by Scott, Lisa
She felt a hand slide around her waist. “Ready for our last dance?” Dirk’s voice was deep and sultry and she wondered what was wrong with her for not feeling attracted to him.
But they had to keep up the charade, so she nodded, and Dirk led her to the dance floor. He spun her and dipped her as the crowd oohed and ahhed and the cameras rolled. Then, with a few minutes left until midnight, he escorted up her on stage, where she sat on a beautiful marble bench. He stepped aside as Henry approached her, wearing a clip-on wireless microphone.
“Cindi, your magical week is coming to an end. At Jiminy Shoes, we like to say shoes can change your life, and indeed, they changed yours.”
She looked up at him and nodded, blinking back the tears. She wished it was just the two of them there, and she could kick off the shoes without a second thought and fold herself into his arms.
Henry slid off the first shoe. The lights on the stage dimmed; the candles on the table were blown out. The place was whisper quiet and she got goose bumps from the drama of it all. When he took off the second shoe, the spotlight on her went out. The room was in total darkness.
One of his assistants escorted Cindi backstage. Then the lights came back on and Henry was announcing the next lucky woman to wear the enchanted shoes. Someone in Sweden. Probably a supermodel so beautiful he’d be willing to make his first international trip.
She decided she’d let herself pout for a day or two, then she’d work to parlay the media attention into more business for herself. The Princess Party Planner? The Best Foot Forward Event Planner? She’d come up with something. But for now, she was crashing like a chocoholic coming off the sugar high of a lifetime.
***
As the party guests filed out of the ballroom, Henry watched Cindi wander over to the fountain and toss in a coin. She sat on the edge gazing at the water.
Despite the publicists waiting outside for him hoping to set their clients up with the next crystal shoe girl, he went to her. “If you wished for another week with the shoes, I can’t make it happen. Sorry.”
She looked up at him. “No, I’m fine.” She scrubbed the heel of her hand across her cheek. Shit, she’d been crying.
He sat next to her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize this would be so hard on you. You can come pick out all the shoes you want tomorrow. I promise.”
She laughed through her tears. “A week ago that would have been a dream come true.”
“But it’s not now?”
She shook her head.
He opened the box he’d been carrying with him. “Here, while no one’s looking, wear them one last time.” He handed her the shoes and she set them in her lap.
“Thanks,” she whispered, but didn’t move to put them on.
“Ah, so it’s not that either. It’s problems with Dirk, then. Was he just after your feet?” He hoped he sounded funnier than he felt.
She laughed. “No, just after publicity.”
He gritted his teeth. “You sure? You two seemed pretty interested in each other.” He was still trying to erase their kisses from his mind.
“I was just trying to annoy my stepsister, and he was just trying to get in the tabloids. It worked.”
His heart surged. Was she truly not interested in one of the hottest guys in Hollywood? “And now?”
She shrugged. “It’s over. That’s all it ever was. He was totally upfront with me about it. And I told him I wasn’t interested either.”
He was relieved, but confused. “So, what’s bothering you so much you came over here to make a wish? You had everything this week. What more could you wish for?”
She closed her eyes. “Now I have to find a job and a new place to live.”
Ah. He had to make this right for her. Maybe what his mother had said was true, he did worry about people. But Cindi was worth worrying over. “Don’t think twice about a job. We’d be smart to have you working in one of our stores. People would come in just to see you. We can get you a job for now. But you deserve something better. And I’ll see that you have another week in the hotel so you can find a place to live. Is that what’s making you so sad?”
She looked up at him. “I thought the clothes and shoes and all the attention would be a dream come true. It’s what I’ve always wanted. It reminded me of when I was little and my father showered me with gifts. This week was great, really.” She frowned. “At first anyway. But then I realized what I really missed was the time spent with my father, not the stuff he got me. And now, I’m going to miss the time I spent with you.” She looked down at the shoes in her lap, running her fingers along the heels.
He stared at her. “You’re going to miss me?”
She nodded. “I guess the timing’s just wrong. I know you’re not looking for a girlfriend right now. You’re focused on your career. I get that. And now you’re going to be busier than ever. It’s over.”
He reached for her hand, but his mother picked the perfect time to wander over. “So, I suppose you’ll be going to Sweden to work with the next shoe girl?”
“No, don’t worry, Mother. I’ll be here for you.”
She waved off the idea with a white-gloved hand. “Too bad you couldn’t go. You should see some of the world instead of doting on me. You need to get yourself a nice girl. I won’t be around forever. And besides, I have a gentleman friend in town. The butcher, who is going to love these new shoes.” She waggled her eyebrows. “And the baker I’ve been seeing on the side might like them, too. Now where’d all those waiters with the champagne go?” She wandered off looking for another drink.
Cindi grabbed his arms. “Henry, you should go to Sweden.”
“You don’t want me here?”
She widened her eyes; her lovely, green eyes. “I don’t want you to miss any more of your life.”
He pursed his lips and looked up at the ceiling. Then he looked back at her. “Do you have a passport?”
She nodded.
“Let me make a phone call.” He walked across the room so Cindi couldn’t hear the conversation. Once he got the owner of Jiminy on the line, Henry got the answers he was hoping for.
“What do you think about coming to Sweden with me? You’re the new director of our Do Good Shoe Good project.”
She looked up at him and tossed the shoes aside. He picked her up and swung her around. Then he swept his lips across hers, until the plump pout of her lower lip was tucked between his in a delicious kiss. “So, you’re not upset about not being a princess anymore?”
“I feel like a princess now. That wishing well of yours worked.”
He wrapped his arms around her and held her against him. They fit together like a perfect pair of shoes. It was probably too soon to tell her, but the owner of Jiminy Shoes had promised the crystal heels would belong to Cindi for good when she and Henry got married. Henry smiled as he was kissing her, just thinking of it.
“What?” she asked, between kisses.
“I always wondered what happily ever after felt like.”
Red
Rose had four-dozen pumpkin seed muffins left over from the Shoe Ball the night before along with three-dozen Sea Goddess muffins. They hadn’t been quite the hit she’d hoped. She hung the closed sign in the window and grabbed her basket of leftovers. Seemed like Grandma Kate was the only one benefiting from her floundering bakery. Rose couldn’t bear to toss out the leftovers at the end of the day, so she often stopped by Grandma’s on the way home to share the goodies. The lease on Yum Yum Good For You was up in three months, and she’d probably have to close the shop. She couldn’t argue with the numbers on the balance sheet, but it cleaved her heart in two just thinking of it. At age twenty-five, she hadn’t found success yet in her personal life or her professional life. The word “failure” nipped at the edges of her sleep every night.
She slipped on her long, red cape and stepped outside into the chilly night. Wearing such a bright color increased her chances of grabbing a cab by fifty percent—she’d done several informal compa
risons to back up her theory. Her red cape had become her thing and she now owned three in different styles and never had to worry about a ride. Sure, it clashed with her hair, but so what?
The second cab she spotted pulled over to pick her up. “Where to?” asked the driver.
“Grimm Towers, over on Sherwood Street.”
He whistled. “Swanky.”
“Oh, I don’t live there. My grandmother does.” No, Rose had a tiny studio downtown. It was cozy and cheap. If the bakery folded she couldn’t exactly downsize her digs. Anything smaller than her apartment would be considered a roomy closet. Quite a difference from the rambling farmhouse she grew up in out in the country.
She pulled back the checkered cloth covering her basket. “Can I interest you in a free pumpkin seed muffin? It’s made with spelt flour, oats, bran, and organic pumpkins, topped with pumpkin seeds. I own the bakery back there.”
The cabbie looked at her in the rear view mirror, wrinkling his big nose. “Got a cupcake? I could really go for a cupcake.”
She let out a long sigh. More than one customer had wandered into her shop—only to make a quick exit when they didn’t spot any cupcakes or gooey treats. She’d been so certain there was a market for her healthy baked goods. After her mother died from a heart attack, she’d been determined to give the world better food choices. Maybe it would’ve helped her mother; Rose owed her that.
Her bakery offered it all: gluten-free, casein-free, vegan, and multi-grain breads, muffins, and buns. The recent seaweed trend inspired her new Sea Goddess Muffin. It hadn’t caught on yet. Hopefully Grandma Kate would like them; she had quite a few in her basket. Perhaps Rose would tell her they were pistachio muffins instead.
She rubbed her thumb over the ridges on her basket, trying to soothe her nerves. What was she going to do if the bakery closed? She had no idea, but she needed to come up with a plan soon. She’d been shocked when Jiminy Shoes contacted her about showcasing her goods. She’d hoped the Shoe Ball would bring some new clients, but not so much. Her baked goods had remained untouched next to the cupcakes and desserts. Barring some lottery win or wish on a star, her bakery would be history. Her pity party consumed the rest of the ride and finally, the cab came to a stop. “We’re here already?”
“Yep. Over the river and through the woods. Well, past Sherwood park, anyway.”
“Thanks.” Always the marketer, she gave him her card. “Just in case you change your mind about healthy muffins. A daily serving of oats can reduce your cholesterol by ten percent, you know.”
“Uh, thanks, but I’m going to grab a pizza and take my chances with a slice of sausage and double cheese.”
Sausage and cheese had been her mother’s favorite. She was fairly certain her mother had never eaten bran in any shape or form. After paying the driver, she took the elevator up to the 55th floor, rang her grandmother’s doorbell and stepped back. Swinging her basket back and forth, she waited. And waited. And waited.
Rose studied the square-toed, low-heeled shoes she’d stuffed her feet into that morning and frowned. She felt like a frump compared to all the glamorous people the night before.
She rang the bell again. What was taking her Grandmother so long? A nervous feeling left her hands shaking. She couldn’t lose Grandma, too. Her mother had passed two years ago; Rose couldn’t take another tragedy. She pounded the door with her fist. “Grandma?”
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” her grandmother said on the other side of the door.
Rose let out a long breath once she heard her voice.
The heavy door opened and Rose blinked at her Grandmother. Her heart rate picked up again. “Are you okay, Grandma Kate?” Grandma’s face was flushed and a sheen of perspiration covered her forehead. Grandma spent an hour every morning applying full makeup—eyebrow pencil, lip liner, false eyelashes—then tried on at least a dozen outfits before settling on the perfect one for the day: a casual pantsuit for a trip to the market, a form-fitting dress for the charity luncheon, smart business wear when she attended to her business affairs. Yet there she stood in her doorway with her hair out of place, much of her make up worn off, and wrapped up in a silky golden robe.
Rose reached for her arm. “Are you sick? What’s going on?” Fear tied itself into a knot in her belly. Or maybe it was the parsnip bread she’d made earlier. That hadn’t turned out so well.
Grandma led her inside. “I’m not sick. In fact, I’ve never felt better.”
That’s when Rose noticed a man putting on a black wool coat in the living room. A man of the tall-dark-and-handsome variety. And young. Much younger than her grandmother. Under his coat, he was dressed casually, in loose pants and a turtleneck. Was he a neighbor, maybe? Someone from the building co-cop asking Grandma to keep her holiday decorations off her door? Even Rose thought the Valentine’s wreath covered with cupids that resembled drunk, naked babies was a bit tacky.
The man gave Rose the once over. Suddenly, her shoes seemed real interesting. She looked up at Grandma with wide, worried eyes—which flicked over to the strapping young man who widened his stance and crossed his arms. What was he doing, staking his claim?
Cricket trotted out and sat at his feet, looking up at him adoringly. Her jaw dropped. That little pooch didn’t like anyone.
Grandma gave Rose an odd look, then walked over to the man and hugged him. She tipped up on her toes and whispered in his ear. His eyebrows shot up, then he shrugged and nodded. Grandma giggled. Her grandmother giggled. “Thanks, Jack. That was wonderful.” Her cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of pink.
“You were great,” he answered.
Rose’s mouth dropped open again. She looked back and forth between her grandmother, and this man, with his blue eyes, big muscles, and self-assured smile. Scratch that, it wasn’t a smile—it was a smirk. He was smirking at Grandma Kate! And you only smirk if you have something to smirk about.
Then Grandma smirked back at him. Heck, even Cricket seemed to be smirking. Oh, my organic bran rolls. Was Grandma having an affair?
Grandma broke their embrace and eyed Rose’s basket. “I’m starving. What’ve you got in here?”
Rose couldn’t take her gaze of the man looking possessively at her grandmother. “Uh, Sea Goddess muffins and a few pumpkin seed muffins.”
Her grandmother sighed. “I could really use a cupcake after … that.”
The basket slipped from Rose’s grip and thudded onto the floor.
“Did I tell you, Jack, my granddaughter owns the Yum Yum Good For You Bakery?”
“You didn’t.” His voice was deep and gravelly—just like an illicit lover’s voice should be. “A bakery that’s good for you? That doesn’t sound very exciting.” He walked over and picked up her basket, inspecting the contents.
Rose planted her hands on her hips. “Some people care about what they eat.”
He reached into the basket and pulled out a Sea Goddess Muffin. “What big muffins you have. I’d be interested in the calorie count of this versus a cupcake. Maybe they’re not so healthy after all.”
Huh. She had no idea how many calories were in her muffins. She was more interested in providing healthy ingredients. She tipped up her chin. “I’ll find out and let you know.”
He looked her up and down in a way that made her feel like she’d forgotten a key article of clothing that morning—even though she was still wrapped in her cape. “Good.” He turned his attention to Grandma. “So, I’ll see you Thursday, Kate?”
She winked at him. Winked! “I’ll be looking forward to it.”
Then he pointed at Rose. “And I hope to see you later, Red.”
“It’s Rose.”
“Nope. With hair and a cape like that, you’re Red to me.”
The nerve of him making up a nickname for her. She’d just met him! What kind of guy does that? “That’s nervy. You don’t even know me.”
“Oh, that’s just his way. He calls me Kitten,” Grandma said.
Rose started coughing and
spotted empty wine glasses on the marble coffee table in the living room. She couldn’t even find the words to demand an explanation; not that one was needed. Grandma was having an affair with this—this big, handsome player. Wasn’t there a knitting circle for her to join? Shouldn’t she have an elderly gentleman friend who smelled like olives and enjoyed bocce? You know, an appropriate boyfriend for a grandmother? Someone who would call her ma’am instead of kitten?
But then again, Grandma didn’t exactly look like someone’s old nana. She was just sixty-six, but she still wore her hair in a beautiful honey-blond bob, fit into her size four designer suits and never left her home if she wasn’t fully made up and wearing fabulous shoes. And Rose didn’t know for sure, but Grandma Kate most likely did not wear granny panties. All that, and she still had a smoking hot figure.
The man standing in her apartment was admiring that as well. Knowing she was loaded probably didn’t hurt either. He swaggered past them, and kissed Grandma’s hand while smiling at Rose.
Her eyes widened and she strapped her arms across her chest. When he finally let himself out the door—with the Sea Goddess muffin—Rose turned to her grandmother. “What was that?” she managed to ask.
Grandma blinked at her, suppressing a smile. “Don’t you mean ‘Who was that’ dear?”
Rose turned up her hands. “Yes, who was that and what was he doing here and what’s with all the smirking and winking and giggling?”
“That was Jack Wolff and I’m sure you can figure out what he was doing here.” Grandma plucked the wine glasses off the table and headed for the kitchen with a swing to her hips.