If The Shoe Fits (21 page)

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Authors: Laurie Leclair

Tags: #Romantic Comedy, #Contemporary Romance, #romantic comedy series, #once upon a romance series, #romantic comedy trilogy

BOOK: If The Shoe Fits
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“Put like that, I shouldn’t have any
problems, right?”

She winked at him. “None at all.”

Grinning, he noted that Peg would be a
welcome respite to the buttoned up businessmen he’d dealt with on a
daily basis.

When they entered his new office with the
black furniture and glass top desk, he stilled just inside the
doorway. The enormity of what he was doing hit him then. He, Marcus
Goode, would run King’s Department Store for the next twelve weeks
to honor the late, great Charles King, the man who took him under
his wing when he was just a boy and his mother worked as a
saleswoman. He would repay the King family for all they had done
for his family.

“Marcus,” Charlie cried out.

He turned just in time to see her rush to him
and throw her arms around him. Hugging her back, he said, “It’s
been too long, my friend.”

Pulling away, she said, “I’ve missed you,
too. It’s no fun getting into trouble here without you beside
me.”

Chuckling, he nodded. “Ah, the good old
days.”

“The dirt some people still have on us.”

He recalled how years ago as kids they would
poke their noses into every department, every little cubbyhole, and
every nook and cranny. The things they used to see and hear
astounded him to this day. “And we have on them,” he said quietly,
maybe too quietly.

Her smile faded. She remembered.

He could never forget that day.

All of a sudden his father had taken to
picking up his mother from work. Only this day, he’d arrived early
and hadn’t told anyone. Marcus and Charlie were playing in the
corner of the storage room, killing time when a noise yanked them
from their game of hide and seek. He looked up and discovered his
father kissing another woman. Shock rooted his feet to the spot.
But the loving words the woman and the man he’d respected all his
life exchanged crashed over him as if he’d been struck by a bolt of
lightning.

Love? Forever? But he was supposed to love
Marcus’ mom for the rest of his life.

In the back of his mind, Marcus recalled the
woman worked in the same department as his mother did. That’s when
he felt his friend grab his arm and squeeze tight. He looked at
Charlie’s little face and saw the tear fall from the corner of her
eye. He turned away from her hurt because he couldn’t even face his
own at the time.

They sat huddled there long after the
grownups had left.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Not as much as I am.” His heart was
breaking.

She swallowed hard. “I’ll never tell.”

He nodded, knowing she wouldn’t either.
“Thanks.”

He came back to the moment with a crash. She
never did tell. And for that he was eternally grateful. It was part
of the reason he agreed to temporarily take over King’s for her
until she could find a permanent replacement. Lifelong friends who
had each other’s back did things like that for each other.

“I’ll never be able to thank you enough for
stepping in like this. You were the only one I trusted.”

“I’m glad I could help.” He’d rearranged a
great deal, essentially handing over his business to his capable
team, to be with his mom during her convalescence. He’d have had
nothing to do for all these weeks if Charlie hadn’t called. “It’s
not like I could just sit and twiddle my thumbs while mom’s going
through rehabilitation.”

“How’s your mom? I spoke to her a few days
ago, but I don’t think she understood everything I said.”

“She has her good moments. She’s getting
better.” Deep inside, he knew she struggled, not because of her
hip, but because another man had broken her heart. Her boyfriend
had dumped her just a day before she fell. Somehow she’d been so
distracted over losing him that she hadn’t paid attention to the
step down and she’d landed heavily on her right hip.

But the physical pain was less taxing to her
than her heartache. The depression was far worse. His mother was in
love with love.

He’d tried for years to cure her of it;
however he’d failed miserably.

But he’d held fast in his own life. He’d have
nothing to do with love. It was a curse.

“Look, Marcus, it’s great to see you and I
wanted to fill you in before the manager’s meeting tomorrow
morning. But I’m expecting an important phone call and can’t miss
it. So why don’t you explore the store and see all the changes.
I’ll catch up with you after my call and we can go over some
things. How’s that sound?”

“Great,” he said with as much enthusiasm as
he could muster. Maybe being here and reliving the past wasn’t such
a good idea after all. He’d made it a point to never look back and
now he was being forced to face the demons of his past.

Raking up the ashes would only get him burnt
again. He was already feeling the heat. How much more could he
take?

Chapter 2

 

 

Francie stuck her head out of the wedding
department. The dim lights in the store didn’t reveal anyone.

“Coast is clear,” she whispered. Carefully,
she made her way through each department. “Rico, where are you?”
she asked in a low voice. No response.

Her heart sank at the thought of having to go
downstairs to the jewelry department. Someone was sure to see her
in the big, white wedding dress. It wasn’t something she could
easily explain away. Not this time.

Her body ached from carrying the heavy,
crystal embossed one-of-a-kind designer gown. “It weighs a ton,”
she muttered, now realizing why brides often selected another dress
to dance in at the reception.

“Note to self, when selecting your wedding
dress consider the weight of it when trying to dance at your
reception.” Under her breath, she muttered, “At least I didn’t try
on the shoes yet.” The three inch sparkly ones were still nestled
in their box in the dressing room. “With my clothes. Ugh!”

Growing weary, Francie turned a corner and
found herself in the linen department. The demo bed, piled with an
assortment of pillows and the matching plush lilac duvet, looked
enticing.

“I’ll just sit for a minute. Get my breath
back. Find my bearings. Make a plan.” As she sank down, a sigh
escaped her lips.

She hadn’t realized how tired she was. She’d
been up since six in the morning and it was after nine at night.
Her long double shifts were getting the best of her. If only
Priscilla would come to work instead of go out and play, she
thought, then she could cut back on some hours. But someone needed
to pay the bills.

Another sigh escaped. Her feet throbbed.
Gingerly, she shifted her position and swung her feet up to rest on
the bed. “Think,” she begged her foggy brain. “How can I get out of
this dress and stay out of hot water?”

The pillows were right there. She eased her
head onto one. “Ah, nice, soft,” she murmured. The knotted stays
stuck into her spine. She turned on her left side, slipping her
clasped hands under her cheek.

In the back of her mind, Francie knew Rico
wasn’t coming back for her. Had she even told him to? She didn’t
remember now. Her concern focused on getting the earrings back in
the vault without anyone discovering they’d been missing in the
first place.

As her mind continued to whirl with thoughts,
her tired body relaxed into the lush softness surrounding her.
“Just another minute and I’ll get up,” she promised herself.

How would she get out of the expensive dress
without damaging it or letting anyone else know? Maybe she could
sleep there all night long and wait for Charlie. Her stepsister
came in before seven. After all, the bed was much more comfortable
then the couch she’d been sleeping on the last few weeks.

Then a disturbing thought rushed through her
busy mind. There’s a new temporary man taking over tomorrow. Would
her stepsister be so involved with meetings with him that she
wouldn’t walk the floor before the store opened as she usually
did?

Francie could go to the guard station and get
help. But they would tell.

Her cheeks grew warm. The things they’d say
about her then. Everyone would know her secret. She’d never be able
to sneak into the wedding dress department and try on the new
arrivals again.

How could she ever find the perfect wedding
dress then?

 

***

 

Marcus quietly walked through each
department, noting the dramatic changes on the first floor and
seeing the much needed updates on the second. He lingered in the
housewares department. The shiny, copper-bottomed pots and pans
caused him to smile as he recalled his early restaurant days,
loving how he could create something out of a few ingredients.

One thing he’d gotten from his mother was her
love of cooking. He picked up fast at her elbow and cooked her full
meals by the age of seven. His father, a traveling salesman, was on
the road so often it seemed like it was always Marcus and his
mother while he grew up.

At the thought of his now deceased father and
his betrayal, Marcus frowned and turned away from the
housewares.

But it nagged at him, how his father scoffed
at his interest in cooking. Marcus played in every sport imaginable
and loved the competition. He loved football the most. But, after
blowing out his knee in college, Marcus had to find a career he was
just as passionate about. The restaurant business was the perfect
fit for him. He could cook, use his people and business skills, and
make money at the same time.

And he did. The long hours he dedicated to
his business brought him more recognition than he’d ever
considered. He branched out to being a guest chef, with no formal
training, to hotels, then resorts. He’d find little gems, risk
buying them, redo each one from top to bottom, and make them
sparkle even more. It worked.

He smiled. Pride surged through him. He loved
the process of taking something and building it up to its
potential. Most times, even going beyond its potential.

Now he focused on the store. He’d done it
before. He could do it here.

With more confidence then he’d felt since
agreeing to the temporary position, Marcus strode down the wide
store aisles. In his mind, he made mental notes on the changes he
thought would bring King’s back into the limelight.

Going by the linens, he glanced at the
displays. His eyes caught something odd. Turning back sharply, he
stopped at the bed. “I’m seeing things,” he murmured. Blinking a
few times, he realized the image stayed the same.

The woman slept soundly. He took in every
detail of her from her honey blonde hair to her bare shoulders onto
the swell of her cleavage. The expensive wedding dress clung to her
small waist and the slight curve of her hip. Her bare toes, the
nails painted a delicate pink, peeked out from the bottom folds of
fluffy fabric at the hem.

Marcus drew nearer. She was even more
beautiful up close. The pale pink flush sweeping cheeks and her
perfect bow lips caused his heart to beat a little quicker. He
swallowed hard.

She was saying something in her sleep. He
couldn’t hear. Bending down on one knee beside her, he couldn’t
stop himself from reaching out and brushing the soft blonde
tendrils off of her cheek.

“Tickles.” She giggled.

He chuckled, fascinated by this lovely
creature.

Her perfume rose to him, subtle, yet
alluring. He breathed in deeply. Heat rushed through his body.

Her rose colored lips curved into a gentle
smile. He focused on them, the full bottom one and the perfectly
shaped bow of the top one. “What would it feel like to kiss you?”
he whispered.

She mumbled something. He dipped his head
closer to understand. “How do I get out of this dress?”

Marcus laughed. “I’ll help,” he offered as he
leaned in to touch his lips against hers…

 

 

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