Lewis jangled his keys impatiently. “My dad’s scheduled to come by in the next few days. I thought it’d be a good idea to clean it up a little.”
By that Alice knew he meant ‘get rid of all the bottles of hair goo and fancy soap’. She shook her head. “Eventually he’s going to have to come to grips with the fact that you can embrace your masculinity and smell pretty at the same time.”
Lewis just snorted. “You haven’t talked to my dad in a while, have you.”
Alice tilted her head and looked up at him. “I love you just the way you are,” she told him affectionately. “Even if you are the only guy I know who has a bathroom this amazing hidden in the back of his store.”
Lewis smiled a little before he ruffled her hair and pulled her toward the back door. “You have a bathroom,” he pointed out.
“Yeah, but it just has a toilet and a sink. Yours has a shower with two faucets, a dehumidifier, and a well-stocked linen closet. You have to admit, that’s a little rare for most bachelor apartments, much less a shop in a mall.”
Lewis sniffed. “So I like to keep up appearances. You’re just jealous.” He flung open the door and stood back. “What do you think?”
After the lights of Lewis’s store, it took a few seconds for Alice’s eyes to adjust to the darkness outside. When they did, all she could see was a large, rather ugly car. “Where’s the surprise?”
Lewis pushed her through the door and into the snow. “It’s right in front of you. Isn’t it great?”
Alice stood still for a second, wondering if all the hair products had finally seeped into her best friend’s brain. “You mean the car?” she asked cautiously.
Lewis beamed at it affectionately. “Isn’t it the best thing you’ve ever seen?”
Alice opened and closed her mouth several times but for the life of her she couldn’t produce any sound.
“You’re obviously overwhelmed.” Lewis patted her on the back in a soothing sort of way. “I had the same reaction the first time I saw her. You’ll get used to the thrill after a bit.”
“It’s orange,” Alice said faintly.
Lewis squinted at her. “No, it’s not. It’s tangerine.”
One glance at him told Alice that he was serious. “It’s great, Lewis,” she told him with as much enthusiasm as she could muster. “I didn’t know you were looking for a new car, though.”
He grabbed her arm and pulled her closer to inspect it. “I wasn’t, until last night,” he said happily. “I was driving home and saw it in someone’s front yard with a ‘For Sale’ sign in the window. I just had to have it.”
If Lewis’s dad had doubted his masculinity before, Alice thought, he’d be really stymied now. “What happened to your old car?” She peered through the window. All she could see was a sea of orange–no, tangerine–upholstery.
Lewis just waved his hand dismissively. “That old thing? I traded it for this one, so I basically got it for free. I did feel a little bad about that, though. That poor guy’s stuck with my Beamer.”
His dad was going to kill him. “I wouldn’t worry about that guy,” Alice told him. “I think he’s okay with the way things turned out. I mean, it’s not like the 3 Series is a bucket of bolts.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. It just didn’t have any character.”
“Well, this one has character in spades.”
The two of them spent the next hour going over the car inch by inch until Alice glanced at the clock. “I’ve got to get home,” she cried, pulling her legs out of the orange car. It was orange, no matter what Lewis said. “I promised Dad we’d have ice cream together tonight.”
Lewis waved at her absently. “I’ll talk to you in the morning,” he called from under the seat. Alice suspected he was trying to figure out how his mirror would fit there. After all, he’d told her a little defensively, the only thing the car lacked was a proper place to view his whole face at the same time.
***
The lights were on when Alice made her way into her father’s portion of the house. “Hey, Dad,” she called. “I brought fudge ripple.”
She could hear the clatter of spoons hitting the table, and when she walked into the kitchen, Arthur was setting two bowls out. “I’m surprised Lewis isn’t here,” he commented, looking behind her. “Is he outside?”
“No, he’s still at the mall. He traded in his BMW for an old clunker.”
“That doesn’t surprise me a whole lot.” Arthur’s tone was mild.
They ate in relative silence until Arthur cleared his throat. “How are things at work these days?” he asked, stirring the contents of his bowl and avoiding her eyes. “You hardly ever talk about it.”
What am I supposed to say? Alice thought resignedly. I work for Attila the Hun. They play loud, crass music, and all my old customers are afraid to come in when the owner’s there? “It’s okay,” she settled on finally. “It’s a lot different than it used to be.”
Arthur grunted and stirred faster. His ice cream was starting to resemble a milkshake. “I’m sorry I haven’t been there since…well, for a while,” he said slowly. “I haven’t felt like doing much of anything recently.”
Alice ate her ice cream faster so she could make a hasty escape, and was immediately attacked by a brain freeze. Arthur looked up when she winced.
“I know I haven’t been there for you, honey.” He reached over to put his hand over hers. “I haven’t been a very good father for you.”
There was no good answer to that, so Alice remained quiet.
“But I’m planning on changing that.” The softened ice cream sloshed against the sides of the bowl when he pushed it away. “Bill called to invite me to his cottage for the summer, and I accepted.”
Alice’s spoon halted in mid-air. “How is that going to make you a better father?” she asked, not caring that she sounded incredulous. “You just finished telling me that you were going to be more…aware. How are you going to do that from Florida while you mooch off your old college roommate?”
Arthur ran a hand through his thinning white hair. “I need to get away, gain some perspective,” he said quietly. “Everywhere I look I see traces of her and it’s driving me crazy. Leaving will help me remember the good times we had, and maybe I’ll stop dreaming about that horrible day last year when you called from the hospital.”
“You’re just thinking of this now? She’s been gone a while, Dad.” Alice fought to keep her voice even. She wasn’t sure that she was very successful.
Arthur’s voice held the sorrow of the ages when he responded. “I know.” He covered his eyes for a minute, and when he looked at her again his cheeks were damp. “I told Bill I’d leave next Monday. Will you see me off?”
Alice repressed the urge to say something snide like, “The first week in March is hardly the start of the summer,” and nodded instead. “I’ll be here.” Then she rinsed her bowl in the sink, placed it carefully in the dishwasher, and went up to her apartment where she’d be free to cry in peaceful anonymity.
***
Monday morning, Alice walked slowly into The Glass Slipper, wondering idly when Mimi would try to replace her sign. So far she hadn’t said a word about it. Alice was hardly going to bring it up.
Lewis bounded in at three seconds past ten, just as Alice was hoisting the gate open. “How did it go this morning?” he asked, glancing at her pale face.
Shrugging, she ran her fingers over a pair of sandals that Brittany had made her display the day before. Alice had tried to explain that it was March, and sandal weather in Michigan was still a long way off, but Brittany sneered and ordered twenty more pairs. Alice had nearly thrown the sandal at her.
“It went okay. He only took one suitcase with him, so maybe he’ll be back sooner than he says.”
Lewis opened his mouth, probably to tell her that she was better off living in the house alone than with a grief-stricken old man, when Mimi and the Walker sisters came in.
“Why aren’t you doing some
thing productive?” Mimi snapped, throwing her purse on the counter with a thud. For the thousandth time Alice wondered what she could possibly keep in there that was so heavy.
“I was just about to–”
“I was just about to tell Alice some news,” Lewis interrupted.
“News? What kind of news?” Mimi was a sucker for gossip, and Lewis was her best informant. Between that and the customers Lewis sent their way–at least used to send over–Mimi was always civil to him.
He glanced at Alice out of the corner of his eye. “Do you know who the Wentworths are?”
Brittany picked up an order form and started fanning herself. “You mean, Adam God’s-gift-to-single-women-everywhere Wentworth?”
Lewis rolled his eyes. “He has a father, Brittany. The elder Wentworth is the one that built this mall, and dozens of others across the Midwest. He’s sending his son here next week to oversee some remodeling. I think.” He frowned. “My sources are a little vague on his reasons for coming.”
Brittany squealed. “I’ve got to get prepared,” she cried, and darted out of the shop. Alice noticed she hadn’t remembered to take her wallet with her.
“How does Brittany know Adam Wentworth?” Alice wondered aloud. “I’ve been here my entire life, and I’ve never seen either of the Wentworth men.”
Lewis smirked at her. “The internet, Alice. I’m sure you’ve heard of it. She probably searched him online and found out that he was tall, dark, and handsome. Or, at the very least, insanely rich.”
“All of the above, actually. If I was ten years younger, Brittany would have some serious competition.” Mimi’s cool voice broke into their conversation. Alice almost gagged. Only ten years? She had to be at least fifty, and if Brittany was this excited about him, he couldn’t be much older than she was. Brittany didn’t like her boyfriends too old. “Thank you for the information, Mr. Hughes,” Mimi said sweetly. “I’m sure you need to get back to your own store.”
Her voice hardened when Lewis had disappeared around the corner. “Well, Alice Riverton, it appears that you have some work ahead of you.” She smiled to herself and pulled a roll of thick blue tape out of her purse. Perhaps that was what made the noise, Alice thought distractedly. “You have a lot to do in very little time. I’d suggest you start with the walls.”
Alice stared at the tape in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
“A complete remodel of the store. It’s highly overdue. I’ll make a list of everything I want you to do.” With that, Mimi grabbed her purse and hurried into the back room, humming the wedding march as she went.
Five days later, after everyone had gone for the night, Alice stood in the middle of The Glass Slipper and turned slowly in a circle. She felt like a gecko had swallowed her.
When she stopped, she stared at the walls for a long time, sank into a chair, placed her head in her hands, and sobbed until there were no more tears left.
Adam Wentworth had better be worth it, she thought fiercely. Somehow, she doubted it.
Chapter Three
If Adam Wentworth didn’t show up soon, Alice was going to hunt him down, drag him to The Glass Slipper by his left ear, and leave him to Brittany’s devices. It might be kind of fun…
“He’s bound to come today.” Brittany stared at her reflection in the mirror she’d made Alice install behind the cash register, running her fingers through her long hair. Alice swore that it grew lighter with every day that had passed since Lewis had told them about the Wentworth visit. By now it was nearly white. Brittany flung her hair over her shoulder and smiled at herself toothily. “I can feel it. How do I look?”
Alice resisted the urge to tell her that she looked slightly desperate. “Fine. Do you know when the new shipment’s supposed to arrive? Someone needs to be here to sign for it.”
Brittany pursed her lips. “Like I would know. Ask Whitney.”
“I did. She said you’d know since you placed the order.”
Brittany huffed and stomped around the counter. She grabbed a piece of paper and shoved it into Alice’s hands. “Read it for yourself.”
Alice scanned the note, which she’d already read three times before, and raised her eyebrows. “It says, ‘delivery time: Adam W has a nice rear’. Did you write this?”
Two red spots blossomed on Brittany’s cheeks, and she snatched the paper back. “I’m going shopping,” she snapped, and stalked past the rows of shoes, out the door, and into the mall’s main hallway.
Ten seconds later, Whitney appeared from the back room. “Brittany forgot her wallet,” she said, clutching a purse to her chest. “I’ll be back in a second.”
Alice laughed to herself and resumed her dusting. She nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard a voice clear behind her.
“Excuse me, miss,” said a male voice. “My fiancée sent me here to order a pair of shoes for my wedding.”
Alice turned to see a young man, obviously nervous, gripping a piece of paper that undoubtedly had the name of her store on it. “You must be Carrie’s groom,” she said, smiling at him. He just looked more uncomfortable.
“I am. Can you help me? She swears this is the only store in town that can get me the right pair of shoes.”
Alice was sure Carrie hadn’t meant that literally. She probably felt guilty for getting Alice in trouble and had sent her man in to make financial amends. “I don’t have a lot of experience in men’s shoes,” she told him cheerfully, “but I’ll do the best I can. What exactly were you looking for?”
Halfway through his garbled explanation, Whitney came back in. She took one look at the man and stopped in shock.
“Whitney, this is Grant, Carrie’s fiancée. I believe you met her when she came to pick up her slippers last week.”
Recognition dawned in Whitney’s eyes, and she came forward with her hand outstretched. “Is Alice helping you find something?” she asked. Her voice was still quiet, but it sounded comforting and reassuring. “I’m sure she can steer you toward something both you and Carrie will like.”
“It would help if I knew what she’s looking for,” Grant muttered under his breath. Whitney’s smile became even gentler.
Forty minutes later, Grant was looking much more relaxed. He even cracked a smile at Alice. “I’ll call you when these come in,” she told him, scribbling down his phone number as he rattled it off. “I think you’ll be pleased with what you chose.”
“I still don’t see why you had to order five pairs of shoes,” he said, frowning down at his feet. “I only need one.”
Alice laughed. “I told you I wasn’t very good at men’s shoes. I want to make sure you have what fits, and what’s comfortable. I can always sell the others, or send them back.”
Grant shook his head in wonder. “I’ll never understand women and shoes,” he said.
Alice stared down at the catalogue in front of her for a long time. She and Belinda had discussed selling men’s shoes, but her mother’s death and the store’s subsequent sale had put an end to that. Maybe she could sell them on the sly, like she had been for her old customers.
She tapped her finger against her chin thoughtfully. When she raised her head, Whitney was standing on the other side of the counter, watching her with a wistful expression.
“I’m sorry, Whitney. I must have been wool gathering. Do you need me to do something?”
Whitney shook her head. “I listened while you talked to Grant,” she said in a quiet voice. “You were very nice to him. If it had been Brittany, he would have run screaming out the door ten seconds after he walked through it.”
Alice fought the urge to chuckle. “I’m not sure Brittany would approve of what I just did,” she responded, closing the catalogue and stowing it in its hiding place under the garbage can. No one ever emptied it but her, so it was the safest place to keep things she didn’t want Mimi or Brittany to see.
Whitney shrugged. “I’ll take care of her. We’ll get our nails done when he comes to try them on.” She flash
ed a smile at Alice so small, she was sure she’d imagined it, and retreated to the back to sign for the delivery.
***
A week later, Brittany had just about given up on Adam Wentworth ever showing his face in the mall. “He’s not coming,” she whined, inspecting herself yet again in the mirror. “I don’t know why I bother getting all dressed up every day when the only people that see me are customers.” She said the last word like it was coated with rancid milk.
“Those customers pay for you to go to the salon,” Alice pointed out. “You might want to think about being sweet to them.”
Brittany made a very unladylike noise just as Mimi glided in. Alice wasn’t sure how she did that; for all intents and purposes, Mimi should be more of a stomper than a glider, but somehow she pulled it off. It must have come after years and years of practice, Alice mused. Or a really exacting ballet teacher.
“What are you smiling at, Alice Riverton?” Mimi snapped. “Can’t you see that Brittany is distraught?”
Alice’s gaze flew to Brittany, who was moping at herself in front of the mirror. It looked like she was trying to perfect a sexy pout. If she stuck out her bottom lip much further, she’d impale it with her overly spiky heels and poke a hole in it.
“Alice Riverton! Stop laughing at my daughter!” Mimi threw the look of death at Alice, and her smirk vanished. “You’ll stay here the rest of the day, and for the rest of the week, by yourself. Then you’ll learn how invaluable we are.” Mimi grabbed Brittany’s elbow and moved her out of the shop. “Come, darling. I think you need a new outfit.”
Alice and Whitney sighed heavily at the same time. Whitney barked out a laugh that turned into a hiccough when Lewis wandered in.
“What are you doing here?” Alice asked, sinking into a chair. They hadn’t been as busy recently as they had in the months past. For once, the lack of customers was a relief. “I thought you had some big meeting today with the cookie lady.”
Lewis grinned at Whitney and leaned against the counter. “It didn’t take very long to convince her that my intentions were honorable,” he told her smugly.
Alice in Glass Slippers Page 3