Chapter 1

I was headhunted out of Ohio State by a Large Corporation out of Columbus, as an accountant. I wanted to open my own business, but the money they offered was good, I would gain experience, and they have a great intermural sports program. I never played for any of my school’s teams, because I knew I wanted to be an accountant in my freshman year of high school. I enjoyed the main sports, basketball, baseball, and cross country. My high school coaches tried to get me to participate in the varsity programs, but I just wasn’t interested enough to put in that much time.

I finished high school a semester early and started at Ohio State the next quarter. I was in the dorm my first two years but convinced my dad I needed a quiet place to live. I had outgrown the dorms and wasn’t a big drinker. Dad agreed with one condition. I had to take my twin sister, Sara, with me. She was back living at home and was driving the folks crazy. She needed a jump start.

My twin sister, Tina Susan Waters-Jones. She fell in love and was married at eighteen against everybody’s wishes. He was a douchebag and was cheating on her the first year of their marriage. It lasted two years until he called her by another woman’s name during sex. He gone!

She worked as a waitress and was having trouble making ends meet. She is tall, I’m six foot and she is about two inches shorter. She is fit in her curvaceous body. The last time I looked at one of her bras hanging on the bathroom curtain rod, it said 36 C on the tag. I have seen her naked our whole life, she has a nice body, and I will give her that. I wish she would stop sharing it with everyone that buys her a drink. That’s not fair, but she takes too many risks, which bothers me. Scares me.

Having no choice, I agreed to his condition, and we found a small two-bedroom apartment, a bike ride from campus. On a brighter note, she does own an old beater that runs well and has good tires and brakes. Dad makes sure of this. So, a week before my Junior Year, we moved in together. We get along great, but she is a chick, and we share the bathroom a war zone in there. Richard Pryor used to joke women don’t fart they poot. I am here to tell you; Tina farts and she likes to leave one in my room or just crop-dust the apartment and giggles like a little girl the whole time. It’s adorable.

I had little privacy, because of the small size of our space and she never quite got the concept of knocking before entering. I would be in the shower and notice she was taking a piss or putting on makeup. When I would say something, she would always say, “I’ve seen that little thing my whole life. Nothing’s changed.”

Fair play dictated that I walk in, stand next to the tub, and piss into the bowl while she sits in her bathwater. The thing is, she never tried to cover up or scream at me to get out. I think her nipples got hard once. She never complained and has no fear of nudity, this also concerned me. The only thing she ever said one time was, “Do you have a hardon?”

I had a bag of weed in my pocket and showed it to her. I think she was disappointed, but she can be contrary sometimes.

“What the hell kind of a question was that?” I asked, fucking with her.

“It looked bigger.” Her tone going higher on bigger. I bust out laughing, she can be so cute at times. She does have her evil side. I learned practical jokes were not in my best interest. Had to call a truce on those.

One evening I needed the car, so I had to pick Tina up after her shift at the restaurant she worked at. I was running a little late and everyone was leaving. I went inside and there was nobody around when I heard Tina laugh in that nervous way she does when the situation may be going bad and she’s trying to find an exit.

I walked into the kitchen, where it came from, and saw a man in a chef’s hat, who had Tina trapped against some storage racks. I yelled, “Get the fuck off of her!” I was about to grab him when he moved away from us.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He started. “I thought she liked me.”

“Do you want to file charges, Tina?” I asked looking her over to be sure she hadn’t been harmed.

“There’s no need for that.” Cookie boy stammered.

“No, he didn’t hurt me, maybe I led him on. I just want to go home.” She turned and headed for the front door.

As I followed her out of the kitchen, I looked at the asshole and said, “She doesn’t work here anymore. I’ll be by for her final check Friday.” We got outside and I stopped her. “Are you okay?” I noticed a tear on her cheek and wiped it with the back of a finger.

“Yeah, he just scared me. If you had walked in 5 seconds sooner, nothing would have happened.” I walked her to the car and opened the passenger door for her, closing it when she was seated. On the way home, I told her that she didn’t work there anymore.

“What am I going to do for money? How am I going to pay rent or buy things I need?” Her eyes searched for answers.

I tried to calm her, “Don’t sweat it. I’ll sell it to Dad. I’ll tell him you weren’t safe where you worked. If you stay home and cook our meals, we can save a butt-load of money right there. Plus, maybe you could take a class, and start looking into career fields.”

She seemed to be calming down, “Do you think he will buy it?”

“It’s the truth, maybe you could even clean up the bathroom.” I chided.

“Oh, I see now. You want me to play little Miss Housewife. What I take care of the house during the day and take care of you at night?” She said, trailing off at the end of the sentence. We sat in that deafening silence, comprehending that last part. “You know what I mean.” She rushed in. “You think he’ll buy it?”