Chapter 8 - THE VANISHING MISTRESS
As my father predicted,
Paisley Daley was gone within twenty-four hours.
She had tried to cash in the diamond necklace,
but the jeweler had flagged it as stolen property.
Since it was bought with Conway Tech funds,
it was part of the company’s assets.
She was currently being questioned by the police regarding her involvement in Spencer’s financial crimes.
I sat in a small cafe in the Heights,
watching the world go by.
I had rented a quiet apartment in a building I owned.
It was simple,
elegant,
and entirely mine.
I was working on a proposal for a new nonprofit foundation,
one that would support women starting their own businesses.
I wanted to use the Harrell resources for something that mattered.
My phone rang,
and for a moment,
I hesitated.
But it was a number I didn't recognize.
“Hello?”
“Phoebe? It’s Mrs. Gladys.”
I felt a warmth in my chest.
“Gladys! How are you?”
“The house is being sold, Ma’am.”
“The bank took possession this morning.”
“I just wanted to tell you that I found your old wedding album.”
“They were going to throw it away.”
I looked at the coffee in front of me.
“You can keep it, Gladys.”
“Or throw it away.”
“I don't need the photos to remember the lessons I learned.”
“You’re a strong woman, Phoebe,”
Gladys said.
“I always knew you were destined for bigger things than that mansion.”
“Thank you, Gladys.”
“If you need a job,
come find me at Harrell Plaza.”
“I’m starting something new,
and I could use someone I trust.”
I hung up the phone and looked at the blueprint for my foundation.
I was building a legacy that wasn't based on a name or a debt.
I was building something that was real.
Spencer Conway was a ghost from a past life.
Paisley Daley was a cautionary tale.
I was the architect of my own future.
May you like
And this time,
the dress I was wearing was perfect.
