Alice in Glass Slippers

by L. C. Davenport

  ***

  Adam Wentworth hated traveling.

  His luggage always got lost. It was in Italy this time. His rental car always left a little something to be desired. On this trip, the car ran fine, but had an unfortunate ability to lock itself and stay locked, no matter how many times he pushed that stupid button on the key fob. And there was always at least one person, inevitably an employee at the mall, who thought they were meant for each other. Brittany Walker’s crafty, heavily made up face came to mind, and he shuddered. There was rarely any way to discourage them, and Miss Walker was hardly the exception.

  At least one of his problems would be solved in the next hour, though. The rental agency was sending a new car–along with, he hoped, a crowbar. But in the meantime he was stuck at this sad excuse for a restaurant with nothing to do.

  He hated eating by himself, too. He rubbed his jaw and sighed. It was going to be a long six months.

  With nothing else to do, Adam headed across the street to where the bookshop was still open. It wouldn’t hurt to look around, he mused. He used to love reading before he became so busy with mall business that he hardly had any time left over to scan the headlines of the local paper, much less a book, and he missed it.

  Feeling slightly more cheerful, he pushed open the door and let the warm, book-scented air fill his lungs. It was good to be back.

  He made his way through the nonfiction section and was headed for the histories when he stopped in his tracks.

  There, sitting in the middle of the romance shelves, was the girl from the shoe store the day before. Alice.

  He could tell it was her even with her face bent forward. Adam glanced down at his feet and curled his toes in appreciation. He hadn’t meant to be so snide with her. After all, from the inside the shop hadn’t looked as promising as Kyle had promised. However, she’d somehow managed to not only sell him the perfect pair of dress shoes, but also put him in his place while she did it.

  In a very sweet, enchanting sort of way.

  He watched as she raised her head and glanced around. Her cheeks looked shiny, like her makeup had been rubbed off. Then, when she raised her eyes even higher, he could see why. She’d been crying.

  Now, Adam usually didn’t know what to do with crying females, but for some reason he knew exactly what to do with this one. After all, he reasoned, it was probably his fault that she was crying in the first place. It wasn’t like he’d been his normal charming self yesterday evening.

  So he did the only thing he could. He walked around until he was behind her, leaned over her shoulder, murmured a very heartfelt, “I’m sorry”, near her ear, and dropped his last clean handkerchief in her lap.

  Then he ran and hid.

  He stood, heart racing, behind a row of romance novels and watched as she picked his handkerchief up slowly and examined it. She looked around for the owner, and when he ducked even further behind the shelf–it was very inconvenient at times to be quite so tall–he was staring at a picture of a woman who was wearing some sort of nightgown that left very little to the imagination.

  He jumped back and fell onto the floor and into the rows of books behind him. As they toppled onto the ground with a crash, he knew that his day couldn’t possibly get any worse.

  But of course, whenever a statement like that pops into a man’s head, he’s almost assured that it’ll be proven wrong.

  A very short, very stout saleslady with wire-rimmed glasses appeared in front of him as though by magic. “Were you planning on buying that?” she asked, peering down her stubby little nose at him.

  “Buying what?” he asked blankly before realizing that the same book that had caused all the commotion was now in his lap. “Ah, yes. ‘The Love Pirates.’” He hadn’t noticed that the nearly naked woman was, indeed, wearing an eye patch. “I think I’ll pass.”

  The saleslady had told him in no uncertain terms was he to help with re-shelving. Adam made his way around the books and he glanced back at Alice. She had wiped her face dry and was staring at his handkerchief with a strange expression on her face.

  Maybe he’d ask her out to dinner. It would give him an opportunity to apologize for his bad behavior, and he’d have the added benefit of a dinner partner.

  He opened the door and paused. The fact that she was beautiful didn’t hurt matters, but there was something about that young woman that intrigued him. And if there was one thing Adam Wentworth couldn’t resist, it was an intrigue.

  Now all he had to do was convince her that he could remember his manners all the way through a three-course meal.

  How hard could it be?

  Chapter Four

  Alice entered The Glass Slipper the following morning feeling a little off kilter. She hadn’t seen who’d dropped the handkerchief in her lap, but it must have been Adam. Who else did she know with the initials AHW?

  Wondering idly what the ‘H’ stood for, Alice placed the handkerchief in a bag under the garbage can, just as Brittany flounced in. “Has Adam come in yet?” she demanded even before she checked her reflection. This must be quite the crush, Alice thought in amusement. Brittany was addicted to staring at herself like some people were to coffee. She couldn’t function until she was sure she looked positively fabulous.

  “We’re not open yet, Brittany.”

  Brittany scowled. “Don’t do that, dear.” Mimi’s voice wafted into the room. “Nothing’s more unattractive to a man than frown lines.”

  Whitney, who’d trailed in after her mother, slipped past her and started to plug in the vacuum. “Whitney!” Mimi cried. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  Whitney jerked back with wide eyes. “Vacuuming?” she whispered.

  Mimi grabbed it out of her hands and thrust it at Alice, who took it automatically–even though she’d vacuumed the night before. “You don’t do this kind of work,” she cooed at her daughter. “This is what Alice Riverton is here for. It’s her purpose.”

  Alice took a deep breath. Don’t do anything stupid… Don’t do anything stupid… Mimi steered her daughters toward the front gate. “Alice Riverton!” she barked without turning around. “Open this up. It’s time to get to work.”

  “Where are we going?” Brittany asked in a petulant voice. “Why did you make me get up this early? You know I detest to be here when the customers start coming in.”

  “Because we need to be ready when Adam comes back to ask you out.” Mimi strode into the hall and made her way toward the atrium. “We need to plan our attack. You need to make sure that Adam notices something different about you every day…”

  As Mimi’s voice died away, Alice and Whitney shuddered. “I know I wasn’t very pleasant to him yesterday,” Alice said without thinking, “but there’s no way I’d wish that kind of… torture on him. Maybe I should warn him.”

  There was a long pause. “We probably should.”

  Alice closed her eyes and groaned inwardly. “I’m sorry,” she told Whitney. “I didn’t mean that the way it came out. I’m sure Brittany is very… is very…”

  “Annoying? Obnoxious? Spoiled?” Whitney’s voice was only a little bitter.

  Alice’s eyes flew open. She didn’t know what to say, so she remained quiet.

  “I’m glad he met you first,” Whitney said, staring out the window in the direction her family had gone. “Brittany’s been hankering after him for so long it’s kind of refreshing to see her hopes dashed. Even if she can’t see it yet.” She smiled at Alice–a friendly, hesitant smile that told Alice there was more to Whitney Walker than she’d thought. “Here he comes, by the way. I’ll make sure you aren’t interrupted.”

  Whitney yanked the vacuum away from her and darted back through the store, leaving Alice to stare after her. Knowing she looked like an idiot, Alice turned toward the open gate.

  Adam stood there in the doorway for a moment while Whitney made her escape and watched Alice. He smiled slowly, then bent down and unlaced one of his shoes. Alice stared in fascination as he took it off
his foot and held it out. “This has got to be the best shoe I’ve ever worn,” he told her solemnly.

  “Is the other one defective?”

  Adam, who’d been making his way in her direction, stopped cold. “Excuse me?”

  “If that shoe is the best, then the one that’s still on your foot must be second rate. Are you here to return it?”

  Alice would have slapped a hand over her mouth. But since she was this far in, she didn’t want to give Adam the satisfaction of knowing that she was perfectly aware that she’d just royally embarrassed herself.

  Adam’s eyes narrowed at her, and then he grinned. “Very funny. I’m actually here to thank you for your help yesterday.” He looked at Alice expectantly.

  Was this the point where she was supposed to fall to the ground and kiss his feet for letting her use his handkerchief? Alice asked herself crossly. She’d never groveled in front of a customer before, and she was hardly going to start now. No matter how good-looking he was.

  “You’re welcome. Did you want another pair?”

  Adam’s eyebrows shot up. “Not if my luggage makes a miraculous return, but thanks for asking.” He cleared his throat and rested his shoe on the chair that was between them. It seemed like he was trying to decide something, Alice thought. She just didn’t know what that was.

  “Can I get anything else for you? I have bottled water in the back.”

  “No, no water.” Adam’s mouth moved like he wanted to scowl but had thought better of it. Instead he ran a hand through his hair, which, Alice noticed, didn’t get mussed in the slightest. He must rival Lewis in the hair-goo department, she decided. Lewis would be thrilled to hear he had something in common with the famous Adam Wentworth.

  Alice moved away to open the cash register for the day. When she’d shut the drawer, Adam was on the other side of the counter, his body entirely too close to hers for comfort.

  “I was wondering,” he said, shooting that blasted smile of his in her direction. “Would you like to–”

  The phone rang, drowning out the rest of his sentence. “Excuse me,” Alice told him politely, wondering what she’d just missed. “I’ll be right back.”

  Adam’s eyes stayed on her as she picked up the receiver. Before she could say anything, a weak voice rasped in her ear. “Marilyn?”

  Alice sighed in resignation. Would this guy not give up? “There’s no Marilyn here, sir,” she told the caller wearily. “Just like there wasn’t when you called yesterday, or the day before that. Who exactly are you looking for? Maybe I can help you find her. Are you sure you have the right number?”

  The man wheezed into the phone a few times. “She didn’t give me this number, but she told me where she worked, young lady.” He sounded breathlessly indignant. “I’ll have you know that I may be old, but I haven’t lost all my capabilities yet. I know Monroe is a famous last name, but Marilyn can’t help that.”

  Alice stifled a laugh, and her eyes met Adam’s. “You’re looking for Marilyn Monroe?” Obviously this gentleman had lost more than a few of his ‘capabilities’, as he put it.

  “I am. Please tell her I called.”

  The man hung up before Alice could ask for his name. Adam watched her hand as she replaced the receiver and wrote on the pad she kept by the phone, ‘Man called for Marilyn Monroe. If she appears, please give her this message.’

  Adam laughed outright and grabbed the paper. “That’s a good pick-up line,” he noted, studying the words she’d written. “Did it work on you?”

  Alice snatched her note back from him. “I hardly think so. It sounded like he was at least eighty.” They stood there in silence for what seemed like a long time until someone wandered in and Alice’s concentration shifted.

  “You never gave me an answer,” Adam said in a voice that implied he didn’t necessarily like to be kept waiting.

  “An answer to what?” Alice wasn’t really paying attention to him anymore. She was the only one out front, so she couldn’t exactly stand around the water cooler, so to speak, and yak.

  “I just asked you to dinner tonight.” Now Adam sounded irritated.

  If this was the way he asked a woman out, Alice thought, he was going to be sadly disappointed. “I’m sorry,” she said with false sadness, “but I was on the phone when you asked me so I didn’t hear you. If I had, though, I’m pretty sure I know what my answer would have been.”

  “Is that so? And what would you have said?”

  Alice wouldn’t have felt like her response was warranted if he hadn’t been so sure of success. “No.” She turned to the woman standing nervously in front of her. “May I help you?”

  “What do you mean, no?” Adam’s voice was incredulous.

  Alice smiled apologetically at the woman. “I’ll be right with you.” She moved back toward the cash register, Adam hot on her heels. “I’m working,” she hissed at him, planting her hands on her hips. “I realize you’ve probably never worked in retail before, but it’s considered rude to monopolize a person’s conversation unless you’re here to buy something.”

  From his expression, Alice assumed Adam Wentworth had never been talked to like that before–and he didn’t like it very much. “Thank you for the clarification,” he told her between clenched jaws. He nodded politely to the woman, who’d been watching the encounter with rapt interest, and stalked stiffly out of the shop.

  ***

  Whitney snuck in around noon and told Alice to go have some lunch. “Away from here,” she ordered, shooing her out the door. “I don’t want to see you for at least an hour.”

  Alice was so surprised that she forgot to protest and let Whitney push her down the hall. Lewis met her in front of his store, and they walked toward the food court together.

  “What’s up with you?” he asked, glancing at her face. “You look like something strange has happened.”

  Astonishing even herself, Alice grinned. “I think Whitney has finally found her backbone.” She laughed. “She kicked me out of the store and told me to grab some lunch. Are you headed that way? I haven’t had a lunch break in over a year, and I might need you to help me remember how to order food.”

  Lewis stopped dead in the middle of the atrium. “Whitney said that? As in, Whitney-who-has-a-terror-for-a-mother Walker? I don’t believe you.”

  Alice stuck her tongue out at him. For some reason, she was feeling very pleased with life in general for the first time in a long while. “She did,” she told him airily. “I think she might actually be a good person. Now, come on. Remind me where to go for the best food.”

  Half an hour later they were sitting by the window, watching people as they made their way in and out of the mall. “I know this is a strange thing to say about a food court, but it’s so peaceful out here,” Alice sighed. “It almost makes me wish Mom had sold Chinese food instead of shoes.”

  “You hate Chinese food,” Lewis pointed out.

  Shrugging, Alice took another bite of her pizza and slid down in her chair in contentment. “I probably would have loved it if I grew up around it. Except tofu,” she added, shuddering. “That stuff should be banned.”

  Lewis watched her eating. “You know all that grease will give you a spot,” he noted critically. “Don’t blame me when you wake up tomorrow morning with a huge pimple in the middle of your forehead.”

  Alice wrinkled her nose at him. “You’re just jealous,” she said cheerfully around another mouthful. “You’re bitter because you couldn’t convince me to order a salad like you did, and now you wish you’d followed my example.”

  “Ha.” He waited until she’d put her slice down and picked up her bottle of water before reaching across the table and grabbing it. Lewis inhaled her pizza while she spluttered water all over her blouse.

  “See if I go to lunch with you again,” she said crossly. “That pizza was good!”

  Lewis grinned, satisfied with himself. “I know.” He wiped his fingers on her napkin and gazed at her steadily. “I’ll buy you ano
ther one tomorrow. Now, tell Uncle Lewis something. What was Adam Wentworth doing, storming out of The Glass Slipper this morning? He looked furious.”

  Alice sighed. She’d been wondering all through their lunch how long it would take Lewis to bring this up. “He came in right after Mimi and Brittany left this morning,” she said slowly. “I think he was expecting me to express my undying gratitude for the use of his handkerchief last night. When I didn’t give it to him, he got a little miffed.”

  “Wait a minute.” Lewis’s gossip radar perked up. “What’s this about a handkerchief? I was with you last night, and I never saw him–or a handkerchief.”

  “He wandered by while you were getting the hot chocolate.” Alice explained what had happened at the bookstore, and ended with, “I’m afraid I wasn’t very nice to him this morning. He asked me to go to dinner with him, and I–ahem–could have been a little kinder when I told him ‘no’.”

  Lewis’s chin dropped so far she could see the scars from his tonsillectomy. “He what? He asked you out? Was Brittany there?”

  She smiled in spite of herself. “No, she wasn’t. It was almost like Adam had been lying in wait for her to leave.” She paused for a second. It had been very convenient for him to come in when he did. Maybe he had better judgment than she’d given him credit for.

  Lewis watched her closely. “Are you regretting your answer?”

  Alice thought about that. True, Adam hadn’t been charming and sweet, but maybe he wasn’t a morning person. And she certainly hadn’t made things easy for him with all her teasing about his new shoes. “I don’t know,” she finally replied. “A little, I guess. It would be good to go out again with a guy, and it would be a great place to apologize.” She raised her eyes to Lewis’s and grinned mischievously. “And, on the plus side, he is awfully sweet on the eyes.”

  Lewis leaned back in his chair and laughed. “And men get a bad rap for ogling buxom women,” he snickered. “Listen to yourself.”

  Alice could feel herself blushing. “That’s not the only reason,” she muttered, turning her attention to her damp blouse and trying not to look flustered. “I need to tell him, I’m sorry… and give his hankie back.”