Bad Reputation, A Read Online Free Page A

remarkable either. Not like the vibrant flowers spilling out on the sidewalks, but Pamela had some talent.
    â€œThey’re very good, Pamela. I like your color choices, and you have a very soft way of shading.”
    She let out a relieved breath. “Thank you. I work very hard on them.”
    â€œHave you had lessons, or does this just come to you naturally?”
    â€œI’ve taken lots of lessons at the community college. The teachers there say I have a real flair for flowers.”
    â€œYes, you do. Have you tried painting other things?”
    â€œNo, just flowers.”
    Derivative and safe. “Well, you have some fine paintings here.”
    â€œThank you, Madeline. That means a lot coming from you. I do collages, too, but those are at home. I’d love for you to see them some time.”
    At three o’clock, Pamela put a sign on the door saying the store was closed for the afternoon. “One of the perks of being the owner,” she winked, and we went to the fellowship hall at First Baptist Church.
    First Baptist was the largest church in town, a massive cathedral of granite blocks. The fellowship hall was equally impressive, a gymnasium-size room with gold walls and plush gold carpet. No folding tables and metal chairs here. Polished wooden tables covered with gold embroidered tablecloths and matching straight-back chairs were arranged around the room, and a longer table filled with refreshments stood along one wall, sparkling with crystal and silver dishes. This was the first fellowship hall I’d ever seen with chandeliers.
    As big as the room was, Wendall Clarke filled it. He was a large man with strong features and an impressive moustache, a commanding figure all in black with a black-fringed scarf around his neck. He had his arm around a young and extremely pretty blonde woman whose beautifully tailored suit and silky blouse could’ve come from Flair For Fashion.
    â€œGood heavens,” Pamela said. “I don’t believe it.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œTell you later.”
    Wendall Clarke came toward us, his voice booming. “Ms. Maclin, such a pleasure to meet you! I saw your work at the Weyland. I adore Blue Moon Garden .”
    â€œThank you very much.”
    â€œThis is my wife, Flora, but everyone calls her Baby.”
    Whoops. I had thought the young woman was his daughter. I shook hands with Flora, who seemed shy. “Pleasure to meet you. I’m Madeline.”
    She nodded and smiled but didn’t say anything.
    Wendall turned to Pamela. “Is this Pamela Finch? How are you? It’s been quite a while, hasn’t it?”
    Pamela’s reply was polite but guarded. “Hello, Wendall.”
    â€œHave you met my wife, Flora? Baby, this is one of my old school friends, Pamela Finch.”
    Pamela didn’t smile or shake hands. “How do you do?”
    Again, the young woman just smiled.
    Wendall Clarke gave the scarf a theatrical toss over his shoulder. “I suppose you’ve heard all about my little project. I am so excited by the prospect of bringing this facet of culture to Celosia. If there had been a gallery like this in town when I was growing up, I wouldn’t have taken so long to find my true calling. I hope to inspire generations of children to love art.”
    â€œThat sounds like a worthy cause, Mr. Clarke,” I said.
    â€œOh, call me Wendall, please. It would be a real honor to have you on board, Ms. Maclin. I promise your duties will not be extreme.”
    â€œLet me think about it.”
    â€œSplendid! I’d really appreciate it.” He gave his wife’s shoulders a little squeeze.
    â€œCome along, dear. I want you to meet everyone.”
    Her eyes got big. “Are you sure?”
    â€œOf course! Don’t worry. They’ll love you.”
    Flora did not look convinced. I didn’t have long to wonder about her reluctance.
    Most of the people at the reception gave Wendall