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  Stevie Stone

  Kelly Claire

  Copyright 2016 Kelly Claire

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever including Internet usage, without written permission of the author.

  This is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, or events used in this book are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people, alive or deceased, events or locales is completely coincidental.

  E-book formatting by Maureen Cutajar

  www.gopublished.com

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter One

  Stealing cars wasn’t what I imagined as my ideal career, but I try to take opportunities as they come. When I was a little girl my first choice was to be Wonder Woman. Unfortunately I never developed a strong second choice. This lack of direction is what led me to my current career. I had never worked in repo before, but I was sure I’d pick it up as I went along. It seemed pretty straight forward. You grab the stuff and go. What could go wrong?

  It must have seemed like an unusual fit for a wannabe actress, but anything had to be better than waitressing. If I had one more asshole order java then patronisingly explain it meant coffee I was going to kick some serious ass.

  My interview started easy enough. As soon as I stepped inside Harriet Hollywood’s Repossessions a Hispanic guy the size of a woolly mammoth gave me a look and said, “You Stevie Stone?”

  I was tempted to grunt, but instead just nodded.

  He was wearing long baggy tan shorts, white socks pulled up to his knees and a wife beater tank. He had tattoos covering his arms and a scar that ran down the side of his face. I immediately realized that even The Rock would have to butch it up to fit in with these guys.

  “Harriet will be out in a minute.”

  I sat down, looked at my outfit and felt ridiculous in my grey pants and red blouse. I glanced around the room then rolled my eyes in disgust. There they were. The obligatory signed photos of celebrity clients on the wall. This was an especially annoying practice in LA. You couldn’t even go to your gyneocologist without seeing touched up, smiling celebrities staring down at you. Head shots at a repo company? Whatever.

  The front office was decorated with a couple of cheap desks, linoleum on the floor, some file cabinets and an old looking beige sofa along the back wall. The only unexpected accessory was the abundance of silk flower arrangements scattered around the office.

  The woolly mammoth was sitting in the back with two smaller versions of himself. They were having a discussion in Spanish. Being paranoid, I assumed they were talking about me. I was trying to decipher their conversation with my limited skills when the back office door opened and a gust of flowery perfume exploded into the room. A woman in her early sixties walked in. She had white blond hair stacked on top of her head, too much make up and huge breasts that looked like two missiles ready to launch. She wore a jean miniskirt, a purple top that hugged every mound and white heels that were so high they almost looked like stilts.

  The wholly mammoth made a gesture in my direction and the woman strode over gave me a big smile, held out her hand and introduced herself telling me to call her Harry. I shook her hand then just stood there not knowing what to say, wondering if I was on one of those shows where they prank people.

  “Come into my office so we can have a chat,” she said gesturing for me to follow her. As she passed the woolly mammoth she said, “Hey Hector, go earn me some money and take the two little shits with you.”

  I took a deep breath and shot my eyes between the two of them. What happened next was totally unexpected. Hector and friends started laughing.

  “Okay, boss,” he said.

  “There are some new repo papers in your mailbox.”

  Box? Hector had a mailbox? I don’t know what I expected, but Hector going to his mailbox wasn’t it.

  “Now get your fat ass off my sofa and leave,” Harry said with a wave of her hand.

  My eyes darted over to see Hector’s response. I guess he enjoyed the abusive banter because all he did was smile.

  Harry opened the door into her office. I must have looked shocked because she said, “Not what you thought is it sweetheart?”

  It definitely was not. It was all white, with a glass desk and a big white fur rug on the floor. The walls had pictures of men in different stages of undress.

  “I like to look at a bit of eye candy. It makes the day go by faster,” she said, giving me a wink and telling me to take a seat in one of the white leather chairs that faced her desk.

  The office’s décor was a surprise, but the real shock was the row of bookcases that flanked her desk on the side walls. It seemed as if Harry was a charter member of a book club.

  Harry saw me staring at her bookcases and said, “My packaging can confuse people. They think a goddess don’t read.”

  Was I supposed to respond? All I could think of to say was, “No kindle?”

  “I like to feel what I am reading,” she said with a wink. “Now tell me why a cute little thing like you would want to do repo work?”

  I secretly wanted to jump for joy at the little comment, considering several casting directors had told me to start smoking and become addicted to energy drinks to help lose the extra weight I was apparently carrying. On a good day I can zip into my size four jeans without having to lie on my bed and suck in a pound of flesh. I was normal weight, but by Hollywood standards I was obese.

  I didn’t have an answer to her question so I blurted out, “It has to be better than waitressing.” I couldn’t believe I said that, but something about Harry made me feel comfortable.

  Harry started to laugh.

  “You know sometimes this work can get ugly. You understand that?”

  I wasn’t sure what she meant exactly by ugly, but I knew people weren’t going to be especially glad to see you when you were repossessing their car.

  “I can imagine.” I lied.

  “No, honey you can’t, but I could use someone like you. When people see Hector coming they tend to take off. They’d never suspect that you’d be working repo.”

  I nodded in agreement.

  “I think you’re going to work out just fine.”

  I started to feel nervous. What did I get myself into?

  “Harry?”

  “Yes, hon?”

  “I’m an actress. Would it be alright if I took off sometimes for auditions?”

  “Darlin’, this is LA everyone’s an actor. Even Hector’s taking classes. You make your own schedule. I put the repo orders in your box. You get the merchandise back on your own time.”

  I talked over the details with Harry and agreed to be back in the office tomorrow morning. I was going to be trained by Hector. Something to look forward to.