If the Red Slipper Fits...

by Shirley Jump

  “You can lie to me but don’t lie to yourself. Go there and fight for what you want.”

  Sarah worried her lower lip, considering her sister’s words. Diana was right. Sarah wasn’t going there just to network. She wanted to walk in that room, see Caleb’s eyes widen, see the grin on his face as she approached.

  Damn it, despite everything, she wanted him.

  “I just want to…shine tonight,” Sarah said.

  “Okay then,” Diana said, her voice soft. “Let’s find you something amazing.”

  Sarah nodded and waved Diana toward her closet. “You’re the expert.”

  Diana grinned, already in her element. In this one area, Diana excelled. She had a natural affinity for clothes, makeup, hair. Even if she was going to the gym, she looked like a cover model. Whereas Sarah…

  Well, Sarah didn’t. She excelled on paper, not so much in the beauty department. “Do you want to know why I had those shoes?” she said.

  Diana poked her head out of the closet. “Which ones?”

  “The red stilettos.”

  “Oh. The one I threw out the window.” Diana cringed. “I’m sorry. Again.”

  “No, it’s fine. Really. I didn’t bring them home just for the article research. They were more. They were…a symbol, I guess.” She took a deep breath, then took a bigger risk in exposing her vulnerabilities. “Of everything about what I wanted to look like and how I wanted people to see me.”

  Diana gave her sister a curious look. “What are you talking about?”

  “The woman who wears shoes like those doesn’t look like me.” Sarah ran a hand down the jeans and T-shirt she’d slipped back into after her twentieth outfit option had met with rejection. At this rate, she’d end up going to the party looking just like she always did. Not exactly a way to make a memorable entrance. “She wears sexy dresses, and knows how to do her makeup just so, and has hair that curls perfectly over her shoulders. She’s witty with men and walks into a room as though she owns it. She wears all those shoes I buy and never wear.”

  A few days ago, for one moment, she’d felt like that woman. She had put the stilettos on, and become someone else. Had it really been the shoes, though? Or had she been ready to be someone else, to finally change her life?

  Sarah glanced over at Diana, fully expecting a snarky response.

  For a moment, her younger sister studied her. If she’d had sarcasm prepared, she let it go. “But, you are like those women. Even if you do just let those gorgeous shoes collect dust.”

  Sarah laughed. “Uh, no, I don’t think so. I work in this industry, Diana. I see these women every day. And I’m as far from looking like one of them as Alaska is from Hawaii.”

  Diana stepped out of the closet and came to stand beside Sarah. She cupped her older sister’s jaw, then turned her gently toward the full-length mirror. “You are so wrong, Sarah. You have just as much pizzazz as they do. Look at you, you…” Her voice trailed off.

  Sarah glanced over at Diana. “I what?’

  A smile wobbled on Diana’s face. Her eyes misted and her gaze held tight to the mirror image. “You…you look just like Mom.”

  Sarah’s heart contracted. The moment lingered in the air, and for a long time, neither sister said anything, just stared at the reflection of the one member of their family they’d never have again. In the mirror, Sarah didn’t see herself. Or see Diana. She saw her mother’s eyes, her mother’s chocolate-colored hair and the long delicate fingers that had plaited braids, rolled out cookies and smoothed away tears.

  Then her gaze drifted over to her younger sister, the one who infuriated her one moment and touched her heart in the next. They were so alike, the two of them, and maybe that was why they fought so much. Too close in age, too close in personality and both fighting for something that had slipped away from them in the middle of the night one cold October day.

  “So do you,” Sarah whispered, gazing at the younger image of herself, and saw there the reflection of the woman who had blessed them with their hair, their eyes, their smiles. “So do you.”

  Diana’s eyes glistened, and she nodded, mute. Sarah drew her little sister tight in against her, and pressed a kiss to her temple. She inhaled the raspberry-almond scent of Diana’s shampoo. It was the same shampoo she had used since high school, one that Sarah had given her for her sixteenth birthday. Somehow, it touched Sarah that this one thing had become Diana’s favorite, even still.

  Diana leaned into Sarah’s embrace, and Sarah tightened the curve of her arm. For a while, it felt like they were two little girls again, growing up too fast because their mother was too sick to parent and their father was too stuck in his grief to notice.

  “Diana, you were right,” Sarah said softly. “I did act too much like a mother and not enough like a sister. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay. There were days when I needed that.” Diana smiled. “I don’t think I ever said thank you, either. So, thank you for all you did, Sarah. For cooking the dinners, ironing my dresses, making sure I stayed in school. I needed you and you were there.”

  Tears misted in Sarah’s eyes, clogged her throat. She could only nod.

  “Well,” Diana said, stepping back and swiping at her face, “if you’re going to make it to this party on time, then I think we need to stop sobbing like a couple of soap-opera queens and concentrate on finding something in your closet that will bring out your inner supermodel.”

  “Sounds good, sis.” Sarah laughed, and felt a weight slide off her shoulders.

  “Yeah, it does.” Diana paused, then smiled. “Sis.”

  A simple word, just a few letters, but the sound of it meant that there was a new direction in their relationship. One that took Sarah out of the role of caretaker and put her right beside Diana, as siblings. They were going to be okay, she and sister. Just fine.

  “I think you have your work cut out for you.” Sarah picked up a long-sleeved purple dress she’d tried on before, then dropped it back onto the chair. Why she’d ever found that loud, polyester dress attractive, she didn’t know. Lord, one would think the fashion tips in the magazine would have sunk in by osmosis or something.

  A pile of back issues of Smart Fashion littered the comforter of the bed. Diana dropped down beside them and flipped idly through the first one, then turned the issue toward Sarah. “This would look good on you.”

  Sarah sighed. “Maybe if I was twenty pounds thinner. Look at how tight that skirt is.”

  Diana laughed. “Live a little, Sarah. This will look good on you, I guarantee it. And I know you have something similar in your closet.”

  “How do you know that?”

  Diana grinned. “Because I gave it to you last Christmas and you never wore it.”

  “Oh.” Sarah offered her sister an apologetic smile. “Sorry.”

  Diana disappeared inside the small walk-in closet, then emerged a moment later with a skirt, a blouse and a pair of high heels Sarah had bought months ago and never worn. “Here, try this.”

  Sarah started to protest again, but Diana just shoved the clothes into her hands. Sarah slipped out of her jeans and T-shirt, then into the leopard-print skirt and sheer black blouse. Before she even finished zipping the skirt, she felt different. Sexier. Sleeker. More in control.

  The shoes raised her height another four inches and made her legs look longer and leaner. The blouse’s deep V-front gave her a cleavage she hadn’t even realized was part of her chest. Still, it seemed like something was missing. “This is a great outfit, but…”

  “It doesn’t have that wow factor.” Diana put a fist on her hips and assessed Sarah. “What you need is a dress that will make people talk.”

  Sarah laughed. “You’ve seen my closet, Diana. I don’t own anything like that.”

  “Hello, hello!” Their father’s booming voice carried through the apartment. “Are you home, Sarah?”

  “In here, Dad.”

  Their father strode into the room. In his arms, he had a large cardbo
ard box. He set it by the door, then gave his daughters a big grin. “I got big news, girls. I’ve rented my own place. Move in next week. I think it’s about damned time I started taking care of myself.” He leaned forward, and gave his eldest daughter a wink. “If you ask me, I think it’ll be good for me to be on my own. Teach me some responsibility.” Diana snickered.

  “Dad, you can live here—”

  “No, it’s all decided. I’ll sure miss your cooking, but I’m doing the right thing, girls. Letting you all have your lives, and me…well, letting me have mine. Besides, I’m just moving down the street into one of those senior citizens’ complexes. I hear there’s lots of pretty women there.” He winked again.

  Sarah saw her father’s determination, and the excitement in his features. Unlike before, this time he was looking forward to being out on his own. “Sounds great, Dad. I’m happy for you.”

  “Me, too.” Diana came to stand beside her. “Real happy.”

  “You’re just glad you didn’t have to learn how to cook for me,” Martin said with a laugh.

  Diana chuckled. “That, too.”

  Martin grabbed the box out of the corner and handed it to Sarah. “Oh, I almost forgot. Somebody left that in your hall. It’s heavier than heck. I don’t know what it is, but it’s a hell of a lot more than flowers.”

  Sarah laid the box on the bed, then removed the lid. Nestled inside a bed of tissue paper lay a vibrant red dress, a deep, rich crimson, and a pair of matching stilettos with a bow on the heel and another on the strap.

  Her shoes. Her design. Right here, in living color. She lifted the dress out of the box, and as she did she saw the label sewn inside. LL Designs.

  Caleb.

  “That’s gorgeous,” Diana said. “And those shoes…to die for.”

  A smile filled Sarah’s face as she took in the ruby stilettos, the dress. Everything. “They’re not just gorgeous, they’re…adventurous. Spirited. Jeweled.”

  “Jeweled?” Martin said. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? I don’t see no rubies on there.”

  “It means Caleb listened.” Sarah clutched the dress to her chest and stood in front of the mirror, admiring the way the satiny fabric hung on her body. She held the shoes against her chest, amazed at how the slight bell bottom of the dress reflected the sweet bows of the shoes, while the deep scalloped neck added a degree of forties’-style sexy that would definitely catch some attention. He’d done this, dare she hope, just for her?

  “Caleb, huh?” Her dad grinned. “I knew I liked that boy.”

  Sarah sent a smile at her father and sister. “So do I.” She ran a hand down the soft fabric. “So do I.”

  “Well, put it on,” Diana said, giving Sarah a little shove toward the closet. “This we have to see.”

  A few minutes later, Sarah emerged. The dress fit perfectly, and the shoes seemed custom-made for her feet. They slid on with no effort, and curved along her arch, her toes, with a familiarity that made it seem as if she’d owned them all her life.

  Her father let out a low whistle. Diana gasped. Sarah stepped in front of the mirror and saw a woman transformed. Not just by what she was wearing, but by everything she had done and gone through in the last days. “Isn’t it amazing,” Sarah said, “how a simple outfit can make you look and feel like someone else?”

  Diana came up behind her and put her hands on Sarah’s shoulders. “You always were that woman, sis. She was just waiting inside you for you to let her come out and play with makeup.”

  Sarah laughed. “Yeah, I think you’re right.”

  “I think this calls for a celebration,” Martin said. “I’m getting a beer. You girls want anything?”

  Sarah and Diana laughed. “We’re good, Dad.”

  Once Martin left the room, Diana reached up and unclasped the clip holding Sarah’s hair in a messy bun, then smoothed her older sister’s hair onto her shoulders. “All my life, you’ve taken care of me, Sarah. And you were great at it, really. But I think you forgot to take care of you.”

  “Diana—”

  “No, I need to say this, Sarah. The other day, when I threw that shoe out the window, I was childish and mean and…wrong. I acted like a two-year-old.”

  “You…” Sarah stopped. “Okay, maybe you did.”

  “After that, I went home and stewed and stomped around my apartment, and then I got out this.” Diana crossed to her purse and pulled out a thick photo album. Sarah knew without looking what was in it. More than a decade’s worth of photos, assembled after their mother got sick, as Sarah tried to fill an album with memories that she wanted to hold on to. Memories that seemed to slip out of her grasp more every day. “Do you remember that time we played dress-up?”

  Sarah smiled. “We were always doing that.”

  “Yeah, but one day we dressed up as each other. You put on one of my pretty little ballet dresses, and a pair of Mom’s heels. You even wore the tiara.” Diana laughed. “And I—”

  “You put on my dark-brown jumpsuit. God, that thing was ugly. Why did I ever go out in public in it?”

  Diana laughed. “You used to love that ugly thing.”

  “Clearly, I had no taste. Even back then.”

  “Well, I’m not going to argue with that, especially after seeing a picture of that jumpsuit again.” Diana’s green eyes danced with a tease. “Do you remember how you acted when you wore the ballet skirt?”

  A flush filled Sarah’s cheeks. “I ran around the house like I was Clara in The Nutcracker. Thought I could dance. Unfortunately, I definitely couldn’t.”

  “You were a totally different person. All fun and lightness. And yes, you did dance like a chicken in the living room.” Diana laughed. “The point is, when you slipped out of being you for a little while, you had fun.”

  “I have fun.”

  “Uh-huh.” Diana grabbed an issue of Smart Fashion, flipped several pages in the magazine, then turned it toward Sarah. “Now there’s a man who turns exciting into a verb. Are you having fun with him?”

  Caleb Lewis’s grin stared back at her. The light from the camera had caught his blue eyes just right and they seemed to twinkle, to tease. To dare her. Damn, she missed him. She missed him every time he walked away.

  Sarah sighed. “That’s complicated.”

  “You want him,” Diana said.

  “I do not.” Sarah shook her head, then glanced again at Caleb’s image. A handsome man she’d found impossible to forget. “Okay, maybe a little.”

  “Then put on the ballet skirt, sis. And show this man you’re ready to dance.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  THE woman standing across the jam-packed room was not Sarah Griffin. Couldn’t be.

  Caleb took a step forward, peering through the layer of fog created by fog machines hanging from the ceiling, trying to see past the hundreds of people packing the room, and watched as the woman descended the stairs and entered the nightclub. If he hadn’t sent her the dress and shoes himself, he’d never have believed that it was her wearing it because she had truly been transformed.

  The silky red fabric skimmed her curves, hitching a little with each step. It grazed against her legs, stopping just above her knees. The scalloped neck dropped into a tantalizing curve across her cleavage. She’d pinned half her hair up onto the top of her head, leaving a cascade of curling tendrils to frame her face, drift along her shoulders, her back. She’d exchanged her glasses for a pair of contacts, which only made her eyes seem bigger, more luminous, particularly when paired with the dark red jewel tone of the dress.

  And the shoes…they were amazing. They accentuated her legs and emphasized the definition of her calves. Caleb’s gaze traveled down her slender frame, then up, then down again.

  Around him, he heard people murmuring about the dress. Calling it a showstopper. A gotta-have-it. He saw several women glancing over at Sarah’s shoes, and knew without a doubt he had a winner on his hands. But he didn’t care. The public would see the rest of the collection when
Fashion Week started tomorrow, and the orders would surely pour in, revitalizing LL Designs.

  He made his way through the crowd, ignoring the people who tried to get his attention. He couldn’t close the gap between himself and Sarah fast enough. The words he needed to say burned in his throat. He’d been so wrong, and he knew the dress and shoes were barely a beginning of an apology, but he hoped tonight he could make her see that he was sorry. When he reached her, though, his intentions stumbled with his nerves. “I see you got my gift.”

  “I did. Thank you.”

  “You look…amazing,” Caleb said. “Stunning.”

  A smile curved across Sarah’s face. “Jeweled?”

  He laughed. “That, too.”

  Sarah waved toward the stilettos. “These are amazing. Even better than the Frederick K shoes.”

  “They’re your design.”

  She smiled. “But you picked the color. And this deep ruby red is just so…vibrant.”

  “Like you. I couldn’t imagine a better color for you, Sarah Griffin.” He grinned, then put out a hand to her. “Let’s head to somewhere a little quieter. I want to talk to you.”

  She went to put her hand into his, then drew back. “Before we do, let me ask you something. Do you still think I wrote that article about your mother?”

  “That’s what I want to talk to you about. But not here. Let’s go—”

  She shook her head, and everything inside him ached to touch her, but she was already backing away. He reached for her, but she slipped out of his grasp. “I can’t do this, Caleb. I’m sorry.”

  “Sarah!”

  Caleb started to follow her into the sea of people that had swallowed her up when he felt someone clap him on the shoulder. He turned back, about to tell whoever it was that he didn’t have time to talk. Then stopped.

  “So, you ready to sell yet?” Frederick K’s voice boomed above the music, the conversations of those around them. “Because my offer is going down every day.”

  “Stop wasting your breath, Frederick.”

  “Come on, Caleb. Why are you hanging on to a sinking ship? Hell, the whole world knows that LL Designs is nothing without Lenora.”