Shadow Lane Volume 6 by Eve Howard

Author:Eve Howard
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: ebook, book
ISBN: 9781926585468
Publisher: CCB Publishing
Published: 2010-06-01T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Four

Pamela

“I’ve hired an eccentric girl to look after the shop while Laura and I are in Europe,” Hugo Sands told Sloan Taylor while browsing in the bookstore. “She’s in the scene,” the publisher of The New Rod Quarterly added confidentially.

It had been five months since Frankie’s dramatic departure and Sloan’s social life had been quiet. “She’s very retro,” Hugo continued. “Lives in a world of her own. I thought you two would get along fairly well. Don’t hope for much at first, though. She’s difficult.”

“And you’re trusting her with the shop?”

“Well, she’s never actually had a job before, but she’s loaded with art school and fashion degrees. I’d have hired her on the outfit she interviewed in alone.”

“What did you mean about her being difficult?”

“You’ll see.”

“Should I behave as though I know she’s in the scene?”

“No, don’t do that. She considers the scene coarse. She once ran a personal ad and the replies offended her.”

“I see.”

“You should spank her, of course. She needs someone to. Just don’t admit that you’re into it. Pretend it’s an onerous task.”

Hugo picked out a few books for his trip. “Oh, and I hope you don’t mind, Sloan, but I told her that if she has any crises at the shop she should seek your counsel.”

“It will be my pleasure,” Sloan replied sincerely, knowing that Hugo would never have bothered to explain all of this to him unless the girl was very interesting.

Sloan guessed Pamela Crane was Hugo’s new clerk the moment she walked into the bookshop the following Monday at noon, a leggy, 25 year old brunette with a high, chestnut brown ponytail and the disdainful, red-lipped pout of fashion Barbie, 1958. She was wearing a black pencil skirt with a French gray peplum jacket and carried a gray umbrella. As she browsed through the classics section Sloan noticed her examining the tips of her lighter gray gloves now and then for specks of dust. She spent fifteen minutes browsing then finally came to the center counter where he sat.

“I’ll take these, please,” she said, barely looking at him as she dug a tiny purse out of a small handbag. Sloan was impressed by her selections.

“You have exquisite taste,” he told her, examining the books by Aphra Behn, Lord Rochester and Voltaire. Pamela stared at him briefly. Then her face became an impassive mask, acknowledging his compliment with the world’s faintest smile. She unfolded some bills and waited for her change, checking her watch. Sloan was surprised by her unfriendliness.

Finally receiving her change and package, Pamela clicked out of the store on her dizzyingly high, black, stacked heels. Her long, shapely legs in sheer, seamed black hose and those remarkable shoes were well worth following all the way out the door with one’s eyes.

Sloan put up the “Back Later” sign and stalked over to The Puzzle Club for lunch. He was slightly taken aback to find Pamela was already seated with a chicken salad sandwich and a chocolate shake in front of her.

Sloan

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