If the Stiletto Fits.... Wendy Etherington
a bad thing. They look really uncomfortable to me.”
The waitress appeared with their drinks, then took their orders. James ate in this casual restaurant down the street from his apartment often. He liked the worn tables, open-air kitchen, simple food. Others obviously agreed with him, he thought, noting the entryway crowded with people waiting for tables.
After a sip of wine, James admitted, “I told Lily about my retirement today.”
“Ah. I guess she didn’t take it well.”
“No.”
“She relies on you. She probably feels you’re abandoning her.”
“I thought she’d throw things at me.”
“And she cried instead?”
He angled his head. How did other women know this kind of stuff about each other? Teresa and Lily had never met; they were as unalike as two women could be. Were there Cliff Notes somewhere? Maybe a course? “She was upset.”
“Give her some time. She’ll accept it and move on—without missing a beat, I’ll bet.”
Well, he wouldn’t mind if she missed him a little. Even if he had begun his career with reluctance, he’d gotten pretty damn good at it.
But not for much longer. Soon he’d only have himself to worry about. Himself and maybe a family of his own.
He could envision Teresa embracing retirement with him. His culinary classes. His marketing studies on the latte business. She’d also fit in well with his horses, or maybe dog breeding. She’d enjoy helping him run a café. And his life would finally be regular like everybody else’s.
“You’re right. She’ll be fine without me.”
“People like Lily always come out on top.”
She made the comment without any jealousy or anger. Graciousness. Wasn’t that an ideal quality in a mate? “They do indeed. Mostly because she’s determined that’s where she belongs.” Considering, James sipped his wine. “It’s kind of an odd mix of willpower and ego.”
“From the descriptions you’ve given me, she seems really…flashy.”
“Oh, she is. She certainly fits in much better with my parents’ theater friends than I do.”
Smiling, Teresa nodded. “Your parents are very flamboyant, too.”
“Especially Mother.”
“But entertaining. The night I met them at that party, and your mother and her friend reenacted the entire final scene of a play they did ten years ago? Amazing. She was obviously born to her craft.”
He liked talking with Teresa. They were friends, and their relationship was comfortable. With his parents’ volatile marriage as his first impression of lifetime commitment, he’d figured out really early that was not what he wanted for himself. He didn’t need impulsiveness and all-consuming passion. Flames like that burned out—or burned each other up. He’d seen it happen over and over again among his parents’ friends.
Before he could respond to Teresa, someone called his name.
He turned to see his good friend and lawyer, Dalton Roberts, approaching their table with a slinky blonde clinging to his arm.
Dalton had moved to Manhattan from South Carolina several years ago after his law practice had fallen apart. His partner and his wife had had an affair that devastated him, so now he was a confirmed bachelor and play-the-field guy.
Actually, he and Lily were very alike. If James didn’t have a strict aversion to playing matchmaker with friends and business associates—between anybody, really—he’d encourage them to go out.
He rose and introduced his buddy to Teresa, then was introduced to Dalton’s date, Cindy. James appreciated Teresa’s ability to send the new woman a welcoming smile and stare into her eyes rather than at her chest. Dalton tended to go for flash over substance in choosing women, but Cindy and her well-endowed figure was a new, uh…high.
The waitress appeared to offer the new guests drinks, and James encouraged them to hang out until their own table was ready. With his longish blond hair and quick smile, Dalton was “dreamy” and easy to talk to, according to the female population. Teresa might as well meet his friends.
“So, how’s business?” Dalton asked James.
“Good. Spring is a big season for us.” Actually, he’d told Dalton he’d get him near-the-front seats for the Spectacular—he was sure his friend would enjoy checking out the models—but he didn’t want to say so in front of Cindy. He expected his buddy would want to come solo.
Dalton took a sip of the whiskey the waitress brought, then grinned. “Any woman who showed up at my door wearing those high-assed shoes I saw in that ad on Fifth…Whoa, baby.”
The ad was provocative—showing a woman from behind, wearing no top as she smiled teasingly over her shoulder and dressed in a short, black skirt, fish-nets and a pair of Lily’s red stilettos.
Cindy leaned forward, and James feared they all might get to know her a little too familiarly if she made that motion then drew a deep breath. “You’re the one who works for Lily Reaves?”
She said Lily’s name with the same breathy quality he’d witnessed in countless women the last several months. Women apparently worshiped shoes with the same fervor as men worshiped sports. Or women.
“She makes the most amazing shoes,” Cindy continued. “I’ve got on a pair now, in fact.” She lifted her leg above the table, obviously intending to show everyone, but Dalton tamped her down.
James exchanged a look with Teresa, who grinned at him and shrugged. Their quiet dinner was turning into a sideshow, with Lily being the topic of conversation. Gracious didn’t even begin to cover the woman’s positive qualities.
Yep, she’d fit into his plans perfectly.
3
BACK IN HER APARTMENT, but still dressed in her Brian-the-disastrous-date pantsuit, Lily punched in Gwen’s cell-phone number. “I need you,” she said without ceremony.
“Now? We’re at the Tiger, Lil.”
“I know.”
“I just saw some big-time rapper.”
“Who?”
“Don’t know his name, but he ordered champagne for the entire bar, so that qualifies as cool in my book.” She paused, slurping. “What’s up?”
“James is retiring. Brian proposed.”
Silence. Then, “That doesn’t sound good.”
“Duh! I’m officially having a pity party. Where are you?”
“I’m having a free freakin’ glass of champagne.”
“I’m drinking alone.”
“I’m now draining said glass and signaling Kristin. We’re on our way.” Her voice became muffled, then she came back clearer. “Any particular reason for retirement or proposal?”
“James wants to open a café in Connecticut. Brian thinks I’m a vulnerable woman who needs his protection.”
“I won’t even touch the vulnerable-woman thing, ’cause that’s just stupid, but what the hell is so interesting about Connecticut?”
“Exactly my reaction.”
“Okay, hang on. We’re on our way.”
By the time they arrived, Lily had pulled cold pizza from the fridge again and was drinking chardonnay straight out of the bottle. She leaned against the door and let her friends in the apartment.
“Give