If the Shoe Fits (3 page)

“Jake, help me up, would you? I don't believe my luck! Running around like an idiot all morning because of Max Bloody Charming. I put my best trousers on and did my hair just so that I could impress the bloke, and now look at me! I bet he's a bastard too, just like Derek said he would be.”

“I believe my parents were married when I was born, actually,” stated an amused voice somewhere in the region above Eleanor's sugar-covered head.

Crap.

Eleanor parted her hair and peered up at the man staring at her, wincing as the piece of china dug into her bottom.

“Um, Mr. Charming?”

“That would be me, yes. And you are?”

“Eleanor. Eleanor Gibson,” she said brightly, offering her hand.

Charming wrinkled his nose, and Eleanor blushed as she awkwardly got to her feet. She wiped her hand on her already ruined trousers and offered it again. Charming shook it briefly and eyed the coffee tray's debris pointedly.

“That's an accident waiting to happen. I suggest you go and get something to clear up this mess. I'll wait here to make sure nobody slips.”

“Yes, Mr. Charming, right away.”

“Oh, and Miss Gibson?”

Eleanor turned around, schooled her features into a helpful expression, and promptly jumped out of her skin as she felt a fleeting brush against her bottom. Charming's lips twitched as he held out the chunk of broken mug in front of her.

“You might need to visit the local A&E when you're done. Unless you would like me to check your injury?”

“No! Er, I'll pop to the hospital as soon as I'm done here.”

• • •

Two hours later Eleanor was enduring the ham-fisted stitching techniques of an over-enthusiastic doctor at the Royal Infirmary. She was still burning with humiliation from her interlude with Charming, and the doctor's blatant amusement over her injury was adding fuel to the fire.

“There shouldn't be any scarring,” said the doctor, who was visibly holding back a chuckle. “You'll be sore for a few days though, so try not to do anything that will aggravate it.”

“Oh sure, I'll just hold off on the spanking for a week or so,” said Eleanor, rolling her eyes.

At her side, Jake, who had kindly agreed to escort her to the hospital, choked back a laugh.

“Sweetie, and I was so looking forward to our weekly session,” he quipped, earning a glare from Eleanor for his trouble.

“Right, I'm done,” said the doctor, putting the last strip of sterile tape over the dressing. “Come back in a week for the stitches to come out, and in the meantime, no baths or showers, okay?”

Eleanor pouted. Great, not only did she have a sore bottom to put up with for the next week, it now looked like she was going to be dirty, too.

“Don't worry, darling, I'll give you a bed bath,” said Jake, winking cheekily at the doctor.

The doctor openly laughed, waving cheerily over his shoulder as he made his way to the next patient on his list.

“I can't believe you're laughing at me,” said Eleanor grumpily.

“Oh, come on, Ella. It's funny, you have to admit it.”

“I don't see how embarrassing yourself in front of the new boss is the least bit amusing. He pulled a piece of china out of my butt, for Christ's sake!”

“Did he cop a free feel while he was there?”

“No!”

“Shame. Still, maybe he doesn't like women.”

“You're seeing someone, Jake, remember?”

“Of course I am, sweetie, but Danny would never begrudge me a little fantasy here and there.”

Eleanor rolled her eyes.

“I don't think he's gay anyway, so there's no point arguing over it.”

“Not even a little twitch on your gaydar?” he asked hopefully.

“Nary a quiver.”

“Any quivering anywhere else?”

“No!”

“He's a handsome guy. Single, too … ”

“Jake, don't even think about it. And how do you know he's single, anyway?”

“Honey, half the staff knows his vital statistics, and probably what he had for breakfast, too. His relationship status was one of the first things to circulate.”

“Susie,” she said dryly.

“Who else? That woman's worth her weight in gold.”

They continued to chatter all the way back to Eleanor's house. Eleanor lived on the outskirts of the city center, in Splott. Her grandmother had left her the little house on Jewel Street several years ago, and Eleanor loved it there. It was a two up, two down terraced house, and both of her neighbors had been good friends with her grandmother. The area was quiet to the point of silent, and there was a handy row of various shops just around the corner. Jake and Danny were always trying to get her to move to a flat in the city center, but although it would be far more convenient, Eleanor refused to budge.

“I suppose you'll be visited by the Granny Patrol as soon as they realize that you're home early,” said Jake, smirking slightly as he helped Eleanor through her front door.

“Don't be a bitch, Jake,” she chided, swatting his hands away. “And you don't have to hold on to me, you know. It's my butt that's injured, not my legs.”

Jake pinched her uninjured bottom cheek and pushed her into the living room.

“Quit moaning and have a seat,” he said, throwing a pile of cushions onto her sofa. “There, that should do you.”

Eleanor winced as she gingerly sat down. Muse tiptoed around her feet, sniffing around suspiciously before jumping onto her lap.

“Meow.”

“Hello to you, too,” murmured Eleanor, rubbing the cat affectionately.

“Tea or coffee?” called Jake from the kitchen.

“Vodka,” replied Eleanor. “And plenty of it.”

Jake reappeared with a grin, holding a bottle of vodka and two glasses.

“You know me so well,” said Eleanor with a smile.

“Straight?”

“There's some lemonade in the fridge, I think. It's a bit early to indulge it straight up.”

“Right.”

Several glasses of vodka later, Eleanor was feeling a lot better, and was even beginning to see the funny side of things.

“Of course, it's all your fault,” she said, pointing a finger at Jake's somewhat blurry-looking chest. “I thought it was you, not Charming.”

“What made you think it was me?”

“I was facing a dreamy pair of thighs … ”

“You think I have dreamy thighs?” snorted Jake.

“Well, of course you do! Not to mention a cute butt.”

“The cuteness of my butt has never been in question, but my thighs are a different matter altogether, sweetie. You girls aren't the only ones with cellulite.”

“Pish-posh,” said Eleanor, waving her hands around. “Your thighs are to die for. All muscled and firm.”

“Why, thank you. And while we are on the subject of complimenting body parts, may I say that your breasts looked deliciously perky when they were peeking through your blouse today.”

“They weren't peeking through my blouse!”

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, honey, but when you landed on your butt, you lost a button.”

Eleanor looked down at her chest and screeched.

“Why didn't you tell me?”

“I didn't want to spoil the fun. I might be gay, but I still appreciate a nice pair as much as the next man.”

“Oh my God, why does this happen to me? Not only did Charming grope my butt, he got an eyeful of my boobs as well! And he also thinks I'm the clumsiest thing on two legs!”

“There, there,” said Jake consolingly. “Not to worry. They're nice legs, and lovely boobs. Charming probably had an extra spring in his step after he saw you.”

“Not after what I said to him,” said Eleanor darkly.

“Yes, well. Perhaps the sight of your voluptuous charms made him forget your disaster of a conversation.”

It was a mark of how humiliated she felt that she agreed with him.

“I hope so.”

• • •

Eleanor was able to avoid the new boss until Friday. Having a sore bottom was enough excuse for two days of sick leave, but no more. Consequently, Friday morning saw Eleanor creeping around the Cardiff Mode building doing her best to steer clear of Charming.

She had heard through the grapevine that all of the staff was greatly impressed with Charming, with one exception. Jake had been right when he had suggested to all that Derek was more than a little jealous of the new guy. Cardiff Mode's former Romeo (as nobody except Derek thought of himself) was well and truly “out,” and Max Charming was most definitely “in.”

Most of the female staff members were arriving at work dressed to the nines in an effort to grab his attention. Of course, this was fairly difficult to accomplish with the likes of Jenni and Heather, who always looked so effortlessly gorgeous, floating around.

Having heard this from Jake, Eleanor decided that she wasn't going to join the ‘Impress Max Charming Gang', and stuck to her usual uniform of jeans and a T-shirt. She had tried glamour, and look where that had gotten her. Oh no, she wouldn't be making
that
mistake again.

Eleanor managed to get to the afternoon tea break without bumping into her newfound nemesis. She ducked into Jake's office to consume her coffee and breathed a sigh of relief. Jake gave her a quick “thumbs up” and she grinned back happily.

Five minutes before the working day finished, Eleanor was congratulating herself on a very successful day. She had delivered countless cups of coffee, photocopied hundreds of memos and distributed them — the computers having apparently died and gone to electrical heaven — and had avoided Max Charming into the bargain.

Of course, she should have known her luck would run out. Just as she pressed the button for the elevator, she heard the unwelcome voice of the very man she was trying to avoid. She looked over her shoulder and spotted him walking towards the elevator with Gerry. They were deep in conversation and hadn't spotted her yet. Willing the elevator doors to open, Eleanor closed her eyes and took a deep breath,

“Eleanor! Where have you been? I haven't seen you all day!” said Gerry in his usual cheery manner.

The elevator “dinged” and the doors opened.

“Sorry, Mr. Lomax, have to run! Bus to catch!”

Eleanor rushed into the elevator and pressed the first button she saw. The doors swiftly closed, and Eleanor slumped against the walls gratefully.

Then she felt a tugging sensation at her arm. Before she knew it, her jacket was whipped from her fingers and became jammed in the elevator doors. Then the alarms sounded.

Eleanor groaned. She was stuck.

• • •

It was an hour before Eleanor was rescued. An hour in which she paced the confined area of the elevator floor continually. An hour in which she alternated between banging her head against her fist, and calling herself all kinds of fools. By the time the doors opened, Eleanor's already frizzy hair had turned into an Afro, and her cheeks were as red as her T-shirt.

“Yours, I believe,” said the voice that Eleanor was coming to detest. She snatched her jacket from Charming's hand and glared at him.

“What are
you
still doing here?” she growled, forgetting for a moment that she was speaking to her boss.

“I was waiting for the elevator to be fixed. As the boss, I have to take these kinds of things very seriously. I couldn't leave without making sure a member of my staff was uninjured.”

Eleanor checked for signs of sarcasm, but Charming's face was a picture of sincerity. Although she thought she saw an inkling of amusement lurking in the depths of his blue eyes. Maybe she was mistaken.

“Well, I'm fine, as you can see. Can't say the same for my jacket, though.”

“Maybe you'll think twice before rushing into an elevator next time, hmm?”

“Er, yes. Um, night then.”

Charming nodded at her and walked away, leaving Eleanor free to poke out her tongue at his back.

By the time Eleanor reached her cozy little home, she was seeing the funny side of things. Usually she was the least clumsy person around, yet on the two occasions when she had been in the vicinity of Charming, she had turned into a complete klutz.

Bloody typical,
she thought with a frown.
If things keep going the way they're going, I'll be fired by the end of next week.

Thankfully, Eleanor had the weekend to recover from her latest catastrophe, and she used it wisely. Well, as wisely as most other people in her position would use it. She rented half a dozen classic movies, stocked up on wine and chocolates, and ordered a pizza three nights in a row. She also took the precaution of ignoring the phone and letting the answering machine do its job for once.

She didn't know whether to be pleased or disappointed when the red light refused to illuminate throughout the whole weekend.

Monday morning arrived, and brought with it a renewed determination to prove her worth to the troublesome Max Charming. Unfortunately, it also brought a fresh breakout of pimples across her chin, courtesy of the recent pizza and chocolate overdose.

“I could play dot-to-dot on these,” she sighed, as she was contemplating whether to use foundation or not. This was always a tricky decision; on the one hand, foundation would cover the worst of the pimply mess that currently covered half of her chin, but on the other hand, if she used foundation, said pimply mess would take longer to clear up.

“Maybe I'll just wear a polo-neck today. If I huddle into the collar, do you think anyone would notice?” she asked Muse, who was playing with one of Eleanor's lipsticks on the vanity table. Muse paused in her kitty antics and pricked her ears.

“Meow.”

“Yeah, you're probably right. I'll compromise and stick a bit of concealer on instead.”

Eleanor quickly dove to rescue the lipstick that Muse had lazily flicked off the table, and threw it into her handbag.