If the Stiletto Fits.... Wendy Etherington

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      “Thanks for the shoes, by the way. Though I pretended I didn’t know when Mom asked how much you charge customers for the ones you sent her.”

      “Wise move.”

      “And what was with that extra pair you sent me? The shiny black ones? The heels are way too high. Where in the world would I wear something like that?”

      Her sister had great legs, but Lily wasn’t sure anyone but Karen had seen them in the last ten years. And Lily couldn’t think of anything more depressing than to not have anyplace to wear a great pair of new shoes. “To dinner with your husband.”

      “In Redwood? Get real.”

      “Then wear them for Jack around the house.”

      “With what? Jeans and a sweatshirt?”

      “Nothing.” She giggled. “I bet I get a thank-you card from Jack.”

      She spoke with her nieces and nephews—two of each—and promised to plan a trip to Iowa to see them as soon as the Spectacular was over. Even though she wouldn’t have her sister’s life, she did enjoy visiting her nieces and nephews. Even when she didn’t fix her hair, makeup or wear designer clothes and shoes, they just adored her because she’d play Chutes and Ladders for hours on end.

      As she hung up the phone, Lily said to Garnet, “I’m gone for the day if anybody asks.”

      Garnet smacked her gum as she played solitaire on the computer. “Okay. Have fun.”

      She walked down the hall, then through the door into her private apartment. She had a beautiful space on the twentieth floor that she’d separated into two areas for her offices and apartment. The building had a great uptown address, plus amenities like a small gym, concierge desk and uniformed doorman. Even James had been impressed with the space and had rented an apartment in the same building on the sixteenth floor.

      As Lily walked into the den, she passed by the plush seating group covered in plum-and-gold fabric and headed toward the floor-to-ceiling windows that dominated one wall. The sun was just setting, and Manhattan lights were flicking on like fireflies. Soon the suits and briefcases would be replaced by glamorous gowns and bags. The shoppers would become diners. The nightclubs and bars would spring to life, keeping time with the endless pulse of the city.

      Just as it had earlier, happiness moved through her. She really had a remarkable life. She didn’t have a two-hour commute from the outskirts of the city anymore. She didn’t even have to get dressed if she found inspiration in the middle of the night. She had great friends, a challenging career and she’d achieved a level of both creative and financial success that most people would envy.

      So, if—every once in a while—she felt as if her life was missing something, she managed to find a project, a new friend, a shopping trip or a party to fill it.

      She’d dreamed of this life ever since she was five, and her grandmother had taken them all on a trip to the city. They’d seen a Broadway play, done the tours of the Statue of Liberty, the Empire State Building and all the rest. It had been the most magical five days of Lily’s life. She’d come home with a snow globe and the statue inside. She’d gone to bed every night staring at it and wishing for the day she’d finally become a New Yorker.

      Waving off the small, lingering slice of emptiness, Lily strode into her bedroom, which she’d decorated in calming creams and golds. Her favorite piece in the apartment was her cherry, four-poster bed. A decorator had helped her pick out a plush duvet and lots of pillows in various sizes and shapes, then hung white fabric along the railings between posts, so she could literally close out the world if she wanted.

      For the next hour, she primped—one of her favorite things when she had the time. She was such a makeup junkie, she usually tried out several different looks before settling on one. Then she perused her giant, walk-in closet—complete with custom-made, revolving shoe rack. She needed something semi-sexy but not too obvious.

      Since Brian was probably more interested in her industry connections than her legs, she ought to dress accordingly.

      She finally decided on a trim black pantsuit with a silver satin camisole peeking between the folds of the jacket. She picked out silver, ankle-wrap, heeled sandals that might hurt like hell if they went dancing later, but they’d look festive.

      After she piled her shoulder-length dark hair on top of her head in a loose twist, she strolled back through the den and into the kitchen. She had to eat something so she wouldn’t pig out during dinner.

      Knock, knock.

      Lily paused with her hand on the Parmesan cheese, which she was currently shaking over her slices of reheated pizza. “Yes?”

      “It’s James.”

      Well, damn. She’d forgotten all about him. He’d wanted to talk to her before she left.

      She shoved a bite of pizza in her mouth, then muttered around it, “Be right there.” Opening the door, she found him with his suit jacket now on and buttoned, and a serious expression planted on his face. Well, James was serious most of the time, but this was a new level—even for him. “Come on in.”

      Hesitating, he glanced past her. “You’re alone?”

      “Yeah. I’m just getting ready to go out. Sorry I forgot to come by your office.”

      He still hesitated. He’d been in her apartment many times, of course, but he always seemed slightly out of place. The intimacy probably offended his professional sensibilities.

      Lily grabbed his hand and tugged him inside. “Oh, come on. I was just about to pour some wine.” She headed to the kitchen, leaving him to trail behind. “Did you ever find out what was wrong with Garnet’s computer?”

      “The CAT5 cable connection was loose between the router and the modem. I fixed it.”

      She blinked. She understood about three words in that sentence—and they were and, the and it. “O-kay.” As she poured chardonnay into a glass, she asked, “You want some?”

      James pulled one of the iron bar stools away from the black-tiled counter and slid onto it. “Sure.”

      Mildly surprised—he no doubt considered this a business conversation, not a social occasion—she handed him the glass, then selected another one for herself.

      “What’s up?” she asked after her first sip. “There’s not a problem with the Spectacular, is there?”

      He took a healthy sip of wine. “No.”

      Again, with the serious tone. Curious, but not alarmed—James could get uptight on occasion—Lily snacked on her pizza. “Hungry?”

      He leaned forward, peering at the slices. “Pizza?”

      She grinned. “It pairs well with the chardonnay.”

      After another sip of wine, he folded his hands on the counter. “I’m not really sure how to say this, so I guess I’ll just blurt it out.”

      Her stomach tightened. Something was wrong. Had orders drastically fallen off? Maybe Bloomingdale’s and Neiman Marcus had both pulled СКАЧАТЬ