If the Stiletto Fits.... Wendy Etherington
have peace in the city,” Lily said. “What the hell do you think Central Park’s for?”
“And the Met,” Kristin added. “Culture, refinement, tourists whispering and pointing at the Van Goghs.” She paused. “Okay, maybe not.”
Lily glared at her friends. “Hel-lo! The theater, the clubs, the restaurants, the shopping, Bloomingdale’s, Tiffany, Henri Bendel—”
“I sincerely doubt James will mourn the loss of Henri Bendel,” Gwen said.
“Cosmetics and accessories are probably not his thing,” Kristin agreed.
But Lily grinned. “I’ve got it. The Yankees.”
Gwen shivered. “Oooh, Derek Jeter.”
“James is a huge Yankee fan,” Lily continued. “I bought him season tickets for his birthday. The games are practically the only time he takes off, and if he can’t go, he follows them on the radio or Internet. Yankee Stadium is quite a commute from Connecticut.”
Kristin gestured with her glass. “Oh, that’s good. Love these, by the way.” She picked up the silver sandal Lily had kicked off earlier.
Tears burned in Lily’s throat. “I’ll never design another pair once he leaves.”
Gwen tossed a pillow at her. “Get real, girl.”
Kristin set the shoe aside, then met Lily’s gaze. “Are you sure losing your assistant is all that you’re worked up about?”
“It’s not like he plays a minor role in my life.”
Kristin and Gwen exchanged a glance. “Are you sure his business expertise is the only thing you’re worried about losing?” Kristin asked.
“What else would I be worried about losing?”
“What Kristin is trying—and not too well—to ask you is…do you have the hots for him?”
Those two had lost their minds. The hots for James? The man who thought wearing a beige shirt instead of a white one was a fashion risk? The man who probably organized his sock drawer? As an assistant, she wouldn’t have anybody else. As a potential lover, forget it. “Of course I don’t have the hots for him. Where in the world did you get that idea?”
“You’re really messed up about this,” Kristin said gently.
“Well, yeah. I’m worried my business is going to go down the drain!”
“That’s all?” Gwen pressed.
“Isn’t that enough?”
Kristin angled her head. “I don’t know. I think you might be making a mistake. James is…”
“Smart,” Gwen said.
“Responsible,” Kristin said.
“Loyal.”
“Dreamy.”
Lily folded her arms across her chest. “My assistant.”
“Not for much longer,” her friends said in unison.
“Please stop,” Lily said dryly. “You’re cheering me up way too much.” She reached for the wine, pouring the last few drops into her glass. A bit woozy, she rose and headed to the fridge for another bottle. As she refilled everyone’s glasses, she considered her strategy with James. He would respond to a logical list of pros and cons—though without the pros, since she didn’t want him to leave. But she needed a backup. He would probably find a way to argue around her cons. She hadn’t succeeded in moving him an inch earlier.
She paced the den. “Maybe I could sue him. For canceling our contract or something.”
“But you said he’s finishing his contract,” Gwen said.
Kristin shook her head. “Oh, that’s good. Kill him with kindness.”
Lily stopped and smiled for the first time all night. “That’s it!” James didn’t realize how much she needed him. He didn’t know how grateful she was that he’d done so much for her business. She had a tendency to be single-minded, and the designs for the Spectacular had taken up so much of her energies. She’d neglected her most valuable employee. As she’d learned so long ago at the women’s business seminar, that was a big no-no.
“I haven’t complimented him enough,” she went on. “I haven’t let him know how much I appreciate him.”
Kristin set down her wineglass with a click. “You could wine and dine him. Bring him gifts, little treats with his coffee breaks.”
“And what about a raise?” Gwen added.
Kristin frowned. “Don’t you think that’s a bit obvious?”
“Since when is Lily ever subtle?”
“Stop nagging,” Lily said, planting her hands on her hips. “And help me think of a plan.”
EARLY THE NEXT MORNING, as James was answering his e-mail, Lily appeared in his office with a cookie—one of those giant chocolate-chip ones with lots of icing that formed mostly illegible letters of white goo. Thonk Yau was written on the top.
“You shouldn’t have.”
James marveled that with bloodshot eyes, Lily still managed to beam as she set the box on his desk. “Just wanted to let you know you were appreciated.”
That was his Lily—subtle down to the tips of her hot-pink, patent-leather ankle boots.
He tore off a small piece and offered it to her. She curled her lip, and laid her hand across her stomach. “It’s a bit early for me.”
Striving for polite, but suspicious as hell of her motives, James popped the cookie in his mouth. After swallowing, he asked, “Late night?”
Guilt skittered across her face. “A bit.”
What exactly had she done on this date?
“Actually, I got back early from my date and called Gwen and Kristin.”
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