for Misha this time, and if her own family wasn't up to the job then Allie was. When Misha finally started to calm Allie relaxed her hold, but only enough to look into the girls pale blue eyes.

"You're gonna be okay." She promised her.

Misha just nodded hoping Allie was right. She wiped her eyes and tried to take a step back from Allie. Allie let her go but kept a watchful eye on the girl.

"Thanks." Misha said softly.

Allie winced; she was really not looking forward to this part.

"Misha," She said softly. "Sylvie had Ira print up some forms so no one can sue the company. We need you to sign them too."

Misha sniffed and looked at Allie. "Why?"

Allie closed her eyes. "We need to make sure that no one ever talks about what happened today, even you."

Misha was stunned. "Why?"

'My thoughts exactly kiddo.' Allie thought to herself.

"There can't be any negative publicity aimed at the company. If the press got wind of this it could get ugly." Allie said quoting the party line.

Misha shifted nervously. "I don't want anyone to know."

Allie closed her eyes again. "I know hon."

"I'll sign whatever Sylvie wants me to." She said her adoration of her older sister still shining through.

Allie bit her lip and nodded. 'You don't deserve her Spanky, she's too good for you.'

"I am going to bring Ira in. or would you rather go down to the library with your father and sign it there?" Allie asked.

Misha tensed and looked away for a moment. "Bring him in here. I don't think Dad could take it."

Allie nodded and rose quickly trying to hide the tears forming in her eyes.

She had fallen hard for Sylvie Martin the day they met. She followed the girl around like a puppy dog. Sylvie was two years older, tall, pretty and smart, she wanted to be just like her. A few years later as puberty hit she realized her fascination with Sylvie was more than just friendship, but she never let on. For years she adored her best friend with the kind of blind devotion televangists wives had. Allie would forgive any sin Sylvie commited. She knew Sylvie had no clue about her true feelings. She had heard Sylvie's homophobic rants enough times to know better than to reveal her secret. She was there for Sylvie when her mother and Theo died. She held her friend together and helped look after Misha. Misha had been a cute kid when she was young and she had grown into a beautiful young woman. She was seventeen and in the fall she would be headed off to university. She had her whole life ahead of her and now Sylvie was ordering her to never talk about the most traumatic event the girl had ever gone through. It was cruel. Allie knew Sylvie could be cruel, she just never thought she would treat Misha that way. Misha was one of the few people who could break through Sylvie's tough exterior. Allie wasn't sure if she would be able to forgive Sylvie for this.

Ira came into the room explained the basic principle of the documents then let Misha look them over. He couldn't even look at the girl. He had no idea what to say to her. He looked at Allie who was watching Misha intently. He knew Allie was livid at her friend. He couldn't blame her.

Misha signed the documents and handed them back to Ira. He thanked her then walked out of the room.

"I should get going too kiddo. Do you want me to get you anything?" Allie asked standing up.

"She paid them off didn't she?" Misha asked looking out the window.

Allie looked at Misha then sighed. "Yeah. She did."

Misha' grit her teeth. "Why?"

Allie was about to spout the party line again but couldn't. "I don't know kiddo. I hope she was so shaken by what happened the only way she could deal with it was to be uber-tycoon and just throw herself into protecting the company."

Misha looked at her hands. "Because she couldn't protect me?"

"I think so." Allie wondered where Misha' faith in Sylvie came from. "Sylvie needs to be in control, especially when bad things happen. It makes her feel useful."

Misha nodded then wiped a tear away. "I wish she would have come with you."

"Me too kiddo. Me too." Allie said walking back and giving the girl another hug.

Misha suddenly realized she was soon going to be alone again. The prospect of looking after her drunken father had lost its allure.

"Allie, can you stay here with me tonight." Misha said wiping her eyes so she wouldn't look like a baby. "I don't think I'm going to be able to sleep by myself."

Allie nodded. "Just let me go and tell Ira. I'll steal something to sleep in from Sylvie's old room and be back in a second."

Misha smiled with relief. Allie felt her throat tighten and she kissed the girls head again and left the room. She met both men at the main doors. She said good night to Ira and told Andre she was staying then went into Sylvie's old room. She got changed and then picked up the phone and called Sylvie's apartment. When the machine came on she grit her teeth.

"Sylvie, you get your ass to your fathers house first thing in the morning. I am staying here because your sister is scared to sleep alone and your pop is drunk. She wants you here and she wants some answers? How could you pay off the men who raped her Sylvie?" Allie's voice broke, so she waited a moment before she continued. "Just be here in the morning."

The deafening sound of a gunshot echoed throughout the entire estate.

"Daddy!" Misha screamed and ran towards the sound.

"Misha! NO!" Allie dropped the phone and chased after the girl.

~~~

"Sylvie how can you say that?" Gatean yelled drawing more attention from the paparazzi.

"It's the truth Gatean and you know it." She spat back with venom.

It may only be an act to her but she was going to put on a performance worthy of awards. Gatean would look like a cheating scoundrel and she would be the innocent victim. It wasn't fair but politics and business were never fair. Her cell phone rang. She thought about ignoring it but decided it played to the press to answer it distraught.

"Hello?" She asked holding her hand over her other ear.

"You have got to be kidding me. You're answering your fucking phone!" Gatean screamed.

She held her hand up to him and her face fell. "What?"

"I can't fucking believe this. You're dumping me and you take a call. You're unbelievable." Gatean shouted and stalked around her waving his arms and cursing at her.

The world seemed to tilt for Sylvie. One minute she had everything under control and the next it all came crashing down. She stumbled for a moment and grabbed Gatean' arm.

"What?" She asked again louder this time.

Gatean stopped yelling and held her up. He knew Sylvie well enough to realize she would never lose control like this unless she were truly upset.

"No." She whispered, and started to shake.

"Sylvie?" He asked holding onto her arm.

"I'll be there as soon as I can." She said her voice breaking.

She closed her cell and wiped her eyes. Gatean pulled her into a hug. Sylvie Martin was not an emotional woman; to have the chance to comfort her was something he wouldn't miss.

"I have to get home Gatean." She said in a small voice.

"I'll call the airport." He nodded grabbing his own cell. "What happened?"

"Papa is dead." She said her eyes growing cold. "The selfish son of a bitch killed himself."

"Oh Sylvie." He said knowing how hard this would be on her. "I'll make sure you get home right away if I have to drive you there myself."

Sylvie smiled in gratitude. There was a deeper reason for their relationship other than mutual raised profiles. She really was fond of the man.

"Quickly Gatean. I can't leave Misha alone. Not now." She said tears forming in her eyes.

Continued...