If the Red Slipper Fits...

by Shirley Jump

  Sarah squared her shoulders, then strode into Caleb’s office. Regardless of yesterday, and that moment of weakness in her kitchen, she refused to let him affect her today. She was here for business reasons. Nothing else.

  He stood by the window, his tall, lean frame silhouetted by the bright sun. A stunning view of the city painted in the spaces around Caleb, but Sarah’s gaze remained on the man. He had a tension to his stance. A set to his jaw. And when he turned to face her, she saw a flicker of melancholy in his blue gaze.

  She opened her mouth, about to ask what was wrong, then shut it again.

  How did she know for sure he wasn’t just using her, like so many others she had met, to drum up publicity? What if his interest was merely a guise? How many heartbreaks had she witnessed, just by covering the incestuous revolving world of fashion? Models dumped for aspiring actresses, aging CEOs trading in wives for girls barely out of college.

  Starry-eyed reporters left in the dust by narcissistic designers who used the people around them for PR. She had to be honest with herself. She wasn’t a model. She wasn’t devastatingly beautiful. She was just Sarah. An ordinary girl with ordinary looks and an ordinary job. Nothing glamorous in this package, nothing like the kind of woman she normally saw on Caleb’s arm. And that meant there was a distinct possibility that was all Caleb wanted, even though a part of her wanted to believe otherwise. Wanted to read more into that moment by a sudsy sink.

  “Sarah.” A smile curved across Caleb’s face, and every protest in Sarah’s mind flitted away.

  His smile was intoxicating.

  “I realize you probably have a busy day ahead of you,” Sarah said, reminding herself to focus, “so I won’t take up too much of your time. In fact, I think I have about everything I need for my article, so if you have—”

  “It’s fine. I was looking forward to your visit today.” He gestured toward the visitor chair across from his desk. He slipped in behind the massive cherry piece, then pulled open a drawer. “I believe this is yours.” He set the Frederick K stiletto before her.

  She’d brought the mate from home, intending to go to the office as soon as she left LL Designs. Sarah wrangled the left one from her purse, then sat it beside the right. It seemed as if both shoes brightened once they were paired again. Alone, one shoe had been pretty. Interesting. But together, the two together screamed sexiness, allure. Sarah reached out and ran a finger down the slim T-strap, her fingers skipping over the delicate stitching, the gold buckle ornamentation at the crux of the T. She skimmed over the arch, then down the heel. She’d seen hundreds of pairs of shoes in her years at the fashion magazine, but these ones seemed to embody the woman she wished she’d had a chance to be.

  “They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” she said.

  “They are. Frederick K might not be the kind of guy I’d want to share a beer with, but I have to admit he is brilliant at his job.”

  “It’s like he read my mind and produced the perfect shoe. Exactly what I was dreaming of buying.” She’d spent her life being practical, being the responsible one. She worked, she took care of her family and she worried. Stilettos didn’t fit in that equation.

  “Then why aren’t you wearing yours?”

  “What are you talking about? These ones aren’t even for sale.”

  “I saw the shoes at your apartment yesterday.”

  The closet door, the one in the hall by the cabinet where Caleb had put away the serving dish. She’d forgotten that it had been ajar. She rarely closed it, because she rarely had company. “You saw my collection.”

  “Gathering dust, I assume.”

  “I just don’t get occasions to wear them.”

  “Why not?” Caleb leaned over his desk, and with the movement, she caught the notes of his cologne. The subtle woodsy scent, chased by spice.

  “It’s complicated.” She sighed. “I’m…practical. I buy those shoes on impulse, but I never wear them. They don’t fit into my world.”

  “You work in the fashion industry—doesn’t wearing high heels go along with the job description?”

  “Aren’t you quite the question man today? Why are you suddenly so interested in my footwear selection?”

  Caleb wove his hands together and put them on the desk. “Let’s call it research.”

  She wasn’t sure she believed him a hundred percent, but decided to play along anyway. After all, he’d been answering her questions all week. The least she could do is answer a few of his. “All my life, I’ve done the responsible thing. Paid my bills on time, balanced my checkbook, put in the hours at work. And yes, every once in a while, I go a little crazy and buy a pair of shoes like this, but Lord only knows why, because…” She hesitated, then finished the sentence. “…I don’t have any place to wear them.”

  There. The truth was out. Sarah Griffin had the social life of a turtle. The only time she went to a hot, hip spot, it was to work. Not on a date, not out with friends.

  “Well then, we’ll just have to do something about that, won’t we?” Caleb said.

  Sarah couldn’t read the look on his face. Was he asking her out? Or merely making a comment? “I’m not so sure it would be a good idea for the gossip reporter to be seen out on the town with the subject of her gossip column.”

  “Except you aren’t writing that column right this second, since you’re doing the articles instead. So it’s not really a conflict of interest, is it?”

  He had a point. Still…going out with Caleb Lewis would only bring them closer together, and given the way her thoughts refused to leave the kiss-me-now path, that probably wouldn’t be a good idea. She glanced again at the Frederick Ks. “These shoes are the epitome of impractical. They’re like the poster shoes for reckless living.”

  “True,” Caleb said. “Either way, they’d look amazing on you.”

  Sarah jerked her hand away from the stilettos. “Oh, I can’t wear these. I’m supposed to be writing about them, not putting them on.”

  “What size are you?”

  “Seven, but—”

  “That’s what these are.” Caleb nudged the shoes closer to her. “Try them on.”

  “Oh, no, I shouldn’t—”

  “You should.” He grinned, and in that moment, she couldn’t tell which was more tempting—the forbidden shoes or the forbidden man. “Indulge, Sarah.”

  For a second, she wondered about indulging in Caleb Lewis. In his lips, his touch, letting herself fall into the deep tones of his voice. Finish what they had started in her kitchen last night, fulfill the fantasies that had filled her dreams after she’d gone to bed. Because something had definitely started by her sink yesterday—and ended much too quickly. “In-indulge?”

  He rose, and came around his desk, then picked up one of the shoes and dropped to the space beside her chair. “Shall I?”

  With him right there, his smile cemented on his face, and his blue gaze locked on hers, anything other than assent seemed impossible. She put out her foot, and nodded. “Please do.”

  Who was this woman? Sarah Griffin didn’t get swept up by charming men. Sarah Griffin didn’t live life as Cinderella. Sarah Griffin was practical, resolved and focused.

  But that Sarah Griffin seemed a hundred miles away as Caleb reached over, slid off the sensible black boots that were her everyday shoes, and replaced them with the Frederick K stilettos. His hand brushed against her instep, and a shiver chased through her.

  Oh, this was bad. So bad. Not just wearing the shoes but the way she reacted to him, her hormones clamoring for more. More touches, more smiles and just…more in general.

  “Beautiful, like I said.” Caleb rocked back on his heels and gestured at her feet.

  Sarah glanced down and saw the same feet she’d had her entire life, but transformed somehow into sleek, elegant, sexy appendages. The shoes’ soft leather caressed her skin, begged to be worn, walked in. Suddenly everything about her that had felt dowdy this morning—the jeans, the sweater, her hair down and unadorned—se
emed to disappear, as if she hadn’t just changed her shoes, but had also changed every ounce of her appearance. She felt beautiful. Desirable. Confident. Sarah rose and before she could think about the wisdom of what she was about to do—

  She walked across the room. Goodness, she even carried herself differently. Her hips held a sway they never had before and her chest seemed to thrust forward on its own. “It’s like walking on clouds. Really, really high clouds.”

  Caleb chuckled. Then he crossed to her. “That’s the look I want to see.”

  Her breath caught. “You do?”

  He nodded, and his smile seemed to hold her captive. “Perfect.”

  “Thank you.” The words escaped her on a breath. What were they talking about? And did she really care anyway?

  Caleb caught her jaw in his palm and cradled her gently. His thumb traced the corner of her smile. The added height of the shoes brought her gaze even with his blue one, and brought her mouth right to his. “Sarah…”

  Her name was a whisper between them, and for the first time in her life, Sarah realized the intoxicating power of having a man’s full attention on her. She’d dated, yes, but always in a sort of distracted way, with her mind back on the millions of things waiting for her at home. The people who counted on her, who needed her. Never had she had the freedom, the luxury, to just enjoy a man’s attention.

  Her body swayed, and the distance between them closed from inches to centimeters. Sarah’s gaze dropped to Caleb’s lips. Desire surged inside her.

  Kiss me.

  The need for his touch arced in her body. She was a hundred times more aware of him than she ever had been before. Aware of every beat of her heart, every breath that escaped her. Was it the shoes? Was it the way they had made her aware of herself as a woman?

  She didn’t care. She wanted him. Now.

  Instead of waiting for Caleb, this new Sarah, the one who had been emboldened by a pair of sexy shoes and simply couldn’t stay in the shadows anymore, leaned in toward him, and brushed her lips against his. His eyes widened in surprise, but then he cupped her head, and drew her in even more. His lips drifted over hers, but she didn’t want a simple, quiet kiss.

  She wanted more.

  She wanted it all.

  She grabbed his back and pressed him to her, then opened her mouth against his. Her tongue danced across his lips, and when he opened and yielded to the touch, she tasted him, teasing his tongue with hers.

  Caleb groaned, heat exploding between them as the kiss deepened. He didn’t just kiss her—he captured her mouth with a magic that set off fireworks inside her, that awakened parts of her body she hadn’t even been aware were slumbering. She moved closer to him, the hard solidness of his chest meeting her soft curves with a protective strength. Her hands roamed up and down his back, slipping over the muscles rippling beneath the cotton fabric of his shirt.

  He pulled back, but didn’t release her. Her heart kept on racing, as if it were an engine that refused to slow. “Well,” Caleb said, his grin extending to his eyes. “I didn’t expect that.”

  “Neither did I.”

  What had she been thinking?

  She hadn’t been, that was clear. But right now, she didn’t care. She moved closer again, hoping to pick up where they’d left off. Finish that kiss and begin another, for one.

  “I, uh, was going to say that your reaction to wearing those shoes was exactly the kind of reaction I want to see in the faces of the women who wear LL Designs.” Caleb’s words poured an ice bath on her senses. She stepped back, the desire that had been a fire in her earlier cooling. “But, ah, then you took it a step further than I was picturing.”

  Oh, damn. He’d been talking business, and she’d thought he was talking attraction. What a fool she had been. All along this had been about business, not a relationship.

  Sarah stumbled back, nearly toppling in the five-inch heels. What a fool she had been. What a colossal mistake she’d made. “I’m sorry. I should have…” She couldn’t find words to explain what had just happened. All she wanted to do was get out of there.

  She didn’t care about the article. Didn’t care about the deal she’d made with Caleb Lewis. She turned, grabbed her purse from the floor, and ran out of his office before she could be tempted any further.

  Caleb was halfway out of his office when he stopped himself. He should let her go. He had no business getting involved with Sarah Griffin. Or anyone, for that matter.

  But particularly not with a woman like Sarah. She wasn’t one of the flighty models who pursued him as though he was the lone chocolate bar at an all-vegetable buffet. She wasn’t one of the hundreds of women he’d met who were interested only in what he could do for their careers.

  No, Sarah Griffin was a strong, independent woman. One who offered the kind of challenge that intrigued Caleb, drew him in like a spider to a fly. Made him want to touch her, kiss her, talk to her.

  And she was also the woman who held the power in her hands to completely destroy his reputation and by extension, that of LL Designs. He needed to keep that in mind rather than allowing himself to get lost in those green eyes and that sassy mouth. A mouth that had tasted like honey. Felt like satin beneath his.

  Damn. Already he wanted her again. Wanted to see where that kiss would have led if he hadn’t tried to be a gentleman. Not that he’d been so smooth about that, what with his idiotic comment about how he wanted his customers to react to his shoe line.

  Moron.

  All he’d been thinking about was bringing the heat between them to a halt before things got out of hand.

  Out of hand—

  With Sarah Griffin, Caleb suspected that would be an adventure to remember.

  “What the hell just happened?” Martha waved toward the elevator doors. “I’ve never seen a woman leave your office that fast before.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “Sorry, boss.” Martha spun in her chair until she was facing him. Over the year that Caleb had been in charge of the company, his mother’s former assistant had gone from being a right-hand help to being a mentor of sorts. She bridged the old world and the new, and had no compunctions about telling him where he was going wrong. “So what was her problem with you anyway?”

  “I kissed her,” Caleb said.

  “You…you kissed Sarah Griffin?” Martha’s jaw dropped. “Why?”

  Caleb chuckled. “Well, I think the why is obvious. She’s an intriguing, beautiful woman. And technically…she kissed me first.”

  “She kissed you?” Disbelief tinted every word. “You?”

  “Am I that much of an ogre?”

  Martha laughed. “No, not at all. Just…I thought she hated you.”

  “I did, too.” But in the last couple of days that they had been together, Caleb had realized that the layers of his relationship with Sarah Griffin, if one could call their interactions a relationship, were complicated. She wasn’t the evil gossip writer he’d painted her to be. She wasn’t vindictive or cruel.

  She was honest.

  And if he sat back and looked at those articles, ignoring the exclamation points and the oversized headlines, he knew he’d get a story about his life. One he didn’t want to read.

  “I need to get back to work,” he said.

  Martha wagged a finger at him. “No. You need to go talk to that girl.”

  “Are you kidding me? She’s probably back at her office, writing up two pages on how the lonely CEO seduced her.”

  Martha laughed. “You said she kissed you. I’d say those tables were turned.”

  And they had been—in a way that had surprised, and, yes, delighted him. He’d never expected take-no-guff Sarah Griffin to make the first move. “True. Still, it’s better if I stick to work. The company—”

  “Won’t go bankrupt in the next hour. Haven’t you ever heard the old adage?”

  “What adage is that?”

  “If the CEO ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy. And you, Caleb, aren’t happy. At a
ll.” Her face softened. “You haven’t been in a long, long time.”

  “I don’t need to date a reporter to be happy.” Especially not that one. If he got involved with Sarah, he’d be mixing business and pleasure, and that could only lead to disaster.

  Who was he kidding? He was already involved. More than he wanted to be, more than he’d imagined being. And yet he couldn’t seem to untangle himself from the web with Sarah Griffin.

  Martha shook her head. “I disagree. That woman could be the one.”

  “No matter how intriguing she is, she’s still the gossip reporter at the magazine.”

  “True. Though I think that kiss is a sign that you’re changing her mind about the kind of man she thinks you are.” Martha leaned forward, and her kind light-blue eyes met his. “I already know the truth, and I think it’s about time the world does, too.”

  Caleb scowled. “I don’t need to splash my private life onto the pages of a fashion magazine.”

  “Oh, Caleb,” Martha said, sympathy coating her tone, “what makes you think the media would be such a harsh judge?”

  Because he had already judged and convicted himself of his actions in his mind. Guilty of abandonment. Guilty of being too consumed by his own life to be there when he was needed most.

  If only he’d come in earlier that day. If only he’d been more of a partner to his mother, as she’d asked. He would have been there in her office when the stroke hit early that Tuesday morning, and he would have called the ambulance within that golden hour.

  Instead, she’d waited. Suffering. Caleb completely unaware of what was happening just a few blocks away. Out for brunch with a date instead of sitting on the other side of his mother’s desk.

  All he’d done ever since was try to make it up to her. Try to prove that he did care, that she could trust him with her company. Thus far, he’d done a lousy job.

  Martha was the only one who knew the truth about the decisions he had made and the ones he had yet to make. Why she still sang his praises, Caleb didn’t know, but he suspected half of it was her unswerving loyalty to Lenora, the company and, under that same umbrella, himself.