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Diana's Scandalous Secret
Chris began to question the wisdom of this trip. His eyes perused, through the car window, the long landscape of grass and trees flickering by, in minutes. He glanced at his wrist watch and turned his head to the chauffeur.
“Excuse me, do you know when we’ll get there?” He asked loudly. He was starting to get impatient.
“I—uh—sorry. Not—uh--long,” answered the chauffeur.
Chris closed his eyes. He didn’t hear what the chauffeur said. Maybe because the chauffeur spoke with a heavy Hindi accent? Or was it his rumbling stomach? Stupid airplane food.
Don’t worry Chris, he told himself, we’ll get there in a few minutes. Diana better have not been getting too ahead of herself this time.
He felt the wheals turn and pull over on the side of the road, next to a huge, glass building. The chauffeur got out and opened the door of the car.
Chris slipped out of his seat and straightened his tie.
“Swagat—uh--welcome,” said the chauffeur, “to Mumbai.”
One man, dressed in a black suit, waited outside the glass building. His eyes looked like they were latched open, watching every structure in the premise, like an owl. Chris’s eyebrows perked up. Why did Diana need security?
Chris walked up to him and cleared his throat.
“Name?” asked the man, in a husky voice.
“Chris,” he said. He secured his black jacket on his shoulders though the hot Indian sun was beating down on his head. “Chris Johns.” He repeated, sounding surer of himself.
The man stepped aside from the only door. “Diana’s expecting you.”
Chris walked into the glass building, his black shews making a click sound as they hit the floor. An elevator was located down the hall. He went in and pressed button sixteen.
The doors opened. “Hello brother!” called a cheery woman’s voice. Chris was surprised. Diana never expressed any emotion. He wondered why there was a change.
“Come in, come in,” said Diana, “since when were you so shy? You were always the strong one—always knowing the right words to use and when.” She sat at a giant desk, with papers scattered across the surface. A wooden closet door stood at her right. She held the corners of her desk and her eyes were shining.
Chris crossed his arms over his chest. “And you were always very reserved and observing. Your point?”
“Sheesh brother,” answered Diana, “what’s with all the drama. Have a seat.” She pointed to a tiny green couch next to her desk.
“I missed you. Would you like some tea? It’s customary to have tea here.” Diana tapped her fingers on her desk. She looked at Chris with nervous eyes. He never trusted that kind of look.
“Let’s cut this meeting short,” he snapped, “you asked me to meet you in the middle of India. You want something—what is it?”
“Why Chrissy,” Diana purred, “you always like to get to the point. Somethings never change.” She handed him a saucer, and poured black liquid into it from a kettle. He noticed that she avoided looking at him, while what he assumed was tea filled his saucer.
“Diana,” he said,” I don’t have time for this. Last time you wanted me to sponsor your research on animals, before that it was on plants. And now….”
A smile crawled up Diana’s face. It wasn’t the kind of smile that made someone feel comfortable. It was the kind if smile that made you squirm in your seat.
“Oh, Chrissy! Do you even know what kind of research I was conducting on animals?” She asked, a dreamy expression fell upon her face.
“No, I have no interest in Science.”
“Well, Chrissy. That’s why you’re into real estate and doing very well off. You’re very rich—I’ll hand you that. But me—no I’m looking for fame and glory.”
“What the hell did you do?”
“Well, since you asked.” Diana clapped her hands, like a sudden sprit of excitement took hold of her. “I was experimenting on animals. I was teaching myself the ins and outs of cloning.”
Chris slapped his forehead. When his parents told him to take care of his younger sister and make sure she was supported, he never dreamed it would be this hard.
He turned toward the wooden closet door. Just by being next to the door made him have anxiety. It gave off a vibe of lost hope, and he didn’t know why.