Free The Secrets of Paradise Bay by Devon Vaughn Archer Page B

yesterday, Fred. I don’t want to hear your lame excuses. Just get it done!”
    She cut the conversation short when noticing Trey and Clyde.
    â€œStella, this is my brother, Clyde,” Trey introduced. “Stella Rockwell is my assistant manager. She’s been with us from the very beginning.”
    Stella got out from behind her desk. “Nice to meet you, Clyde.”
    â€œSame here.” While shaking hands, he briefly studied the forty-something, medium-sized woman sporting a dark-kinky twist, and silver glasses.
    â€œClyde’s going to be working with us,” Trey said.
    â€œOh?” Stella was clearly surprised.
    â€œYes. He’ll take Larry’s office.”
    â€œUh, all right,” she muttered. Her phone rang. “I have to get that.”
    â€œDon’t let us stop you,” Trey said.
    Stella gave him a dirty look and said to Clyde, “I’ll talk to you later.”
    â€œSure.” In the corridor Clyde said uneasily, “That seemed to go over well.”
    Trey half smiled. “Don’t worry about it. Stella’s just having one of her moods. Sometimes I think she takes this job way too seriously.”
    â€œYeah, sounds like someone else I know,” cracked Clyde.
    Trey pulled his nose wryly. “You think?”
    â€œIt’s probably infectious around here. So who’s this Larry anyway?”
    Trey led them into a corner office. “He used to work here as our sales manager—’til I had to let him go for spending too much work time on the Internet in porn sites.”
    Clyde couldn’t help but chuckle. “Guess he found something there he wasn’t getting elsewhere.”
    â€œMaybe,” conceded Trey. “No substitute for the real thing, as far as I’m concerned.”
    â€œTrue,” Clyde said, wondering when that might come his way.
    â€œAnyway, that’s his problem, and this is your office.”
    Clyde looked around, feeling not too surprisingly out of place. He kept it to himself. “I’ll try not to let you down.”
    â€œYou won’t,” Trey said confidently. “More importantly, Clyde, try not to let yourself down. This is a chance for you to step up to the plate and make it count.”
    That’s what I’m afraid of , thought Clyde, striking out and ending up back where I started . Not if he could help it. He only wanted his piece of the pie. Maybe a little more.
    He just wasn’t sure he’d find it there.
    Ivana went shopping at a fashionable boutique for some new clothes, simply because she could. Ever since her modeling days, she’d appreciated wearing the top designer clothing. She used to wear either to impress or because they made her feel beautiful and sexy. Now it was all about buying what her husband could afford and replacing those clothes that had become too large or hopelessly outdated.
    She noticed an attractive African American woman around her age with a baby stroller. The little girl inside had to be around six months old. She was pretty, with loads of dark hair. It made Ivana think about how nice it would have been had Catherine been born a healthy child with a bright future ahead.
    The thought was depressing, making Ivana long for a martini to soothe her nerves and make her forget. At least for a short while.
    She stopped at a nearby lounge for a few drinks—three or four, she’d lost count. That didn’t prevent her from wanting another before heading home. Only the bartendar seemed to have a problem with that.
    â€œSorry, ma’am, but I think you’ve reached your limit.”
    â€œI think I haven’t,” Ivana retorted. “Give me another martini now!”
    â€œNo can do,” the man insisted. “You need to go home now.

    Better yet, maybe I can call you a cab?”

    â€œEither you give me a drink or I’ll get it myself,” Ivana slurred the words.
    â€œI don’t think so. We