CHAPTER 10: THE JOB

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In the ranch house truck shed, Silvie Pace stood waiting near the red pickup. She was dressed for success. Any exclusive brokerage firm, law firm, or corporate bank would have scooped her up in a second, just to improve the look of their lobby.

Walt arrived at the shed -- surprised to find her waiting -- and reacted to her stunning appearance. He squelched his reaction immediately. "You look fine. Real fine."

"Thank you."

He had his hand on the driver's side door handle before he remembered his manners. He walked around to the passenger side. "Now, what exactly did you learn at that fancy Ivy League college Harry sunk so much money into?"

"Medieval English Literature." She saw no comprehension in his face. "Shakespeare, Chaucer, all that stuff."

Walt nodded. He opened the passenger side door and stood back to admit her. As she eased into the rustic cab, and he tried not to look at her bust line or her shapely legs, he asked, "You type or anything like that?"

"No," she said. "Nothing like that."

Walt nodded, forcing his eyes away from her as he closed the door. "You look fine."

The nearest town big enough to be worthy of the appellation was Clewiston. Silvie and Walt rode from one end of town to the other -- took about ninety seconds -- before Walt parked the pickup and they got out.

Silvie looked back up the main street they had just traversed. "That's it? That's all of it?"

"Yep. That's the place you've come to seek your fortune."

"Maybe I'd have a better chance at finding a fortune if I went to Miami. You really think I can get a job here?

"It's a hundred-mile commute to Miami. Don't worry, I can get you a job here. Up to you to keep it, though."

"I'll keep it. And I can still sell horses on the weekends."

Walt didn't know how he wanted to respond to that. "You look fine," was all he said.

Less than an hour later, a thirty-something bleached blonde named Clarice was showing Silvie how to keep the appointment book and answer the phone at Clarice's Beauty World. While a quartet of beauticians worked on customers, Clarice taught Silvie about dealing with the beauty-seeking public.

Outside on the sidewalk, Walt could see through Clarice's picture window, but his focus was divided. He was talking on his cell phone while observing Silvie and Clarice. He was angry with the person on the other end of the phone call. "We gotta talk about this plan of yours," he insisted.

He listened a moment, then responded. "She's fine. It's you we're talking about."

More listening, accompanied by head shaking. "You're playing with fire -- and Silvie ain't what I bargained for. This won't work--"

The other party interrupted him and spoke loudly.

Walt said, "Look, I said I'd take care of her. You just do your part. And hurry it up! Before somebody else gets hurt, y'hear?"

The other party disconnected.

Walt slapped his cell phone. "Crazy!"

....

Leslye Larrimore was pleased and proud. The architects' model of Pace Tower had finally been installed in her office at Pace-Larrimore-Stern, and the effect was superb. It was especially timely to have the model in place now, because the Japanese clients had called yesterday to set up an appointment today.

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