Clara

By Bettie MacIntyre

A sensuous woman, Liz fantasizes that men are attracted to her beauty and not her money, but that glittering exterior hides a troubled soul. She and her friend Clara love to party and are together everywhere. A professional singer and piano player, Clara is reserved, not glamorous in the traditional sense, saving herself for the right man. On her debut night at the exclusive Swan River Nightclub, she waits for Liz to show up, but there is no sign of her friend. In the club’s parking lot, a handsome, distinguished Joe Vigliara offers his help, and Clara is smitten with the much older man.

Luxuriating life at his sprawling mansion, she decides that Joe is the right man, and events take their inevitable romantic course. She has everything she dreamed of having: professional success, a happy marriage, a child ... except her friend Liz is not there to share it. As the months turn to years, she wonders is she would ever find her to make her life complete. Clara loves Joe unreservedly ... until another man enters her life.

A sensitive story of lasting friendship, intrigue, and forbidden love.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bettie MacIntyre
• Release date: Aug 16, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005496043

Bettie MacIntyre

I have lived most of my life in New England, but my heart will always remain in Vermont. I accomplished all that I wanted with in my career, but as my vocation, I love to write, and have been drafting short stories and poems from childhood. After taking early retirement, I put pen to paper and gave birth to the scrapes of stories and poems filed away, and The Hollow was born. It is a metaphorical story of a naïve country girl from the foothills of Vermont. I say metaphorical, but I will let you decide. I’ll give you a clue—Bettie I. MacIntyre.

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CLARA

By

Bettie MacIntyre

Smashwords Edition

Copyright: Bettie MacIntyre ©2021

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, and events are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to real persons, places, or events is coincidental.

Note:

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It may not be re-sold or given

away to other person. If you would like to share this book with another person, please

purchase an additional copy for each person you’d like to share it with. Thank you for

respecting the work of this author.

Dedication

To my dad, with love

Table of Contents

Ackowledgments

Introduction

Characters

Chapter 1. Liz and Clara

Chapter 2. Joe and Clara

Chapter 3. Jimmy and Clara

Chapter 4. Clara andVincent

Chapter 5. Clara and Joe

Chapter 6. Joe’s Request

Chapter 7. Joe’s Business

Chapter 8. Investigator

Chapter 9. Clara’s Parents

Chapter 10. Joe’s Surprise

Chapter 11. The Singing Swan

Chapter 12. The Chauffeur Ronace

Chapter 13. Lucky Thirteen

About the Author

Other Books by Bettie MacIntyre

Acknowledgments

I want to thank my dad. I modeled the main character, Joe, after him. My dad was a loving and faithful man, always available to assist anyone in need. He never put himself above another of lesser means and cared about everyone. My dad’s first love was his family, and he loved us dearly. Unlike Joe, a wealthy businessman, my dad was rich in character—a polio survivor who loved his wife and was of the highest standard. A wealthy man, not monetarily, but indeed an example of a dad. The most loving man I ever knew.

I thank all the remarkable men that have been in my life: Dave, Johann, and Arthur. I have molded a few loving characters within this book. The phrase ‘My sweet’ comes from what my special guy once called me. Another part of my heart revealed. I will always carry him in that place of love no one can erase.

To my Beta Reader and dear friend, Deb Silon, who unbiasedly critiqued and played the part of Clara. Deb spent many hours role-playing, bringing her to fruition. She acted and transformed her into a like character, sharing love, laughter, and lots of wine.

My mentor, Stefan, I cannot thank him enough. When I needed a boost, he encouraged me to write my words. It is due to him that Clara came alive, and the story developed. Our geographical area may be oceans apart, but our time zones are measured only by the hour.

www.stefanvucak.com

Cover art by Laura Shinn.

http://laurashinn.yolasite.com

Introduction

Clara and Liz share a close relationship; although opposites, they are best friends. Clara is a struggling twenty-eight-year-old entertainer, pianist, and singer, who maintains her vow of virginity. Liz, a wealthy, sexually alluring young woman of thirty-two, fantasizes that all men desire her. Liz likes getting her way with men, using sex and money to maneuver them. They share an uncanny friendship.

Liz is a tall, slender, curvaceous businesswoman of independent means. When she walks into a room, like a magnet, men are captivated by her. She falls in love with a different man nightly and fantasizes that men are attracted to her charm, beauty, and not her money.

When Clara enters, men overlooked her. She isn’t sexually alluring, but is attractive. Liz draws all the attention towards herself. They frequent penthouse galas, and they always have a grand piano. Clara weaves her way to the Baldwin, sits, and without pause, she plays a classical selection without hesitation and Broadway show tunes. The patrons gather around the piano as she entertains them, attracting her share of gentlemen to the delight of all. Unlike Liz, Clara’s standards are high. She refuses men’s advances and is saving herself for the right man. Clara has a close relationship with her parents and lives in a rented fourth-floor barred window apartment in a challenging neighborhood. Liz has no family that she speaks of and has an exquisite condo in the affluent area.

Clara and her band finally get a break and land a contract at an exclusive nightclub. Her classically trained talents and her band’s compositions bring the house down, to the club owner’s delight.

Clara’s entire life changed abruptly when Liz disappears, leaving a lingering mystery. Clara enjoys success, but she never questioned their friendship and love for one another. It continued to eat away at her heart for years, as there wasn’t any solution to her disappearance. All that Clara ever wanted had now come to fruition, followed by her finitude of happiness.

Characters

CLARA: Professional singer and pianist

FRANCOIS: Chauffeur

GRAM: Clara’s paternal grandmother

JIMMY: Band drummer

JOE: Business owner

JOHANN: Band – New drummer

JOSH: Band – Trumpet Player

LIZ: Alluring – Beautiful best friend

MAMA: Joe’s mother

MARIE: Maid

MR. BATOUCHI: Mama’s friend

PATTY: High school friend

PIERRE: Joe’s servant

RON: Band – Guitarist

THE SHAWS: Clara’s parents – Mom and Art

VINCENT: Bodyguard

We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence is not an act, but a habit.

Aristotle

Chapter 1

Liz and Clara

Clara’s Debut at the Swan River Nightclub

The evening sun began to set over the horizon, allowing streaks of amber to paint the sky in layers of magical shades of yellow and red. Liz drove her Ferrari over the Queensboro Bridge and pulled to the side of the road, unlatched the convertible top, retracted it, then sat back to enjoy the panoramic view and the sweet smell of fresh air. Living the fast life in New York City, she had forgotten what it felt like just to relax, something she hadn’t done in a long time. She was early, unusual for her, but tonight was the exception. It was Clara’s opening performance, and she was committed to being there on time, even if it killed her.

As she drove along the back road towards the exclusive Swan River Nightclub, she suddenly felt an urge for speed. She pressed the accelerator and sent her white Platinum Ferrari racing over the open road, top down. Her long silky blonde hair thrashed around wildly, giving her a rush of untamed liberty. An inner feeling she always pursued.

She favored arriving late at social events, making a grand entrance to ensure that everyone would notice her. Typically, her best friend Clara tagged along, but tonight was her debut, and Liz wanted to be there to support her. This was uncommon for Liz, as the entire focus of attention was usually on her. She promised Clara to apply her stage make-up, assist with her gown, be in the audience, and watch her performance.

Liz was happy knowing she was on time and turned into the nightclub entrance. On each side of the driveway, white fluted columns supported a graceful swan statue, and a sign read, ‘5 miles per hour’. Liz ignored the warning and sped her sports car up the long tree-lined drive toward the front of the discothèque. A valet stood under the arched green awning that bore the exclusive club’s name. He gestured, waving his white-gloved hand, for her to continue moving forward. Liz ignored him in her typical fashion, stopped under the protective green canopy, and began to get out of her low-sitting Ferrari.

The valet hurried over and approached the sports car. He looked grand in his military-style uniform, adorned with gold epaulets and double gold striped cuffs. He halted her with his hand up in plausible deniability and directed Liz to remain in her car.

Sorry, Mademoiselle, valet and priority parking are full. We have a packed house tonight. You might be able to find an available spot down in the open parking area, he said and pointed his gloved finger at the regular customer parking. Mademoiselle, please move forward.

Liz hesitated and then looked directly into the attendant’s eyes. She suggestively rubbed the front of her braless vee-styled low-cut dress, and with her forefinger, circling it around her right breast, then placed it in her mouth and made evocative oral sounds and body motions.

Do you know who I am? she spoke flirtatiously and in a coy manner, Hello! Did you hear me? she repeated harshly, Do you know who I am?

Sorry, Mademoiselle, I’m not aware of who you are. The parking lot is full, and you’ll have to move on, the valet said as he remained at strict attention. He proceeded to gesticulate again, asking her to move forward.

Liz then pulled a $50 bill out from her red Louis Vuitton purse sitting on the passenger seat, turned, and flashed it. She shrugs her left shoulder seductively as she tugged the front of her braless dress to reveal her breast slightly, gives him a wink with her left eye, and puts on her cat-like charm. Liz had always gotten her way with men. She knows how and what to do. Liz had charisma. She slowly inhales, pursed her lips, passionately exhaling, blowing her warm breath towards the valet as though she just had a romantic interlude. He smiled, leaned on her car, and placed his right elbow on the driver’s open side window. He looked straight at her, shrugged his right shoulder, moistened his lips, takes a deep breath, and exhaled slowly, blew straight into the vee opening of her revealed breast, winked with his right eye, and without saying a word, stood and pointed his finger at the common customer parking area.

He stepped back, in his customary formal manner, and spoke in a distinct military style, Mademoiselle, please move forward, or I’ll have you escorted away. In a soft coquet manner, Now move before I have you removed. He started to walk away, then stopped, turned, and with a stern voice, Get it…Mademoiselle?

Liz sat in her Ferrari for a few moments and felt annoyed by how a no-nothing valet abruptly commanded her of all people to move. She shook her head in implausible disbelief. How could someone, especially a doorman, speak to her in that demeanor. She could only think, How is this happening to me? She put her hand on her chest in dismay and took a few deep breaths to absorb what had happened. She doesn’t deal with being snubbed or rejected lightly, especially from someone like a low-life valet.

She put her Ferrari in gear, revved it up, and glared at him with her piercing blue eyes.

Hey valet, you’re a no-nothing wanna-be big guy, dreaming of laying someone like me, instead of opening my door, she flung her left forearm out the driver’s side window and proceeded to put her red-manicured middle finger up, waving it at him, as she slowly drove toward the standard parking lot. Finally, she yelled in a high pitch voice, Hey wanna-be big guy!

The standard lot was full, and she had to keep circling, waiting for a parking spot to open. Her anger heightened as time passed, knowing it was getting late, hoping to find a place so she could assist her best friend, Clara. After circling several times, she felt stressed and agitated. She made it a point to pass the valet, put her middle finger up and out the window, wave it to frustrate, and heckle him. Hey, you no-nothing wanna-be big man.

It was more than forty minutes before a vacant space became available. Liz drove her Ferrari to the backside of the nightclub, parked beside the wooded area next to the swan pond.

She raised and latched the top. Before engaging the car alarm, Liz needed to straighten her dress. She swung her long-tapered legs out of the low-sitting sports car. Sitting sideways, she reached for her shoes, as she never wore them driving her high-performance vehicle. Her heels have gotten damaged and caught under the gas pedal, nearly causing her an accident. After that near disaster, she never wore them again and acquired the habit of driving barefoot. She loved the feeling of her foot against the gas pedal, thinking it gave her more control. With a Ferrari, she needed to have command over the power.

She slid her feet into the ruby-red open-toed Louis Vuitton strapped stilettos and slowly stood up. Her tight-fitting white dress had several creases where the seatbelt had fastened, and she rubbed her hands down over her slender body, pressing out the wrinkles until they were unnoticeable. She then adjusted her breast in the front opening of her braless designer Kamali. She noticed her phone had fallen out of her purse and was on the passenger-side floor.

Just grab the damn thing and get going, she mumbled to herself. "It’s Clara’s debut, and she’s going to be spitting mad. Better get my ass in there to support my best friend. I’m late because of that low-life little man."

* * *

It was a serendipity evening for Clara, her band, and singing at the elegant Swan River Nightclub. She anxiously waited for Liz to help her with make-up and hair. Liz was talented at that sort of thing. She had once performed bit parts off-Broadway and decided it wasn’t for her. Liz liked to party and didn’t like performing Saturday nights, the early Sunday rehearsals, and double shows. She had an opportunity to go into real estate, and her career took off, making it big selling condos in the city. She was four years older than Clara and already well invested.

Clara was eager for Liz to see her private dressing room. She constantly belittled her for being a performer. It was the first time she had one with a lounge to herself, and the band had their own.

I finally made it. A private dressing table with make-up lights, a lounge, and a personal bathroom with a shower. Clara mumbled to herself, anxious for Liz to arrive, knowing she’ll respect her career more now than just being a singer and piano player.

It was almost time for her to go on stage. She checked the zipper on her gown. It always gets caught, and she struggles not to get it stuck. Clara couldn’t wait any longer, got dressed, and sat at the make-up table with the tri-fold mirror surrounded by bright light bulbs. She glanced at the wall clock, aware that time was ticking away.

What happened to Liz?

Her debut curtain call was getting close, and she knew it was time to apply her stage make-up. Clara’s mind was spinning, and she kept repeating to herself, Why did I ever think Liz would be on time? She has never been dependable. She told me she would do this for me.

Clara draped a towel around her shoulders and started to apply her make-up. Upon finishing, she looked in the tri-fold mirror and nodded with satisfaction.

Wow, not bad. I did good!

She couldn’t stop wondering why her best friend was late. Her mind was spinning, obsessed as to why Liz didn’t keep her promise. Clara’s curiosity got the best of her, and she went to the side stage and sneaked behind the long velvet drapes. She pulled one aside just enough to peek at the table she had reserved for Liz. There it was, the single yellow rose and an Apple Martini, Liz’s favorite. All Clara could think, Where the hell are you, Liz?

Clara hurried back to her dressing room, holding back the tears. Not wanting to ruin her make-up, She tried to compose herself, fluffed her hair, gave it a spray, straightened her gown, took a couple of deep breaths, moistened her throat with a few sips of water, and went to the side stage and waited for Ron to announce her opening song.

The band began the first set with an acoustic jam that set the audience up for their premier performance. Ron, the guitarist, walked to the mic, and Jimmy, the drummer, executed an exquisite drumroll.

Ladies and gentlemen, the star of our show, Claarrarraa!

The palpitations of stage fright Clara was experiencing were not a first for her. They started many years ago when she was young. Over the years, she learned how to deal with her anxiety. This time, her fear was from the stress of wondering the whereabouts of her best friend, Liz.

As she twirled onto the stage, Jimmy played his drum routine, announcing her entrance. Arms spread wide, she came on dancing and swirled around the entire stage in true Loretta Young style. As a little girl, watching the old Loretta Young television reruns with her mom, Clara loved how the actress entered the room when opening the door. She would twirl, and her dress would flare out in full circlets as she spread her arms and danced around the room. She’d practice from that time on, and Clara had decided to adopt Loretta Young.

She danced around the stage, looked over her shoulder, hoping to see Liz at the table she had reserved for her. Did she pick up a guy and forgot about the opening night? No, Liz would never do that to her!