If The Shoe Fits

by Laurie LeClair

  She was more than he’d ever hoped for, more than he knew he’d needed. Charlie made him want to be a better friend, a better husband, a better man.

  Smiling, he allowed himself to recall their time together. His thoughts lingered on their wedding night. So soft, so warm, and so willing. He groaned softly.

  “What, may I ask, are you thinking?” Charlie asked.

  Alex opened his eyes, wondering if she was real or just part of his very vivid imagination.

  Rushing into the room, she dropped her purse and tote bag in a nearby chair. Soon she rounded the desk. “May I?” she asked, lifting his arms and gingerly seating herself in his lap, and then wrapping his arms around her.

  “I didn’t even get to answer.” He gathered her close, welcoming her warmth. He inhaled deep. Her perfume tickled his senses.

  “Complaining?” She snuggled into him. Her lips brushed the side of his neck. He shivered.

  “Never,” he moaned.

  She giggled.

  The sound vibrated through him and he grasped her closer still.

  “You are such a good courter. Is that even a word?”

  “Me? I believe you are the one throwing yourself at me. Talk about a good courter. And no, it’s not a word. But who cares?”

  Suddenly, she kissed his cheek repeatedly with quick, hard pecks.

  “A little more to the left, please.”

  “Your left or mine?”

  “Mine.”

  She halted a few inches away from his lips. As she stared into his eyes, his heart tumbled in his chest.

  “Charlie,” he whispered.

  “Alex,” she said in an equally breathy voice.

  She lowered her lips to his. Gently, she kissed the corner of his mouth, and then the other side. She feathered the lightest of kisses over his lips. She increased the pressure.

  Alex brought a hand up to cradle the back of her head, liking the way the silky strands of her hair caressed his skin. She parted his lips with her tongue. He groaned. He heard, as well as felt, her suck in a sharp breath. He moaned this time. She responded, sending a swift, sharp ache crashing through him.

  She teased him, first darting her tongue in his mouth, then, ever so gently, tangling hers around his in a wicked, tantalizing dance of promise and desire.

  The kiss went on and on. He never wanted it to end.

  She reached out with her hands, soft and seeking, to unbutton his shirt. Then she delved her fingers between the parted fabric and blazed a trail of fire over his flesh. He burned.

  Still clinging to her kiss, he ran his free hand over her back, waist, hips, and then her perfectly round bottom, down her long thighs, and then back up again. In the back of his mind, he thanked her for wearing the pencil-thin skirt. It fit her like a second skin.

  A shiver racked her. His body tightened and hardened in all the right places. Slowly, she pulled away. Her sweet breath fanned over his mouth. He longed to drag her back for more of the same. Her eyes, now a liquid caramel, tried to focus on him.

  “Welcome home, wife.” He nearly growled the last. He didn’t realize how possessive he could be. Her condition of keeping their marriage a secret fueled his desire for the world to know.

  “Husband.” He heard the smile in her voice.

  She knew. She sensed how difficult it had been for him to keep his distance from her out in public, to dodge reporters’ questions, to beg his grandparents from revealing the truth, and to appear as if they didn’t even live together.

  Gates locked and drapes drawn at all hours, and, nearly a prisoner in his own home when he was there, had been his routine of late. How many times had she snuck out the back in the early-morning hours or hurried in during the late-evening hours to side-step the paparazzi? He’d avoided them at the house, trying to send the message he was unavailable there.

  And at his office, he’d come out to face them and fob off their many pictures, distracting them from bothering her by telling them Ms. King would not be making any statements.

  “Two weeks down, four to go,” he said.

  “Is that all you can think of right now?” she asked, leaning into him even more.

  He smiled as he gazed at her. “Hardly.”

  She wiggled. He groaned again. “It seems to me,” she brushed her lips against his, “husband of mine, hard is definitely the perfect word right now.”

  “Oh, so you’ve noticed.”

  Wrinkling her nose at him, she said, “I’m quick like that.”

  “Not too quick, I hope,” he said, capturing her lips in a long, drugging kiss.

  She reluctantly broke the embrace. Charlie’s breathing came swift and shallow. It matched his.

  The heat of her body, the fullness of her breasts pressed into his chest, the lush curves under his hands all inflamed him.

  “I’ve got all night, Alex. How about you?”

  “No financial statements, no window displays, no notes for staff meetings to attend to?” he asked, referring to her many duties that occupied her time recently.

  “All done,” she said. “And, I’ll have you know sales are up.”

  That piece of knowledge shouldn’t surprise him after the amazing response to her ongoing storyline of the Charmings. He brushed aside the sliver of unease at the thought of having to end this charade in a few weeks. Bottom line, it came down to Royale Enterprises couldn’t afford to keep King’s Department Store going until it turned a real profit. “You’re very good.”

  “Oh, Alex, you’ll see just how good I am in a few minutes.”

  Chapter 16

  Courting, as she called it, came easy to him, Charlie thought the next day as she trailed her fingers over her slightly swollen lips. His kisses stirred her like no other. His touch, warm and lingering, set her ablaze.

  Gazing into the large mirror with lights surrounding it, she blinked at her reflection. She glowed. There was no denying that fact. Her eyes sparkled, she couldn’t stop the ever present tug of a smile, and her skin appeared radiant, if she did say so herself.

  Marriage was very, very good to her.

  But, if truth be told, it was the man himself that occupied her thoughts and had her gasping for breath on many occasions. Her initial impression of him as stuffy and all business contradicted the man she’d come to know. He had this way about him.

  For the first time in years, she belonged.

  He didn’t laugh well, not hard at her antics or ideas. In fact, the more she allowed him to see her designs and share her thoughts he seemed to be open and surprisingly interested.

  She’d even gone so far as make a suggestion or two about his family business. He’d considered it, and then later had mentioned he’d put them in place.

  Leaning her elbows on the dressing table, she pressed her fists against her cheeks. “Amazing, isn’t he?” she whispered to herself.

  “Gorgeous as the first time, honey,” Dolly said, coming up behind her. “Who’d have thunk it that you’d be wearing that wedding dress twice in less than three weeks?” she asked in a hushed tone.

  Sitting up straight, she asked, “And for a photo shoot at that?” Charlie shook her head. She wore her hair pulled back again. But now she’d added small diamond earrings and a very delicate matching diamond necklace, all courtesy of King’s Department Store.

  “Ready, Charlie?” Peg asked with a clipboard cradled in her arm.

  “Sure thing.”

  Rico, flamboyant and colorful as ever, came bustling over. He waved his hands around her frame. “Perfecto.”

  She chuckled. “You might want to bring some powder or even some deodorant if this thing goes on too long.”

  He whipped out his makeup brush and container of powder. “Got it.” Snatching a roll-on from the table in front of her, he said, “B O, check.”

  “B O?” Dolly and Peg asked in unison.

  He rolled his eyes at them and tsked. “Body odor. Where have you two been for the last century?”

  Charlie watched as th
ey turned to each other and shrugged helplessly.

  A few minutes later, as directed, Charlie took the short stool in the center of the photo shoot. Andre, her photographer friend, checked and rechecked the lighting. His assistants fluffed and re-fluffed her gown.

  “Is this a King’s dress?” one of them asked. Charlie, sitting perfectly still, thought the question came from the short, blonde-haired young woman stooping behind her.

  “An original,” Dolly piped up. Out of the corner of her eye, Charlie saw her friend wink.

  She smiled. Well, not quite a King’s design, but close enough. A King did design it and Dolly did make it.

  Just then she heard a commotion off the set and beyond the big, bright lights. Several people talked at once.

  “Oh, they’re here!” Dolly exclaimed.

  “Who?” Charlie couldn’t make out anyone in the shadows.

  “The girls. I called for their dresses and they came!”

  “The girls?”

  “It’s me, Francine. And here’s Priscilla. Will you get this guy off of us?” Her stepsister’s distinct voice reached her.

  “Francie?”

  “You know her, them, Charlie?” Rico asked, disgust dripping from his voice.

  “We’re related,” Priscilla chimed in.

  He tsked. “Charlie, tell me it’s not true.”

  “It is,” she said hesitantly, afraid of his outspokenness.

  “No way!”

  “Way,” Charlie and the girls said in unison.

  “Are they in the shoot, too?”

  The girls came to the edge of the pristine white floor draping. Charlie blinked several times. What had happened to their new looks? The black clothing was back, even with the thick stockings and clunky shoes. Both of them clutched equally matronly black purses. They had their hair scraped back, held by a thick black headband. And not an ounce of makeup adorned their pretty faces. Charlie groaned inwardly.

  “Can we be?” Priscilla asked.

  “Not without a whole lotta work,” Rico pointed out, plucking at the drab sleeve with two fingers.

  “Who else can wear their custom-made dresses, honey?” Dolly asked loudly.

  “It’s true.” Charlie gave in. “Rico, can you give them the works?”

  His long-suffering sigh echoed all around her.

  “You are the miracle worker, remember?” She bit her lip.

  “Of course I am,” he declared. “Come on, girls, we have a whole new world to conquer. And I’m the only one man enough who can do it.”

  An hour later, Charlie’s muscles strained with the effort of holding herself in one awkward position after another for long lengths of time.

  “Charlie, please,” Andre begged. “Smile. Not the wooden one, either.”

  This required more than she’d anticipated. In her mind, she saw her work piling up on her desk. She had papers to sign, new displays to design, and another staff meeting to conduct on the upcoming sale.

  She forced another smile.

  He cursed in a foreign language, French she was certain.

  “Sorry, I guess I’m just not cut out for this line of work.”

  “What line? Wife?” Alex asked from the shadows.

  Sitting up straight, she sucked in a sharp breath. “Alex?”

  Gasps rent the air. Next, she detected the high trill of voices. He seemed to affect most women that way, even Rico. She giggled at that thought.

  “That’s it,” Andre shouted. The sudden rush of cameras clicking pierced the room.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her husband walk to the edge of the draping and kick off his shoes. Just the sight of his big, broad-shouldered frame stole her senses away. She shifted slightly to see him more as he slowly walked toward her.

  A smile tugged at his lips. “You didn’t answer my question,” Alex gently reminded her, his eyes twinkling.

  “Wife, huh?” She couldn’t contain the dreamy quality in her voice. “Oh, I don’t know. You’ll have to be the judge of that.”

  More female gasps sliced through the air of giddy anticipation.

  He raised an eyebrow. Halting before her, he dropped to one knee. He reached out and trailed a finger over her cheek. “Really? And just how am I supposed to do that?”

  “Will you marry me, Alex?”

  He laughed. She joined him. His presence, his willingness to tease her and play along with her warmed her to her very soul, leaving an indelible mark on her heart.

  She loved him. She finally admitted it to herself. Deeply, irrevocably, she loved her husband.

  “Yes, Charlotte King, it would be my pleasure to marry you,” he said, and then softly he added, “All over again.”

  ***

  Sitting in the back of his car, Alex smiled as he fingered the crisp, beautifully crafted cardstock with the delicate swirls of lettering gracing it. She’d done it again. This time, as a form of advertising, Charlie had sent out wedding invitations for the Charmings, the couple she’d invented for her store displays.

  She’d played her and Alex’s real budding relationship, engagement, and now wedding with perfect precision while tempting the public’s interest not only in them, but in King’s merchandise as well.

  “Good, huh?” Edward asked, glancing in the rearview mirror.

  “Amazing,” Alex said, still in awe over the way her mind worked. If she’d been at the helm of King’s Department Store all these years, it wouldn’t be in dire straits now. But, in just a few more weeks, he’d have to pull the plug on the whole thing. A twinge of guilt poked him in his middle.

  “We’re here, sir.” Edward easily maneuvered the town car in front of the store as the uniformed man directed them into the slot. “Looks like the crowd is gathering in anticipation.”

  Absently, Alex gazed out the window and noted the many people, especially women, milling about. The first window had been revealed. He strained to see the display. No such luck. The “ceremony” started at ten a.m. He checked his watch. Fifteen minutes to go. He could sneak in and see Charlie first. Would he ruin it for her, though?

  “I could go around the block another turn.”

  “No, no.” He dismissed his friend’s offer. “I don’t want to miss it.” He reconsidered his position and decided to throw caution to the wind and get out of the car. After all, he had to check out the first window. He wondered what she’d dreamed up for that one.

  He grabbed for the door handle. The car phone rang.

  “Shall I get that?”

  “No, Edward, let it ring.”

  “It’s your grandfather,” Edward said, lifting up the phone to show Alex the caller ID.

  He blew out a hot breath. The phone rang over and over again. Giving in, he snatched up his extension. With forced cheer, he said, “Grandfather, how are you?”

  “Where in the devil have you been, son?”

  He knew the older man just wasn’t asking about the present moment. “I’ve been—”

  “Distracted? I realize you just got married, but, son, you spend more time at her store than you do in your own office.”

  “That’s not entirely true, sir.” He grimaced at his own defensiveness.

  “Stop, Albert, your heart.” Alex heard his grandmother in the background. “Alex,” her voice grew louder, “tell your grandfather he’s got nothing to worry about. You’ll take care of everything just like you always do.”

  “Honey, I’ve got this.” Gramps obviously spoke to his wife.

  “Oh, Albert, tell him about the party.” Her voice faded out, and then came on the line. “Alex, are you there? We’re going to throw you and Charlotte a reception. Saturday, sweetheart. That’s the perfect way to end this silly charade with the press.”

  “Gran—”

  “No need to thank us. You know how I just love parties. Oh, won’t it be wonderful, the first time as a family we officially introduce your wife, Charlotte Royale?”

  What would Charlie say about the fuss? “She’s still a K
ing.”

  “I suppose I have to invite the stepmother.” He pictured her gnawing on a painted fingernail. “It wouldn’t be polite if I didn’t.”

  “And the sisters,” he pointed out absently, suppressing a chuckle at the absurdity of the conversation. He realized he hated parties. On any given night or day, he’d rather be alone with Charlie.

  “Oh yes. I can’t imagine they’d bring dates, do you? I’ll just make sure there’s a few extra seats just in case.” She seemed lost in thought now.

  Suddenly, his grandfather’s voice rumbled in his ear as if they’d never been interrupted. “I see the newspapers, my boy. I’ve seen the pictures of you and her at King’s. What in the blue blazes has she done to you?”

  His grandmother cried out in the background, “The window displays! Tell Charlotte the Charmings are wonderful!”

  A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Just wait until they saw him in the wedding ads. For the first time ever, he hadn’t minded a photographer taking his picture, especially with his wife. He’d willingly signed the consent form to help Charlie.

  He wanted her to succeed. If only for a short time until he had to sell the store.

  “And I know just how much time you spend away from Royale Enterprises.” His grandfather’s words had him jerking back to reality. “Don’t you think I know what’s going on in the business I started?” Hurt and disappointment shadowed his words.

  Something kicked Alex in his chest. He never wanted to let his grandfather down. “Chadwick.”

  “At least you still remember his name.”

  “Grandfather, he’s been gunning to take over since before you semi-retired.” For years, Alex had been five steps ahead of Chadwick. Now, it seemed, he’d let his guard down and the shark had moved in.

  “Yes, he’s got a one-track mind. And that’s what we need now more than ever.”

  “So what has he been telling you?”

  “You sent Stuart to California when you should have gone yourself. We lost the deal.”

  Sitting up straighter, Alex reached for his briefcase. He snapped it open and yanked out a file. “Why wasn’t I notified?” He flipped through the pages. “Stuart’s report mentioned nothing of any discontent. He says he had them eating out of his hand.”