The Secrets of Paradise Bay (11 page)

“How are you getting along in the free world?” Raymond asked Clyde over the phone.

Clyde was walking though his brother's enormous home, still trying to figure out one way from the next.

“It's good, man,” he answered, even if far from perfect thus far.

“What exactly does
good
mean?”

“Means it sure the hell beats being where you're at,” Clyde gave a simple answer.

Raymond took a breath. “Yeah, I heard that.”

Clyde passed by Trey and Ivana in the living room, which, by the look of them, almost seemed as if they had heard it too. He waited 'til getting out of ear range before saying in an undertone, “You only have, what, six weeks before you get to taste freedom yourself? It'll be here before you know it.”

“I keep telling myself that. Helps the time go by faster.”

“Yeah, been there, done that.” Clyde stepped outside and let the afternoon sun bear down on his face.

“Still working for your brother?”

“Yeah,” Clyde said reluctantly.

“Don't sound like you're where you want to be.”

“I'm not,” he admitted. Not by a long shot. “Just biding my time 'til something better comes along.”

“You mean like us going into business together?” Raymond posed.

“Yeah, something like that.”

“Cool. I think if we put our minds together, we can do something that'll bring in some bucks and keep us far away from this place.”

“Sounds good.” Clyde wanted nothing more than to go into business with or without Raymond. He was still short on capital, but long on ideas. At this point, all he could do was keep dreaming, and maybe something good would come out of it.

“Are you banging anyone yet?” Raymond asked straightforwardly.

“No, can't say that I am,” Clyde replied honestly. Not that the thought hadn't entered his head. Or the opportunity hadn't presented itself.

“You can't be serious? All those fine, sex-starved broads out there and you still haven't scored?”

Clyde chuckled. “There's definitely some hot babes out here—but my mind's been on other things.”

“Like what?”

“Like just trying to adjust. There's plenty of time to get a woman. When I do, I want it to be someone who means something to me other than an hour or two in the sack.”

“Helluva lot more willpower than I do. I'll take an hour—make that all damned night long—with a woman as soon as I can get one, and worry about the
means something
bit later.”

Clyde laughed. He used to think that way too. Still did to some degree. He thought about Ivana. He'd love to take her to bed, sure she would warm up the sheets in a hurry, if not set them on fire. Especially if she wasn't putting out for Trey. But where would that leave him once the dust settled? There could be no future for them. Trey would never part with her, if he read his brother correctly, even if things continued to be strained between him and Ivana to the point of no return. Not that Clyde would necessarily want that. Better to fantasize about Ivana than to act upon dangerous temptation.

“Just take it nice and slow, Raymond,” Clyde advised him. “I'm sure she'll appreciate it even if you don't.”

“I'll make sure she does,” he said with a snicker. “Been waiting for that moment a long time now. When it comes, I'll definitely cherish every second.”

So will I.
Clyde wondered when that time would come and if it would mean as much afterwards.

Trey could tell by the gist of Clyde's phone conversation he was talking to one of his prison buddies. Big mistake. Cavorting with bad elements—even those still locked away—was not in Clyde's best interests. If he was too caught up in nostalgia to see that, it was up to Trey to set him straight, without seeming like he was meddling.

Trey shared his feelings with Ivana, as they were spending what had been a relatively quiet time together before Clyde stepped in.

“Your brother's a grown man,” she said sharply. “Maybe it's time you let him run his own life.”

Trey begged to differ. “If someone had stepped in sooner when Clyde was heading down the wrong path, it might have made a difference,” he reasoned. Not that he hadn't tried to offer his two cents before. Only Clyde wouldn't listen. Would it be any different now? If not, what would come next—reuniting with his old crony-turned-enemy Willie Munroe?

“Or it may have made no difference at all,” Ivana retorted . “People have to make their own mistakes in life.”

“Says who?” Trey looked at her over the kitchen counter-top. “Why make blunders now only to regret later, if you can change things?”

Ivana regarded him with asperity. “Will you listen to yourself? You aren't your brother's keeper, even if you'd like to think so. Maybe you need to put your
own
house in order, before you try to micromanage someone else's.”

“It's not about micromanaging Clyde's life,” Trey insisted, ignoring the jab at him. “All I'm trying to do is keep him from making the same poor choices that he made before.”

“That's not up to you to decide.”

Trey took a deep breath, deciding this was one debate he probably couldn't win. Since when had she taken it upon herself to stick up for Clyde? As if his brother couldn't fend for himself.

“Am I intruding on something?” Clyde asked, walking into the kitchen.

Trey's eyes turned to him. How much had he heard?

“You weren't intruding on anything,” Trey told Clyde. “We were just having a little husband-and-wife disagreement. Everything's cool.”

Clyde stood mute, shifting his eyes from one to the other, making Trey more than a little curious as to what was going on in that head of his. Maybe Clyde would fill him in.

“Well, I'm going to go take a shower,” Clyde said, meeting Trey's gaze. “See you in a bit.”

“We'll be here.” Trey watched him walk away, and couldn't help but wonder what the future held for his kid brother. Not to mention for him and Ivana. Though they still had their good and bad days, Trey wanted to believe that all the negative stuff he and Ivana had gone through lately would pass. With their anniversary fast approaching, maybe they could do something special to celebrate the occasion and reignite their passions.

 

 

The Violet Supper Club was on Paradise Bay's posh east end and featured a piano player every night. Trey, Ivana, and Clyde sat at a table, enjoying the prize-winning cuisine and instrumental standards. The owner, a customer and friend of Trey's, had invited them. Trey was glad that for once he, his wife, and brother were all on the same page, wanting to have a good time without the drama.

“How's everyone doing this evening?” asked Blake Lewis, the owner of the club.

“Terrific,” Trey responded, looking up at the sixty-something, tall, thin man, impeccably dressed as always in a double-breasted dark suit. He was aware that Blake was closing down his business at the end of year and heading to Florida for retirement.

Clyde and Ivana voiced the same sentiments and Blake smiled. “Now that's the way to go out, with nothing but satisfied clientele.”

“It's not too late to change your mind,” Trey said. “This town won't be the same without you.”

Blake shrugged. “I doubt that. Fact is, I'm getting too damned old for this business. And supper clubs just ain't packing them in the way they used to. Probably because the hip-hop generation is taking over the music scene, if not great eateries. Besides, my wife's been bugging me to smell the roses before they end up on my grave. It's time I started listening to her.”

“Can't argue with that philosophy,” Trey said, glancing at Ivana and conceding that he had not listened to her as much as he should. He wondered if it was too late to open his ears and mind to what she had to say. “Well, I'm definitely going to miss you, Blake.”

“Don't count me out yet. I'll still be around for a few more months. 'Til then, you and your family are welcome here anytime.”

“Thanks, Blake.” Trey felt the genuineness of the man and would truly be sorry to see him leave. His place was a landmark in Paradise Bay and would be hard to replace.

“In laying out the welcome mat so sweetly, Blake, we'll definitely take you up on that,” Ivana said, smiling at him as he walked away. She sipped Pinot Noir, admittedly feeling a bit tipsy. She was sitting between Trey and Clyde and found herself tilted slightly toward Clyde, picking up the scent of Obsession he wore. Ivana wondered if he realized just how turned on she was by his powerful, manly presence. Or had she allowed just enough distance to keep him—and Trey—totally in the dark?

When Clyde looked her way, Ivana averted her eyes and pretended to be focused on the piano player. Only when she sensed that Clyde had turned his attention elsewhere did she once again admire him. Maybe if she had met Trey's brother first, her life might have turned out differently. Or would he too have betrayed her and fallen into the arms of another woman?

Certainly Clyde had not shown himself to be a man who couldn't control his sexual impulses. Perhaps prison life had trained him to show restraint in going after what he wanted. Ivana pictured him as a patient lover who was as thorough as utterly demanding.

Ivana felt herself get aroused, and suppressed it while regarding Trey. He seemed heavy in thought. Perhaps he was thinking about his businesses and ways to make more money, which seemed to occupy much of his waking hours. Or was he remembering his time spent in bed with Helene DeCroch and wishing she were with him tonight instead of his wife?

The mere thought rankled Ivana. She finished off her wine and turned to Clyde. “Would you mind ordering me another drink?”

He glanced at Trey. “If you like.”

She chuckled. “Yes, I like.”
I like you as the bad-boy brother, who exudes sexuality
.

“Maybe you've had enough,” Trey said, giving her a stern look.

“I'm not drunk, if that's what you're trying to say,” she lied. “Just trying to enjoy the evening as you promised.”

“Let's not make a scene, Ivana.”

“I won't if you don't,” she retorted. “I'm a grown woman, and capable of deciding for myself when I've had enough.”

Trey frowned at her, “I don't think you are—not tonight.”

Ivana eyed Clyde, sensing he was not eager to go against his brother in this instance, though she had little doubt that the more muscular Clyde could kick Trey's ass anytime he wanted. After all, wasn't that how he wound up behind bars?

She sneered at Trey, backing down. “Just forget it.”

“It's forgotten,” he said, seemingly pleased with himself.

“Think I'll go to the ladies' room, if it's all right with you?”

Ivana got up, half expecting him to follow her as she sat on the toilet. Her eyes met Clyde's, and Ivana imagined him joining her in the stall for some dirty sex. It turned her on.

Inside the bathroom, Ivana removed the flask of liquor from her handbag and downed a generous amount, feeling it drain down her throat. She felt a sense of triumph in that moment, as well as sadness.

 

 

Clyde tasted his drink, feeling the friction between Ivana and Trey, even when they tried to sweep it under the rug. He regarded his brother as they sat alone. “Is she going to be all right?”

“She'll be fine,” Trey answered tersely. “Ivana's never been able to hold her liquor very well, causing her to act bitchy at times. I admit it's gotten worse since the miscarriage.”

Clyde thought about picking her up while inebriated. “What do you plan to do about it?”

“I guess bringing her to an establishment that serves alcohol probably wasn't the brightest idea,” Trey said glumly.

“Practically every place serves alcohol. If you think she needs professional help, maybe you should suggest it.”

“Maybe I will. And hope she's in a mood to listen.”

Clyde watched Trey retreat to his own inner demons, then turned his thoughts to Ivana. Whatever issues she and Trey were going through, there was no denying the strong sexual vibes between him and his sister-in-law. Even right under Trey's nose. Clyde believed Ivana's libido was in overdrive, just like his. She was obviously not getting what she needed in bed from Trey. He wondered if his brother was still hung up on Helene DeCroch, though Trey insisted otherwise.

As much as Clyde tried to tell himself it was in his best interest to stay on the sidelines and let them work it out, he was beginning to believe otherwise. By living with his brother and sister-in-law, they had made him a part of their world, whether he liked it or not. Part of him admittedly got some sort of perverse thrill in knowing that Trey's ideal life had some serious potholes in it. The other side of Clyde, perhaps the dominant one, had no interest in coming between them, and only wanted Trey and Ivana to work out their differences and be happy.