If The Shoe Fits

by Fennell, Judi

  As the woman left her seat to take Gus’s soufflé, Bella had her answer. Mr. Fiorello sat next to her. Madeleine wanted to prove she had the best chef in her restaurant and the money to hold off if Mr. Fiorello’s first offer wasn’t high enough.

  It was a good bluff, Bella had to admit. But would the man call it?

  Behind Mr. Fiorello, Bella saw Staci glance their way. And wink again. And this time, Bella caught Giac winking back.

  Aha! That’s what they’d been up to. Bella felt a surge of gratitude she never would have imagined feeling two months ago toward her stepsister. It seemed the changes in Staci were more than superficial.

  “And now,” the auctioneer began again, “for our final item of the night. An evening with a Charmant.”

  Bella’s breath caught. She remembered her own evening with a certain Charmant, but doubted the winner of the auction would have anything similar with Reese’s mom.

  There was a tittering of excitement from the audience. It was no secret Carolyn Charmant was this evening’s special guest. The crowd turned in their chairs, looking for the famous actress.

  But it was Reese who headed to the podium.

  If Bella had been just another member of the crowd, she would have missed the slightly nauseated look on his face right before he leaned over to say something to the auctioneer. But she wasn’t just any member of the audience. She was one with a vested interest in anything having to do with Reese Charmant. Whether it was good for her or not.

  The auctioneer shook his head. Was he laughing as Reese shrugged those broad shoulders?

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” the auctioneer spoke into the microphone. “There seems to be a change in plans.”

  Butterflies opened their wings in Bella’s stomach.

  “It seems Ms. Charmant has taken ill. Nothing serious, but it does preclude her from attending this evening’s event. However...” The man’s grin got bigger and he turned to Reese. “I’m sure you’re all aware there is more than one celebrity in the Charmant family. Our very own Super Bowl-winning quarterback, Mr. Reese Charmant, has willingly consented to fulfill his mother’s obligation. So, ladies.” The auctioneer put the microphone back in its holder and gripped both sides of the podium. “Get your checkbooks ready. And all for a good cause. Do I have someone to start the bidding?”

  Bella held her breath before it fell out of her shoes. Someone else was going to spend an evening with Reese. She wanted to sink through the floor. Damn. She knew it was completely illogical, but he was hers.

  Even though she couldn’t have him.

  The bidding was fast and furious, keeping time with the sinking of Bella’s heart. She couldn’t stand there and watch it. Bella pushed behind Giac, sidestepping around other patrons. If she could just get to the galley—

  “Nineteen hundred.”

  Bella’s head whipped around. That was Staci’s voice. And Madeleine was standing next to her, pleased as punch.

  What about Luke? Or was it all some sick plan Staci and her mother had concocted to steamroll Bella’s spirits even more?

  “Two thousand,” another woman called out.

  “Twenty-one hundred.” Staci again.

  Another woman, Bella couldn’t see who but did catch the snow-white hair, bid twenty-five hundred. Bella found herself hoping that mystery woman would win. She’d feel much better if Reese went out with someone old enough to be his grandmother.

  And, yes, she realized the ridiculousness of her wish, but it was what it was.

  “Three thousand,” said Staci with a Cheshire-cat smile.

  Murmurs buzzed around the crowd as everyone looked to the white-haired bidder. The woman shook her head.

  Bella’s heart sank as the gravel fell for the first time, then the second, and finally the third. She’d been outplayed by her stepsister. God, when would she learn?

  She’d almost made it to the stairwell back to the galley where she wouldn’t have to watch Staci’s triumphant march up to the podium, when a hand gripped her arm. She turned to Staci’s smiling face.

  “Here.” Staci thrust something heavy into her solar plexus. “Go claim your prize.”

  “What?” Bella looked down. A large mason jar was in her hands. A mason jar filled with Mr. Campanale’s tips.

  Realization dawned and Bella felt gratitude well up within her—only to come crashing down. “Your mother—”

  “Let me deal with my mother. You go on up there and claim your guy.”

  He was her guy, and suddenly, Bella felt as if she was walking on clouds. The sounds around her faded away as she started toward the podium. Reese stood there, smiling. Even Madeleine’s hiss didn’t stop her as she floated past the woman. She only had eyes, and ears, and every other one of her five senses for Reese. She’d think about Madeleine tomorrow.

  “Hi,” Reese said softly as she reached him.

  “Hi.”

  He took the mason jar from her with a raised eyebrow.

  Bella chuckled. “Mr. Campanale wanted me to use his tips for something special. I believe the hospital fund qualifies.”

  “It certainly does.”

  Just the sound of his voice could start her skin humming, her fingers itching to touch him, her heart thudding.

  Reese gave the auctioneer the jar and took her hand. He led her through the crowd, past an apoplectic Madeleine, and down the stairs to the gangway.

  The band was just striking up as Bella and Reese exited the ship, walking in silence to the near-deserted pavilion.

  Candles flickered in the soft breeze while the drayage employees were breaking down the tables. Reese whispered something to one of the men and the pavilion emptied.

  They were alone.

  Their fingers linked, Reese led Bella to the middle of the pavilion. It was their own private dance floor. The muted music from the band floated to them on the soft evening breeze.

  Reese twirled her in front of him and opened his arms. It was the most natural thing in the world for Bella to step into them, her head resting against his chest. Reese circled her waist and pulled her close. They swayed in time to the music.

  Bella savored it, pushing out any hint of Madeleine. This was for her. For the rest of her nights without him. She’d won him fair and square. Well, okay, perhaps not fair, but Staci had given her the winning bid.

  His hand spanned her waist, his fingers skimming the cutouts on the back of the bodice, and Bella forgot all about the restaurant and her stepmother and everything else but Reese. Her skin sparked wherever he touched. Tiny tremors shivered across her back as he pulled her closer, the steady thump of his heart beating beneath her cheek. Her own stammered a reply and her breath hitched as his hand slid up her spine. The intoxicating mix of Reese and his cologne assailed her as the lights twinkled around them.

  “Bella.” His voice rumbled against her cheek.

  She shivered, but not from cold. Bella tilted her head back to find his mouth a mere whisper away.

  “I was hoping you’d bid,” he murmured just as his mouth captured hers.

  Bella stood on her toes, leaning into the embrace. Letting the strength of him support her as their lips met.

  This was no tentative first kiss; they’d dispensed with that days ago. This was a kiss of remembrance, yearning for another chance.

  Reese’s mouth slanted over hers. He nipped at each of her lips before his tongue urgently traced the seam between them. On Bella’s groan, he swept in.

  He tasted far better than her memories. Better than her dreams. Bella clenched his arms as her knees threatened to buckle. His biceps tightened and one of his hands found her head, caressing her scalp as his kisses claimed her mouth.

  His other arm slid beneath her backside, lifting her up to delve so he could kiss her more deeply, and Bella wanted to crawl inside the haven his arms offered, wanted to blot out everything else but what was happening right here and now between them.

  She threw her arms around his neck, plunging her hands into the thick
chestnut waves brushing his collar. She returned his kisses, her tongue melding with his, and knew this was a night she’d always remember.

  The kiss went on and on. Time stopped and Bella was aware of only Reese. He surrounded her. He filled her.

  He fulfilled her.

  She wanted it to go on forever.

  “Well isn’t this cozy?”

  A tidal wave of cold water crashed over them. Madeleine stood ten feet away, her hands clenching her bony hips.

  Bella stumbled away from Reese as if she’d been shot. His arms tightened, but Bella squirmed, yanking herself free.

  She could only imagine the ramifications of this nightmare. Madeleine’s eyes were blazing, her lips clamped together so tightly it looked like she’d swallowed them.

  Bella cleared her throat, ran her fingers shakily through her hair, though the effort was futile, she knew. She smoothed her dress and tried to erase the passion from her face.

  From the look Madeleine gave her, Bella knew she’d failed miserably.

  “Mad—” Bella started.

  “I believe we were having a private meeting.” Reese sounded more composed than Bella felt.

  If she weren’t standing right next to him, well, okay, practically on top of him, she wouldn’t have realized the angry hold he had on his emotions. His muscles were rigid.

  Madeleine didn’t appreciate the rebuke. The woman tossed her head, lifted her nose in the air, and turned on her heel. “And I shall have my own private meeting with Mr. Fiorello.” She glared back at Bella but kept on walking. “Right now.”

  Bella started after her, but Reese grabbed her arm. “Let her go.”

  Bella started to tremble and desire had nothing to do with it. “Oh no oh no oh no.” She wrung her hands. “I knew this would happen. I knew it. How could I have let it happen?”

  “It’s okay, Bella, I can handle Madeleine.”

  “You don’t understand, Reese. No one can handle her. Not when she has the legal right—” Bella pinched the bridge of her nose. “Oh, God. It’s all ruined. What have I done?” Her head throbbed. She massaged her temples.

  Reese gripped her shoulders, his fingers kneading the flesh above her collarbone. “Sssh, Bella. It’s all right. Don’t worry.”

  Her eyes flew open. “Don’t worry? Worry is about the only thing I can do.” She pulled away from him again. “I’ve got to talk to her. I can still fix it.” She looked around, trying to get her bearings. Which way had Madeleine gone?

  There. Bella hiked up her long skirt to run past Reese when he grabbed her arm. His voice was urgent.

  “Bella, let me—”

  Bella squirmed away. “Let you? I can’t let you. Letting you is why she’s so mad in the first place.” She started to run. “Oh, God, please don’t let me be too late.”

  She stumbled as she ran over something small and round and shiny on the floor, and tripped out of her shoe. Reese was too close for her to stop and pick it up without having to fight with him again. She had to get to Madeleine before the woman did something irreversible.

  Bella gave a last look at her pump lying on its side, irony gnawing at her insides, but she still ran after Madeleine.

  Along the way, she pulled off the other shoe, then flew up the gangplank and stairs, ignoring the calls from Jolie, Staci, and Giac. She ran around the ship’s bridge to the tables on the back deck.

  And there, primly setting a pen down, her back straight, sat Madeleine. She handed a stack of papers to Mr. Fiorello and turned to Bella.

  That feral grin was back in place.

  Bella could only stare, horror-stricken. It was gone. All of it.

  Oh, God. Please, no.

  Before she could stop herself, Bella strode up to her stepmother. “Madeleine—”

  “Lucinda.” Madeleine’s tongue slithered between her teeth. “Where are your manners? Surely you want to congratulate your new boss on his very recent purchase of our restaurant?” Her hand swept toward Mr. Fiorello.

  Bella gritted her teeth and tried to smile politely to the man.

  “And do be a dear and take Gus’s... thing...home with you, won’t you?” Madeleine pushed back in her chair and held the soufflé out to Bella.

  Before Bella could reach it, a blur of something small and bald with wire-rimmed spectacles lurched forward. “Oh, my pardon. I must have had a bit too much of my whiskey.” Mr. Griff bumped into Madeleine.

  The soufflé teetered for a moment, then fell back as if in slow motion, splattering against the woman’s chest, orange and brown globs landing squarely in the middle of Madeleine’s stark white sash, the only relief from the absolute black of her dress. Large chunks of the soufflé wavered for a moment from their precarious perch then plopped to the floor beneath—and onto Madeleine’s brand new black suede heels.

  Madeleine shrieked into the stunned silence, “You careless, little man! Look what you’ve done!”

  Luckily, Mr. Griff moved away or Bella swore Madeleine might have struck him. The woman brushed her sash, but only succeeded in spreading the spongy orange mixture even more. She threw down her hands in disgust. “That’s it! I have had it with Gus and the restaurant, and this stupid thi... thing, whatever it is.” She snarled at Bella. “I’m glad I sold it!”

  That was it, then. Sobs threatened to overwhelm Bella, but she refused to give Madeleine the satisfaction. Or the opportunity to threaten Sophia. It galled Bella that she had to bite back her bile over losing the restaurant, but Sophia was more important. She couldn’t risk Madeleine’s anger any more. That kiss had done enough damage.

  While Madeleine sputtered and cursed Mr. Griff, Bella threw back her shoulders, spun on her shoeless heel and regally walked back to the stairwell, past Reese, down the stairs, took Bruno’s keys from him, promised Jolie more money to see to the clean-up, and left just as the church clock chimed midnight.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Reese punched Bella’s doorbell at an ungodly early hour the next morning. Not that it mattered to him what time it was because he had yet to even glance at a mattress. He’d been up the rest of the night planning how to fix this. Selling the restaurant had caught him completely unawares. God, the woman truly was a monster, threatening Bella with both her sister and her legacy.

  No wonder Bella had steered clear of him. Well, no more. Madeleine had thought she was cashing in her trump cards, but she hadn’t yet dealt with him. Or his parents. Mom, especially. The woman would do anything when her children’s happiness was threatened. Even loan him way too much money.

  He punched the bell again, not caring if he woke the whole damn household. Someone needed to call the woman on the carpet and he was so going to relish doing it.

  He gave up on the bell and pounded the door. The transom above it shook. Good. That’s how he felt after spending the rest of the party and what was left of the night worrying about Bella, wracking his brain, then calling his parents, his attorney, and any favor he could think of.

  Drew opened the door bleary-eyed. Well, that couldn’t be helped.

  “Where’s Bella?”

  The girl shook her head and shrugged.

  “Then where’s Madeleine?” Reese demanded.

  Drew stepped aside and waved a hand somewhere past the stairs. Reese took it as an invitation.

  He strode into an empty kitchen and saw a set of French doors opened to a patio.

  Madeleine, sipping tea from a delicate cup as if she were royalty, sat there on a wicker chair in an austere white dressing gown that made her hair look as insidiously black as her soul.

  She sat back calmly, setting the cup in its saucer, its slight rattle the only indication she was not as composed as she affected. She offered him an inquiring smile.

  He wanted to slap it right off her face, but as God was his witness, he’d never struck a woman in his life. If Madeleine were a man, however, she’d be eating dirt right now through gaping holes in her gum line.

  She rose. “Why, Mr. Charmant, this is an un
expected—”

  “Sit down.” Reese had no time—nor inclination—for niceties.

  She sat.

  Good. He grabbed one of the other flimsy wicker chairs. It crackled when he half-crushed it beneath his fingers. Again, good. He felt like breaking something. He spun the chair around, straddling it.

  Madeleine’s eyes flickered at the French doors. Ha. Flicker away, lady, because you’ve got to get past me to get off this patio. He wasn’t allowing her to go anywhere until he had his say.

  And his way.

  Madeleine might think she knew what being in control of a situation was, but now, he was in charge.

  Because he held something he knew she wanted.

  “I’m here for one reason only.”

  She quirked an eyebrow at him, which simply made her look more like the pointed weasel-faced wretch she was.

  “My mother will decline the seat on the Board and recommend you, but I want something in return.”

  He’d surprised her. Good.

  “Why?” Her eyes narrowed.

  “Because you’re going to rescind the sale of the restaurant you made last night.”

  “I can’t. I signed papers.”

  “State law says that you have three days to change your mind in a business deal. You just changed your mind.”

  Madeleine tapped her thin, shriveled lips. “But with the restaurant gone, I have no reason to care about being on the Board and since I sold it, I obviously don’t care to be on the Board.”

  Reese stood up and leaned on the table, his face mere inches from hers. “Oh you care. You put this family through hell because you care so much. Last night was just your showboating. Rescind the damn sale.”

  “And if I refuse?”

  Don’t tempt me, lady. “I’ll use the full force of my celebrity to blacken your name not only in town, but across the entire state. Hell, I can call the media and make it nationwide. Toss my mother’s cachet in there and this could go worldwide. You won’t be able to show your face anywhere with any semblance of dignity, let alone be on any Board whatsoever. Everything you’ve worked for—threatened and blackmailed for—will be gone.”