The Secrets of Paradise Bay

by Devon Vaughn Archer

Genres: Urban Fantasy

Synopsis

Former international model Ivana Kendall-Lancaster gives it all up to marry the love of her life, Trey, and settle into Paradise Bay, Oregon. She never expected him to be unfaithful, but when the worst happens, she isn't sure that anything can repair the mistrust and pain she feels.
Trey Lancaster is living a life of wealth and leisure, but all is far from perfect in his world. After an affair with the wife of a wealthy client, he's desperately trying to get past this moment of weakness, knowing that he loves his wife more than anything.
Trey's brother, Clyde, enters the picture. Newly released from prison, he carries a dark secret that links his crime to Trey. It doesn't take long for a sex-starved Clyde and a wounded Ivana to become attracted to one another. This attraction turns into one night of forbidden sexual relations.
Feeling guilty for betraying Trey, Clyde tries to distance himself. Ivana is left confused and unsure what—or whom—she wants. As the brothers try to come to terms with their issues, a dangerous man from Clyde's past with a score to settle puts the brothers and Ivana in harm's way.
Can Ivana and Trey find their way back to each other, or will tragedy forever keep them apart?

Release date: October 28, 2014

Publisher: Urban Books

Print pages: 352

Sample

“Are you crazy?” Ivana Kendall-Lancaster glared at her husband with bloodshot green-brown eyes. She sipped on a chocolate raspberry martini while standing in the gourmet kitchen of their three-million-dollar house.

Trey Lancaster didn’t expect this to be easy, but it had to be said. Hopefully she would be reasonable when all was said and done. He wasn’t counting on that.

“Not crazy,” he responded calmly.

She regarded him petulantly and slurred, “Well, you’re sure talking like you are.”

Trey wondered if this was her third, fourth, or fifth drink. Seemed like his wife had become an alcoholic, even if neither of them would face up to it. He took the blame for this, wishing to hell he could do things over. Or better yet, not do them at all. He’d messed up by having an affair six months ago. Ivana had a miscarriage shortly after he came clean about it, and had been on a downslide ever since. She’d never forgiven him for, as she put it, “destroying my faith in you.”

Trey hadn’t exactly forgiven himself for the loss of their child and trust of his wife. The doctor had assured him that, medically speaking, the miscarriage could not have resulted from emotional trauma, and Ivana understood this too. But this did little to make either of them not feel that had he stayed true to the marriage or kept his mouth shut, just maybe things would have turned out differently.

Right now he wanted desperately to try to put the past behind them and rebuild their lives. Hadn’t he been punished enough for his sins? He feared that they were close to reaching a point of no return.

Even with those thoughts, Trey knew that what he was proposing would likely drive a bigger wedge between them. But it was something he felt strongly about, if for no other reason than family loyalty. And maybe guilt that he hadn’t always been there for his kid brother, possibly contributing to his stint behind bars.

Trey gazed at the beautiful, flawless face that reminded him of a young Tyra Banks. Like her, Ivana had been a top international model before he swept her off her feet and fell in love. She had given up the profession to become the wife of a multimillionaire owner of a string of car dealerships in the Pacific Northwest, including two in Paradise Bay, Oregon, where they lived. Since then, they had added more dealerships and a few movie theaters to their net worth, along with the usual stocks, bonds, CDs, and real estate investments.

But none of that seemed to matter at the moment. What did was the decision he’d made, and Trey saw no turning back, all things considered.

“Clyde’s my brother,” he spoke in a firm voice.

Ivana’s small nostrils flared. “He’s a violent criminal, Trey, and I don’t want him in this house!”

“That’s all behind him now,” Trey insisted. “Or soon will be.”

Ivana rolled her eyes. “I don’t think so. People like your brother never change. They only end up repeating history. Well, let him do it somewhere else.”

Trey was hard-pressed for words as he watched her storm out of the kitchen, martini in hand. He resisted the temptation to fix himself a drink, preferring to have a clear mind as they dealt with what was obviously a sensitive subject all the way around.

Ivana felt the coldness on her bare feet as she moved across the Brazilian eucalyptus hardwood floor in the great room. It had all the trappings of success, including European custom-made furniture, a home theater, commissioned oil paintings, and a huge picture window with breathtaking views of the bay and Cascade Mountains. She looked back, certain Trey would be hot on her heels. He had uncharacteristically chosen to remain in the kitchen for whatever reason.

Ivana didn’t expect it to end there, knowing Trey could be just as stubborn as she was. She supposed that was one of the things that attracted her to him in the beginning—his strong will. But she didn’t want to give in easily to the notion of allowing a convicted felon to live under her roof, coming and going as he pleased. Even if it was her husband’s own flesh and blood.

Ivana had never met Trey’s brother, Clyde, as he’d been in the state penitentiary for a violent assault against a man before she ever came into the picture. Trey had never talked much about him, as if a dark family secret should remain that way. Now that Clyde was about to be released from prison, suddenly Trey wanted his brother to stay with them for who knew how long. How would Trey feel if the violence in Clyde was directed against his own wife? Did he really want to put her in that position?

Ivana could only wonder just what her husband was thinking with this cockamamy idea. She heard movement and turned to see Trey walking toward her. Sucking in a deep breath, she flopped onto a white custom-made Scandinavian sofa and braced herself for what she suspected would be another plea to take in his brother like a stray dog, even if rabid.

Trey knew Ivana was pissed at him. Resisting the effort to put his brother up was a way to express this. He was also aware that Clyde had nowhere else to go and no one to help him get back on his feet after spending nine long years in prison. It still angered Trey to no end to know that Clyde had damned near beat a man to death. And for what: an argument or something to that effect? Clyde had never been exactly clear on the specifics. Only that he and the person he’d fought, Willie Munroe, had been best friends ’til that night when they came to blows. Trey blamed it largely on Clyde, and for good reason. He had talked to Clyde time and time again about his temper and hanging out with the wrong crowd. But Clyde, two years younger, had rejected his wisdom as holier than thou or too straight and narrow for his taste, and went about his business on the wrong path in life.

That had not only cost him his freedom, but made him unable to attend their mother’s funeral five years ago. Her sudden death had stunned Trey, leaving him without his biggest supporter and the one person who had always given him and Clyde unconditional love. It was even harder knowing that she had not lived long enough to see Clyde turn his life around.

Maybe he never would.

Trey wondered if it was possible that the two of them could even get along, much less live under the same roof. Ever since they were kids, he and his brother had never truly been on the same page. Or even the same book. Was there any reason to believe it would be different this time—even if Clyde was starved for freedom and a comfortable bed? Probably not. Trey was willing to put forth the real effort nevertheless. But he wanted his wife onboard to present a united front.

Can she get past feeling sorry for herself and hating me to think about someone else for once in her life?

“Give him a chance, that’s all I ask,” Trey said, standing behind her. He grabbed hold of some of Ivana’s lovable long, cappuccino Senegalese twisted hair. “Clyde’s done his time, or nearly, and deserves to be given an opportunity to get his life back in order.”

“And what if he doesn’t?” Ivana whipped her hair away from him. “If your brother goes back to a life of crime and violence and maybe brings it into this house, are you prepared to deal with the consequences?”

Trey contemplated the question. Frankly, he had no idea how this would work, or if Clyde had been in prison too long to know what to do in the free world. Wasn’t the rate of recidivism high among violent ex-cons? What if that damned temper of Clyde’s was still like dynamite, capable of going off at any given moment? Could he actually hurt someone again—even Ivana?

It was a chance Trey was willing to take, wanting to give his brother the benefit of the doubt. If he turned his back on Clyde now, there might never be another opportunity to try to make things right between them.

“Yeah, I’m prepared for whatever happens,” he said, sounding as sincere as possible. “I’d rather look at the glass half-full and take the man at his word when he told me in the letter that he doesn’t want to cause either of us or himself any trouble. I’m sure once you get to know him, you’ll see that Clyde has changed for the better.”

“If you say so.”

“We’re good with this, then?” Trey asked.

Ivana paused. “Since it looks liked you’ve already decided for us, let him come and we’ll see how it goes.”

Trey took that as her indication that she would at least try to make this work. He kissed the top of her head. “You won’t regret it.”

She offered no response.

Ivana wanted to protest more, but was sure it would only fall on deaf ears. Trey was determined to disrupt their peaceful and relatively uncomplicated household regardless of what she had to say. And why? For a brother he’d never gone to see in prison a single time since she had known Trey. Was that supposed to be tough love, or what?

Seemed to Ivana that Trey was in denial about his brother and the risk he was taking by inviting him into their home. She wouldn’t be surprised if Clyde robbed them blind and took off for who-knows-where. Not if she could help it. Trey had already caused her enough pain all on his own. He had also taken away her sex drive, which was once strong enough to keep her man happy all the time. She had little desire to have multiple orgasms with someone who saw fit to give them to another woman, as if he were not getting enough at home—wanting his cake and eating it too. Like most men, Trey chose to think with his penis rather than head, heart, and soul.

Ivana would be damned if she allowed what she had left in their marriage—this big, beautiful home and at least half of a considerable fortune—to be taken away from her by Clyde Lancaster or anyone else.

She finished off her martini and began to strategize how best to deal with this unwanted guest.

Half an hour later, Trey stood outside Ivana’s bedroom door. They had slept in separate rooms for the last six months. It was Ivana’s choice and, though he hated it, he agreed to give her the space she needed.

But Trey was still a man and had needs that went beyond simply having mechanical sex every now and then at his initiation with a wife who could clearly take or leave it—mostly the latter. He wanted things to be like they were before, when they were passionate about each other and made love with mutual zest and unbridled desire. He couldn’t and wouldn’t force the issue, though. It took two to make it work, yet only one seemed ready and willing to move things in the right direction.

Trey knocked gently on the door. “Are you asleep, Ivana?” He could hear her HDTV and assumed the martinis had knocked his wife out.

“What do you want?” she asked coldly.

You. And only you, baby. He twisted the brass knob ’til the door opened.

Ivana was sitting up on her four-poster bed in a silk teddy, her long legs straight with feet touching. An open magazine sat on her lap like a prop.

“I don’t recall inviting you in.” She fluttered curly lashes at him with annoyance across the long, rectangular split-level room.

Trey ignored this and approached her. She looked sexy as hell and he wanted nothing more than to take Ivana in his arms and make passionate love to her for hours on end. Instead he showed the type of restraint he’d grown accustomed to since she turned her back on their love life.

“I thought you might want some company.”

“I’m not really in the mood for sex, if that’s what you’re getting at.” Ivana flipped the magazine pages dismissively.

His brows knitted. “When are you ever in the mood these days?”

She shot him a hard look. “Never, okay? And ask yourself why!”

Trey ran a hand through his closely cropped ebony hair, feeling frustrated. “I made a mistake and I owned up to it like a man. Don’t you think you’ve punished me enough?”

Ivana slammed the magazine shut. “This isn’t about punishing you.”

“Then what the hell is it about?”

“It’s about reaching a point where I feel I can trust you again,” she responded frankly. “I’m just not there yet.”

Trey wanted to reach out and touch her soft skin, but he held back. “We can’t go on like this, Ivana. I need you to want me as your husband and not simply as a damned housemate in a very big house where we can avoid each other whenever possible.”

Ivana narrowed her eyes. “So now I’m to blame for something you did?”

“No one’s blaming you for anything. I take full responsibility for that. But you can’t keep holding this thing over me. It’s not fair to either of us.”

“You want to talk about fair? Is it fair that I gave up my life for you, Trey? I didn’t deserve to be so hurt and humiliated.”

“You’re right, you didn’t,” he conceded sadly. “If I could take it back, I would, a thousand times over.”

“But you can’t, can you? What’s done is done and nothing can change it.”

Trey drew a deep breath. “So what is it you want—a divorce?” The mere thought of losing what they had built together to a piece of legal paper unnerved him, knowing it would be costly to them both in more ways than one.

Ivana’s eyes watered. “I just want to be happy again.”

“So do I,” he insisted. “No reason why we can’t both still be happy with each other if you’ll only meet me halfway.”

She wiped her eyes. “I married you out of love, Trey. I still want it to work between us. Just give me more time. . . .”

Trey touched her warm thigh and felt aroused. “I need you, baby.”

Ivana flinched. “If you want to have sex, regardless of my feelings, just say so.” She opened her legs as though preparing to accommodate him.

Why does she have to make this so damned hard? “It’s not just about sex.”

He could feel her stiffening beneath his touch, and he pulled away.

“It’s always about sex!” she said tartly. “That’s why you ended up in another woman’s bed. You can’t deny that. So let’s just get it over with.”

Trey gritted his teeth. “I’m not a damned pimp, and you’re not a whore!”

Ivana sneered. “I’m the wife of a man who wants to be inside me whether I’m into it or not. What’s the difference?”

Trey’s anger threatened to boil over. He managed to control it, realizing he’d been his own worst enemy and was now paying the price in a big way. He had to take Ivana at her word and believe that with time she would come around and they could be a loving couple again in every sense of the word. To think otherwise would tear him apart.

Right now, he just needed to keep his head together and at least try to pretend things were fine in his personal life. With Clyde coming tomorrow, the last thing his brother needed was to enter a household beset with stress and strain, while trying to start life over without feeling he was walking on eggshells.

Trey shot Ivana a hard look. “I’ve never forced you into doing anything you didn’t want to, and I’m not about to start now. I’ll leave you to your magazine, or whatever.” He didn’t bother to wait and see if Ivana had second thoughts, wanting only to get the hell out of there before either ended up saying something they truly regretted.

It was only after he was out in the hall that Trey began to seriously wonder if they could ever get past the one mistake he’d made. Or was this marriage doomed no matter what?

Ivana watched as Trey left the room without looking back. She had thought he would try a bit harder to spend the night in her bed, but was grateful he apparently got the message.

Damn you, Trey, for being so cool under a fire of your own making.

Ivana threw the magazine on the floor, putting her hands to her face to have a good cry. She didn’t want to live like this any more than Trey did. But she couldn’t simply turn off how she felt just because he wanted her to.

Why did you betray my trust? How can I make myself not hate you more than I love you right now?

Ivana ran thin fingers across her high cheeks to remove the tears. Now was not the time to pity herself. Trey’s brother was coming, and whether she liked it or not, she was determined to at least keep up appearances. After all, this was only a temporary thing. Or so Trey promised. The sooner they pacified Clyde with the welcome mat after his years behind bars, the sooner he would get tired of it and they could send him on his merry way.

Ivana grabbed the remote and cut the TV off. She got out of bed and sauntered into the hall, looking in both directions for any sign of movement.

After determining that Trey was in his shower, Ivana went downstairs and fixed herself a drink. Thank goodness the hired help was not around to snoop and report back to her husband. She downed the martini in one easy swallow and made another for good measure.

“Last night for you,” Raymond Gunfrey tsked from the top bunk bed. “Bet you won’t be able to sleep a wink.”

“I’ll sleep just fine,” Clyde Lancaster told his cell mate. Yeah, right. How could he even think about sleeping when he was mere hours away from freedom at long last? After spending the better part of nine years incarcerated, the last thing Clyde wanted was to waste one moment unconscious.

He looked up through the darkness at the underside of the bed above, weighed down by Raymond’s hefty frame. It was something Clyde had gotten used to for five years now and was glad it was almost over—taking nothing away from Raymond. After a rough start, he’d become good friends with the man who was probably the one person on the inside who kept Clyde sane.

“When you’re out, be sure to tell the ladies I said hello,” Raymond said.

“You’ll be able to tell them yourself soon enough. Three months and you’re out of here too.”

“It’s seventy-eight days, to be exact. And, believe me, they can’t come soon enough.”

Clyde scratched the stubble on his chin. “Tell me about it.”

Raymond was serving time for armed robbery. Clyde had seen a big change in the man over the years. Still had a hard edge to him, but it was no longer channeled in the wrong direction. This was something Clyde could relate to. He wasn’t looking for more trouble, only a chance to make something useful out of his life while he still had one to live.

“Hey, you awake, Raymond?” Clyde asked an hour later.

“Am now.” He stirred groggily. “What’s up?”

“Just do me a favor, man.”

“All you got to do is ask,” Raymond said.

“Promise me you won’t do something crazy like kick your new cell mate’s ass when I’m out of here—meaning you extend your stay as the State’s guest for no good reason.”

Raymond laughed humorlessly. “You got my word on that. I won’t do nothin’ to jeopardize my release. Besides, I’ve got something to look forward to once I get outta here. Or was that just prison talk about you and me going into business together?”

“Not just talk,” Clyde replied thoughtfully. “When you’re out, look me up and we’ll see what we can do to put some honest cash in both our pockets.”

“Count on it. After surviving this hellish jungle, we can probably do whatever we set our minds to out there.”

“Yeah.”

Clyde turned on his side and wondered about that. Was there really an opportunity to better his life in the real world? Or would it be even harder to get past the barriers separating the haves and have-nots? Had people like his rich brother gobbled up all the roads leading to the good life, leaving nothing but leftovers for those on the outside looking in who only wanted a fair chance to make it?

Clyde thought about his brother. Trey Lancaster was one of the most successful African American men in Paradise Bay, if not the entire country. He’d read more than his share of articles in the business and community sections of the newspaper about Trey. Even caught him on TV once or twice. Seemed like his brother had the Midas touch when it came to making loads of money and leading a life of comfort and envy.

Trey was a ladies man, too. Or at least one lady. His older brother had gotten married a while back, Clyde mused, having seen a photo of Trey’s bride. From all indications, it was a good marriage and Trey was damned lucky to have the eye-catching former model as his bride. Or was it the other way around?

He and Trey had exchanged a few letters recently, which Clyde found uplifting, even if they never really said much to each other as if to risk ruining a good thing. When Trey had offered to put him up ’til he got back on his feet, the pride in Clyde wanted nothing to do with his brother’s charity and pity. But the wiser part of him realized it would have been foolish to let pride stand in the way of common sense. Why not live in the lap of luxury for a taste of how the other side existed? As soon as he could, Clyde planned to be out of there and into a place of his own.

Closing his eyes as though he could shut off troubling thoughts, Clyde lay on his back again. His one major regret in being behind bars was missing his mother’s funeral. He’d wanted to pay his respects to the only person who ever truly cared about him no matter his faults, but the prison turned down this request, not giving a damn as to how much it meant to him.

Sorry, Mama. I know I let you down. Wish I could’ve been more like Trey instead of the black sheep of the family. But I’ve changed after being stuck in this hellhole. Hopefully for the better. I’d like to still make you proud someday.

Clyde found his mind wandering to a secret he’d taken with him to prison and probably would to his own grave. It pertained to the very reason he was sent up the river and robbed of nine precious years of his life.

Hanging out with Willie Munroe back in the day had proven to be the worst mistake of Clyde’s life, causing him nothing but trouble. All they did was get high and steal from other thieves and petty hoodlums. Then the moment that changed Clyde’s life forever came when Willie decided to up the ante. He planned to go solo, breaking into Trey’s place, figuring he could come away with enough to finance his drug habit and a whole lot more.

Though Clyde felt it just might teach Trey the lesson that he could be brought down to earth in a hurry like anybody else, the man was still his brother. He tried to stop Willie from targeting Trey, or at least persuade him that Trey was off limits.

But Willie begged to differ, rejecting any change to his plans. The two of them came to blows. And more blows. While Clyde ended up with cracked ribs and a broken nose, Willie suffered far more. He’d gotten a concussion, lost an eye, a few teeth, and very nearly his life. But he had lived, and so instead of facing a charge of second-degree murder, Clyde had escaped with aggravated assault and a shot at freedom while still young enough to appreciate it.

Trey had publicly lambasted him, distancing himself from Clyde like he was poison and no longer his brother. Clyde had been just as stubborn, never telling Trey that he fought the bigger, stronger Willie to try to protect him and what might have happened had Trey and Willie come to blows that fateful night. He’d figured maybe it was best that Trey continued to believe he was nothing but a lost cause. Thay way they could go on hating each other as always, which somehow seemed as though it were meant to be.

Clyde realized now that he had gone about it all the wrong way. He’d had enough time behind bars to understand that. But he couldn’t undo history.

Maybe if I’d been honest with Trey from the start, we could’ve gotten past this and been brothers again instead of virtual strangers all these years.

Clyde decided it was all water under the bridge now. Did no good to rehash a very stupid thing he did, even if at the time Clyde actually thought he was doing something right for a change in having Trey’s back, whether his brother deserved it or not.

He opened his eyes. The clock on a metal table told Clyde that freedom was only an hour away. He could almost taste it, even if bittersweet.

One day at a time to reestablish his life and keep from falling back between the cracks. Clyde took solace in the thought.

Trey waited outside the gates of the Oregon State Penitentiary. Admittedly, he was more nervous than anticipated in awaiting Clyde’s exit from the place he’d called home for the past nine years. What the hell did one say to a brother he barely knew anymore?

Just try and let bygones be bygones. We’ve both grown over the years and can use that as a measure for moving forward.

Ivana had not offered to accompany him and Trey hadn’t asked her to. She would see Clyde soon enough. For now, it was best that the two brothers reconcile their differences as best as possible by themselves.

Trey watched as the man he recognized as his brother emerged from the prison and began walking toward him. He waited as if glued to the spot, then at the last moment decided to take a few steps in Clyde’s direction.

“What’s up, man?” Clyde’s voice was deeper than Trey remembered, perhaps the voice of a man too long without freedom.

“I’m good,” Trey told him, smiling crookedly.

The two now stood toe to toe, awkwardly, as if sizing each other up for a prizefight. Finally, Clyde stuck out a hand and Trey reached for it. . .