“What seems to be the problem?” Clyde asked as though confronting a total stranger rather than someone he had a history with that he would just as soon forget.
“This dude looks like he’s got a death wish,” growled Raymond, gripping Willie firmly.
“Tell your brute to get his paws off me, man.” Willie shot Clyde a wicked gaze.
“Not a chance, asshole,” Raymond voiced.
The last thing Clyde wanted was to make a scene. Maybe if he spoke to Willie man-to-man, he would go away quietly.
Maybe.
Clyde made eye contact with Raymond. “Let him go.”
He did so reluctantly, but stayed within arm’s reach.
“What do you want, Willie?” Clyde asked tartly.
Willie stood mute with his mouth open in a sneer.
Raymond’s eyes widened. “You know this punk?”
“We go back a few years,” Clyde reluctantly admitted. That still was no reason for him to show his face there after Clyde had made it perfectly clear the last time they met that he didn’t want to see Willie again. Now he had to deal with it. “All right, Willie, you’ve got my attention. Say what you have to and get the hell out of my club!”
Willie glared. “Okay, I will,” he snapped. “You and me, we ain’t through yet. Playing Mr. Big Shot in this club ain’t gonna change nothing. It’s because of you I’m only seein’ out of one eye. That’s something I got to carry the rest of my life. If you think—”
“I think you need to get a life!” Clyde cut him off, having listened to enough. “Grow the hell up, Willie. We both know you should have spent time in prison too, but your ass was let off the hook. Now do us both a favor and leave me alone. I don’t want to see your face anymore!”
“What about what I want?” Willie spat, his mouth turned down menacingly.
“You won’t find it here,” Clyde insisted. “Whatever went down between us ended a long time ago. That’s where it stays!”
“Don’t bet on that!” Willie sputtered and lunged toward Clyde, but he was intercepted by the bigger Raymond.
“Get him out of here,” Clyde said simply and walked away without looking back.
“It’ll be my pleasure, man.”
Raymond, with the help of another burly member of the security staff, roughly ushered Willie out the door.
Clyde felt a tap on his shoulder a couple of minutes later. It was Raymond. “Got that problem taken care of.”
“Good.” Clyde could feel his heart pounding, riled up after being confronted by Willie and staring their sordid history squarely in the face.
“I take it that asshole is the same Willie responsible for your time in the pen?”
“Yeah, that was him. A bad dream that doesn’t seem to want to go away.”
“The worst kind.” Raymond scratched his chin. “Look, this is your night. Don’t let the dude spoil it. If he shows up again, I’ll take care of it.”
“I don’t need you to fight my battles,” Clyde said toughly, though appreciating his support.
“I know you don’t. But I owe you. We have to stick together, man. Can’t let some jerk holding a grudge bring you down.”
“I don’t intend to ever allow that to happen,” Clyde assured him. Not when he suddenly had so much more at stake than just his personal welfare. Only he feared that Willie Munroe was hell-bent on doing whatever he could to create havoc in his life.
I’ll stay on guard and deal with whatever comes my way. So long as Stefani doesn’t get hurt, or anyone else I’m close to.
Clyde managed to catch Stefani’s last song before the break, which got her a standing ovation. He found himself clapping too for this very talented woman who helped him forget about the darkness and hone in on the ray of light who suddenly made his life worth living.
Chapter Thirty-one
“How about a trip to Fiji or the Bahamas?” Stella suggested.
Trey looked up at her across his desk. “You think Ivana would like that as an anniversary present?”
“What woman wouldn’t want to escape to a tropical paradise?”
Trey liked the idea of it. He had to believe that spending some time on a beautiful, secluded island far away from home might be just what they needed to not only spice up their sex life, but continue the process of rebuilding their relationship. The fact that their anniversary was still a month away meant he had time for Ivana to get used to the idea.
“You could also consider taking Ivana on a cruise,” Stella offered. “There are some fantastic ones at this time of year, so long as she’s not prone to getting seasick.”
They had never gone on a cruise before. As far as Trey knew, Ivana had no problems with the water and getting seasick, having done a few modeling gigs out at sea. Perhaps a cruise could work as well.
“Those are all great suggestions,” he said. “I know Ivana’s always loved Hawaii. We went there the second year of our marriage. I know there are some Hawaiian cruises. Maybe we can take one and get double the pleasure.”
“Now you’re getting innovative, Trey.” Stella smiled at him. “Women love when their men take the initiative and do something really special.”
“I’ll make a note of that.” Trey imagined that with things going well with Clyde and his new lady, his brother might also benefit from a romantic getaway, something the old Clyde was too busy getting into trouble to ever consider. Wedding bells might not be that far off either, mused Trey. And children thereafter.
Trey considered that he and Ivana might try again to have a child. Whatever issues they had, he knew they would be great parents and brought a lot to the table in terms of passing on a legacy. Even adoption wasn’t out of the question. He wanted only to make Ivana happy and complete, whatever it took.
He turned his attention back to business and directed Stella to carry on with her thoughts before he had intruded in seeking a woman’s perspective on the perfect anniversary gift.
Clyde had his arm around Stefani as they sat in a movie theater, courtesy of Trey. The movie premiere, a thriller, was only so-so. He was far more interested in the woman beside him, who, in a short time, had become his best friend and lover, along with the star attraction at Clyde’s Jazz Club. He couldn’t have imagined a few short months ago that he would get out of prison and turn his life around to this degree.
I just pray I don’t wake up and find this whole thing has been a dream. Someone else’s dream.
Stefani grabbed a handful of popcorn and put some in Clyde’s mouth. She giggled as he chewed it and then kissed her. She looked super-sexy to him, even in a dark theater. He imagined peeling off her clothes and taking her right then and there. That was how much he had come to desire the woman, her scent, taste, feel—everything.
As far as Clyde was concerned, there was no limit to how far this relationship could go. He wouldn’t have it any other way. He sensed Stefani felt the same way, and that was enough for him to continue to do what he needed to make this work in every way.
“Can’t get into the movie either?” Clyde asked as they continued to smooch.
Stefani smiled. “Not really. Maybe we should cut this short and find something more entertaining to do with ourselves.”
“I’m with you there.” He could think of a few ways that might entertain him. Or should he say them.
They left the theater, hand in hand, and ended up going to a museum of natural history. This was followed by a Chinese restaurant, before going back to Clyde’s loft, where they made love for hours on end and never seemed to tire of satisfying one another.
The next day, Clyde invited Stefani to move into the loft, feeling he wanted to go to sleep at night and wake up every morning with her in his arms. She readily agreed, and he couldn’t have been happier. He saw no downside of living with someone he couldn’t seem to get enough of. He looked forward to sharing his space, while not crowding Stefani or taking away her freedom.
Though he had yet to say the words, there was little doubt in
Clyde’s mind that he had fallen in love with Stefani McNeal. And something told him that he and Stefani were very much on the same wavelength. In spite of this, Clyde treaded carefully, unwilling to jump the gun in moving too soon in what was uncharted territory for him.
Also standing in the way of his joy was the belief that Willie continued to lurk out there, looking for some sort of warped revenge. In the process, Clyde didn’t doubt the crazed man might try to go after Stefani in spite of being warned to stay away. Until he could be certain that Stefani would be safe from harm, Clyde felt it best to take a wait-and-see approach while being guardedly optimistic as to what the future held.
Ivana was drunk, and she didn’t deny it to herself or the housekeeper, Emily, who had made a habit of sticking her nose where it wasn’t wanted. At least not by Ivana. Fact was, the latest bout of drinking allowed her to forget everything not right about her life. She was a total screwup as a wife, potential mother, and ex-model who had always been a little insecure about her looks, even when others felt she was beautiful and perfectly proportioned. What did Trey see in her, anyway? Would he still feel the same if he knew her deepest secret?
None of it mattered, she told herself, sipping on another martini, the alcohol coursing down her throat and making her mellow. All she wanted to do now was sleep. Or was that too much to ask when she could barely make it to the stairwell without falling flat on her face?
Ivana suddenly threw the wineglass against the wall and watched it shatter. Emily came out of a room.
“I’ll clean that up,” she said.
“Forget the damned glass,” Ivana slurred. “I don’t need your pity.”
“I just want to help.”
“If I needed your help, I would ask for it,” Ivana said, trying to maintain her balance while feeling woozy.
“Do you want me to call Trey?” Emily voiced with concern.
“No, I don’t want you to call Trey,” Ivana said in a mimicking voice. “Just leave me alone.”
Ivana reached the stairs and somehow, some way, managed to reach the second floor and stumble to her room, unsure what to do next.
Trey was already on his way home when he got the call from Emily to say that Ivana was inebriated and, as she put it, “out of control.” He wondered what it was this time that had made her get wasted. Not that she needed a reason these days. Seemed like alcohol had become her best friend, and it was high time he did something about it, before she hurt herself. Not to mention destroy any chance they had to get their marriage where it should be and keep it there.
So much for talking about anniversary plans this evening, Trey thought, knowing Ivana likely wouldn’t remember in the morning.
When he entered the house, Emily was there to greet him.
“Where is she?” he asked succinctly.
“In her room. I didn’t dare go in there and have her bite my head off.”
“I understand,” Trey said. “Your housekeeping duties don’t include dealing with my wife’s alcohol problems.”
Emily filled him in on Ivana’s temper tantrum and other behavior while under the influence.
Trey heard all he needed to. He mounted the stairs for his confrontation with Ivana, wishing it hadn’t come to this, knowing he should have done something a long time ago.
He opened the door to the room they once shared and found Ivana passed out on the bed. But not before she had done a number on the bedroom, tossing items on the floor haphazardly as if searching for something she never found. Trey scooped her up into his arms and carried to the shower. She never woke up along the way, which pretty much put things in their proper perspective as far as he was concerned.
Continuing to hold her firmly, Trey cut on the cold water, bracing himself as it sprayed onto both of them. Ivana jumped when the water splashed into her face and over her body. Her eyes opened.
“What are you doing?” she screamed. “Let me go!”
“Not yet,” said Trey. “I want to make sure you’re at least halfway sober to hear what I have to say.”
Ivana fought to be released but Trey was too determined, ignoring her wailing and flailing. Finally when he felt his mission had been accomplished, he carried her back to the bedroom and tossed her onto the bed, soaked, as was he.
She glared. “Have you lost your mind? What the hell was that about?”
“It’s about you and your drinking,” he retorted. “It’s gone too damned far this time.”
Ivana looked around the room she had trashed. “I’ll clean it up—or get Emily to do it.”
“Forget about the damned room.”
She ignored this. “That bitch—she called you, didn’t she? I want her fired!”
“This isn’t about Emily,” Trey said. “And she’s not going anywhere. But you are.”
Worriment crossed Ivana’s face. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It’s means this has gone on long enough. You’re an alcoholic and it’s time we did something about it.” He paused, peering at her, wishing it hadn’t come down to this, but it had. “I want you to check yourself into a substance-abuse treatment center.”
“I’m not checking myself into any damned treatment center,” Ivana argued, “and I’m not an alcoholic.”
“You are and you will,” insisted Trey. “This isn’t up for debate.”
She flashed him an icy look. “Who made you my master?”
“I’m not your master. I’m your husband and I love you too much to let you kill yourself.”
“That won’t happen.”
“Damned right it won’t,” Trey told her. “Not if I have anything to do with it.”
“You can’t make me go somewhere I don’t want to go,” Ivana said hotly.
“Maybe not, but if you refuse . . .”
“Then what?” she challenged him.
Trey considered his next words carefully, knowing this could be a turning point in their relationship one way or the other. In the end, he had to take a stand that was in her best interests and his. “If you turn your back on getting professional help, then this marriage is over!”
Ivana swallowed nervously, “You don’t mean that?”
“Yes, I do,” he assured her painfully. “The choice is up to you.”
She got to her feet and met his gaze. “I can stop drinking, I swear, if you’ll help me. But here at home.”
Trey stood flat-footed as she wrapped her wet arms around his waist, laying her head on his chest. For an instant, he nearly succumbed to Ivana’s attempt to get him to back down and put his trust in her to do what she clearly was incapable of doing on her own. And he surely was not qualified to rid her body of the alcohol craving, even if he was with twenty-four/seven.
He pulled Ivana away and peered into her eyes. “The only way to get this under control is at a treatment center,” he told her. “I want the lady I married back, sober. It’s our only chance to make our marriage work for the long term. If you do this, you’ll prove to me that you’re as committed to that as I am. I’ll make some calls and find the right place for you.”
Trey kissed the top of her head. “Better get out of those wet clothes before you catch a cold. I’ll do the same.” He paused. “I love you.”
He left the room on that note, hopeful that she would do the right thing, and that they could successfully move on to the next chapter of their lives.
Chapter Thirty-two
Trey sat with Helene in a small café, drinking coffee and sharing in friendship the latest turn of events in his marriage. He welcomed the opportunity to discuss Ivana’s drinking problem with an outside person who had proven to him that she could be both objective and understanding.
“I had to twist Ivana’s arm, so to speak,” Trey finished his monologue, “but she’s agreed to seek treatment.”
“I recommend you try the Sea and Shore Retreat,” said Helene. “It’s a posh detox center in nearby Garden Hills. My brother spent time there to treat his alcohol addiction. He came out
a different man.”
“I want the same Ivana to come out—that is, the one I married who enjoyed a drink every now and then, but never used it as a crutch.”
“We all have our crutches, Trey. Alcohol is one of the easiest to lean on. I can only imagine how difficult it must have been to lose the child you both wanted. I don’t blame you for that, but some women are never the same thereafter.”
Trey gazed at her over his mug. “You’re saying Ivana may never be able to shake that, even if she’s no longer alcohol dependent?”
“Not at all,” Helene told him. “She won’t forget, but doesn’t mean she can’t keep put it behind her. She’s still a young and generally healthy woman, from what you tell me. There’s no reason why you can’t take another crack at having a child.”
“I’d like that,” Trey said. “Once this ordeal is over, Ivana and I can talk about trying again.”
“Grant and I may be headed in that direction too.”
“Oh, really?” Trey’s head lifted. Somehow he hadn’t thought Grant DeCroch would be interested in having any more children, seeing that he already had two adult ones from a previous marriage.
“We’re exploring the possibility,” Helene stated. “If it’s to happen at all, we’d want it before Grant reaches the point where he feels he’d be too old to appreciate being a father again.”
“Thankfully I’ve got a lot of years left on me to take up that role,” Trey said dreamily. “But first things first. We have to get Ivana sober and take it from there.”
“I really hope it works out for both of you. It’s obvious how you feel about Ivana, and I’m sure her feelings are just as strong for you. Every marriage hits a few snags, mine included. That’s what love is all about—being able to forgive each other and remember what brought you together in the first place.”
“I agree.” Trey sat down his coffee and smiled. “We’ll be all right. I’ll give this Sea and Shore Retreat a ring and go from there.”
He wanted Ivana to have the very best in treatment and comforts during her stay. But he also wanted it to be as short as possible so they could take the next steps in their marriage and future.
The Secrets of Paradise Bay Page 21