My Sister's Shoes (Little Black Box, Book 1)

by Cherrie Mack

  Allie shook her head. “No.”

  The woman studied her. “Hmm. You know, I’ve worked in this hospital for years and swore I knew every nurse on this floor.”

  “Oh. I’m interning at Longwood and stopped on my way to visit a … friend of my dad.”

  “I see. I’m sorry to have kept you, but you must have a twin in California someplace. I could have sworn the minute I saw you that you were the nurse who spoke to me.”

  “It must be my doppelganger.” Why not? Fairies exist. Allie laughed.

  The woman’s face paled, and her eyes looked away as if she believed it to be true. She put her hand out. “I’m Sue Manford.”

  Allie switched the water pitcher to her left hand and extended her right for a handshake. “Allie Adams. It’s nice to meet you, Sue.”

  “I know this is gonna sound crazy, but I was visiting a friend on the west coast last week and … well, long story short, her son is in a bad way. I spent the night in the waiting area with her praying. Anyway, when she went to his room, I was left to wait. A few minutes later a young woman came in. She gave me hope for what looked like a bleak situation and told me everything would work out okay. She told me of a place called Sun Coast Rehabilitation Center, and I should tell my friend to place her son there. I just remember what she looked like, and well—you look just like her.”

  Allie smiled. “Well, I can assure you it wasn’t me. I’ve never even been out of New York. And your friend? Is her little boy going to be okay?”

  “I’m afraid it doesn’t look good. He’s a—”

  “I could die of thirst in here,” Trudy announced from the doorway of her room. Sue Manford straightened her posture. “I’m sorry to keep you. You’re visiting Trudy Monroe?”

  “Yes.”

  She nodded her head and offered a sympathetic expression. “I took her information before. I won’t keep you, dear.”

  Sue Manford turned and walked away. Allie called out, “It was nice meeting you.”

  She watched her wave her hand in the air without turning around. “Same here, Allie.”

  Chapter 4

  Zach Brady sat at his desk trying to make sense of his disorganized pile of paper. Unable to locate his production cost analysis, his frustration grew. His apartment was untidy and he needed help—and sooner rather than later. No longer willing to wait to hear from Allison, he decided to call his old service. When a man answered instead of the usual woman, he was caught off guard.

  “Hi there, this is Zachary Brady. I would like a service call today if at all possible.”

  “Why of course, Mr. Brady. I will have someone over shortly.”

  “This is Alynn’s Cleaning Service, correct?”

  “No. You’ve reached Little Tutu’s Cleaning Sprites.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry. I could’ve sworn I dialed—”

  “No need to apologize. I will be sending Allison over. She works for the Chadwick woman. I think she mentioned you might need someone.”

  “Oh, Allison? All right then. Today you say?”

  “Yes. She will be over shortly. Oh, and Mr. Brady?”

  “Yes?”

  “She’s a whiz with plants. I’ve never seen a girl grow things like Allison. If you have a terrace, a garden she can make. Bye now.”

  Zach hung up the phone. Huh? A garden would fit perfectly into his plan. The terrace did need some sprucing up, and what better place for a garden than that?

  * * * *

  Allie lay wide-eyed in her bed. She hated Mondays; they were drab and imperfect. Counting down to Friday was always the first thing she did on Monday. Stretching out her arms, she heard her cell phone buzz. It was a text from Longwood asking her to pay a visit to a family member looking for hospice for a relative. She sent a text back agreeing to go since the address was just across town. Dragging herself from the warmth of her bed, she headed to the kitchen.

  Wasn’t today the day she planned to start an exercise regimen? Oh, well. It would just have to wait. Like so many mornings before, Allie took comfort in the simple act of preparing her tea. The routine was comforting, and she appreciated this time of morning when the birds could be heard chirping along with the sounds of the city. When she sat down to take her first sip of tea, she blew on the hot liquid, and the scent of the delicious vanilla spearmint leaves woke her senses and prepared her for the day. The first swallow was always the best … until Adrienne appeared in the kitchen.

  Running in place, Adrienne was sweaty but in a beautiful kind of way. She reached for a coffee pod and brewed herself a cup. Standing at the counter, she did side-bends as she stretched her limbs. Allie eyed her get-up. From her head to her toes, Adrienne’s clothing screamed money. Allie made a face behind her back and Adrienne snorted. “It’s not nice to make faces, Allie.” And she swiftly turned around to face her. “I can feel you snarling.”

  Allie shrugged her shoulders. “And it’s not nice to punk people, either. How much did you pay that muscle head to spook me last night?”

  “What are you babbling about now?”

  Allie got up from the table. “Oh, I think you know, and you’re embarrassed because your little plan backfired. Was Mr. Martin in on the whole little black box thing too?”

  Adrienne eyes flashed in such a way Allie knew she had been wrong. Damn it! Now she knew she was really left with a big fat nothing. Allie quickly tried to make a save. “Not that I opened it. Not yet anyway. I will when I am ready, and I’m sure it will be great.”

  Adrienne narrowed her eyes at her. “Hmm. You’re acting stranger than usual, Allie.” She took a swig of her coffee. “You know, Allie, you should really start exercising. You’re getting a little wide around the middle. Not that the folks at Longwood care.” And Adrienne sashayed out of the kitchen.

  * * * *

  The Upper East Side was a far cry from her West Side digs. Not that she’d ever live in either area after she became a nurse. Manhattan would be a memory and a train ride away. Allie searched her cell phone for the original text from Longwood and came up empty. What the hell? Deciding to call, she hit the contact options on her iPhone when the text reappeared. That was strange. She noted the apartment number and put her cell phone away.

  At the desk she informed a very stately-looking gentleman named Henry that the resident in apartment Twelve C was expecting her. “Just one moment, madam.”

  “Sure.” Allie looked around. The pre-war building was beautifully preserved, and apartment Twelve C must have a great view of the Hudson River. As she stared at the overly-waxed marble floor, she thought about Angelo. What was that all about? If it wasn’t Adrienne, then who? And why? Her thoughts were interrupted by the doorman. “You may go up, madam.”

  “Thanks, Henry.” He scowled at her. Tightwad.

  Allie was directed toward the elevator. Once inside, she applied fresh lipstick and shook out her long, wavy hair. She hadn’t overdressed, but wanted to look neat. Under her mid-length commuter trench coat, she wore dark denim jeans with boots and a white blouse. She added a pair of gold, dangling earrings and her usual makeup, which consisted of very little.

  The elevator doors opened to a small hallway with old wooden floors. There were old-fashioned numbers on each unit. After Allie knocked on apartment door Twelve C, she smoothed her hands over her coat and straightened her posture. When the door opened to reveal Mr. Zach Brady, she froze. His smile said he was expecting her, and he greeted her warmly. “Hi, Allison. I’m so glad you’re here. Come in. Please.”

  Allie stood inside the small alcove leading into Zach’s apartment. She struggled to understand what was going on. “Can I take your coat?” he said.

  “Sure—yes, of course.” Allie watched him size her up as she untied the belt on her coat. Slipping it off her shoulders, she handed it to him.

  “Oh—I should have told the service I don’t require you to wear a uniform. Follow me.”

  “Uniform?” Allie took a step and froze as she looked at her reflection in the ha
llway mirror. To her horror, she wore a white smock-like jacket with long, pink sleeves and dark pants. Her shoes looked like black clogs any old man would proudly wear to a bocce game. Her hair was pulled back and pinned at the side with a bobby pin. A bobby pin? She was dreaming. She had to be dreaming, and she needed to wake up. Allie looked down at her arm and pinched herself. When that didn’t work, she slapped her cheek. Hard.

  “Are you okay? Do you want to call the police on yourself? Because, if I’m not mistaken—that’s assault.” He chuckled at his own humor.

  “Uh … do you have a powder room I can use?”

  Zach furrowed his brow and pointed her to the hallway bathroom without uttering another word.

  Allie immediately dropped the top on the toilet and sat down. She placed her head between her knees and took a few deep breaths. Once she calmed herself, she got up and ran cold water on her wrists and splashed some on her face for the hell of it. As she looked in the mirror at her reflection, she mentally ran through her morning activities. Did her tea have more than tea leaves in it? Was she hallucinating? By the look and feel of her uniform, she wasn’t. But when she spotted the insignia on the jacket, her eyes widened in shock. Grabbing the material, she pulled the lapel closer to the mirror. Written in calligraphy, it said, “Little Tutu’s Cleaning Sprites.” Allie growled through her teeth, “Angelo!”

  In seconds, he appeared, “Yes?”

  Allie screamed in fright.

  “Ssh. He’ll hear you,” he whispered.

  She turned the water on full blast to drown out her angry whispers. “What do you think you’re doing? What is this? What kind of drug did you give me?”

  “Hold on a minute, sweet thing. I don’t do drugs. I’m more the ‘just say no’ type of guy. Actually, I—”

  “Shut up! You’ve got some explaining to do, or so help me Angelo, or whatever your name is, you’ll be wearing a permanent tutu and singing soprano for the rest of your days.”

  “Okay, okay. Calm down. It’s simple really. I am your fairy godmother, and I’m here to help you achieve happiness.”

  “By putting me in a maid uniform wearing clogs and a bobby pin? That’s your plan?”

  “Y-Yes.”

  “Okay. I need to speak with your manager or something. This is not the way to make me happy. You have no idea what—”

  A knock startled her. “Are you okay in there? You have me kind of worried out here.”

  “Oh. I’m fine really. I-I was just finishing up, I had a big breakfast.” She slapped her hand to her forehead. Holy fuck!

  She looked around and Angelo was gone. She realized she had no other choice than to make the best of it for now and deal with that oversized biker fairy later on.

  Zach Brady was waiting when Allie stepped out of the bathroom. His expression showed his apprehension, but it quickly changed to one of concern. “You okay? Really, you seem a little shaken up.”

  “I’m fine, Mr. Brady.” I just had a little spat with a sprite! She forced a smile. “Now, let’s get down to business. How can I help you?”

  “Right. Well, besides the usual clean up, I wonder if I can convince you to give me your specialty?”

  “My specialty? I don’t suppose you were told what that was when you scheduled me?”

  “I’ve got to confess, Allison, I was calling my old service when, by some strange reason, I happened to get your company. Since I knew who you were, I thought, why not?” He shrugged his shoulders.

  Allie nodded her head in understanding. “Of course. Do you know who you spoke with?”

  “Not sure. I felt foolish asking since I made the call. Some dude with a really deep voice.”

  “That would be … Gweneviere. Do you know he once dreamed of becoming a dancing sprite on Broadway?”

  His brows drew together. “A sprite? Really?”

  “Go figure.”

  “I guess that explains the name of the company.”

  “Yep. You gotta turn broken dreams into something, I suppose.”

  “So, do you think you could give me what I want?”

  Anytime, anywhere!

  Zach walked over to a set of doors and threw them open. “It would be out here.” The cool wind rushed inside, tickling her skin and raising goose bumps on her arms. Allie rushed to the terrace. “Your view of the river is amazing. And the sun hits this terrace so perfectly.”

  “I was thinking about a flower garden out here with a few potted trees. I want a place that can take me away from the city, even when I’m still here. Do you think you can do it?”

  “I—well—I—” She watched his smile slowly fade.

  “Gweneviere led me to believe you were amazing with flowers. I will compensate you for the extra time, of course. I will give you access to my place on your schedule. It’s … well … I just started dating Adrienne Chadwick, and she loves flowers. I thought this would be a great way to impress her.”

  “Adrienne Chadwick?” She’d have a bar and a lounge chair on this terrace in a flash.

  “Yes. She’s really great, but I’m sure you know that.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Did you know she was studying to be a hospice nurse before she came into all her money? She still volunteers locally. I’m looking forward to getting to know her.”

  Allie was suddenly infuriated. How dare she pretend to be me! “And her looks have nothing to do with it, huh? Just the size of her heart, you say?”

  He smiled. “It’s the package, Allison. The whole package.”

  “Mmm. Listen, Mr. Brady, I will help you, but you must promise never to tell Miss Chadwick you hired me. Don’t even bring up my name, okay?”

  “Deal. Thank you, Allison. With your help, I’ll have Miss Chadwick right where I want her.”

  So will I. They clasped hands and shook on it.

  Chapter 5

  Allie paced her bedroom. “Angelo! I’m warning you. You better show your face, or I’ll come to Mulberry Street and hunt you down like the dog you are.”

  “Take it easy, sugar. I was in a bath. Besides, you need a little cooling off for that Gweneviere crack.” Startled by his quick appearance, she watched him lean his buttocks against her window sill. His wet hair brushed his wide shoulders, sending droplets of water traveling down between his pectorals, over his defined abdomen, and disappearing beneath the thick towel he wrapped around his waist. His olive skin glistened, and she could smell his fresh ocean scent. Allie pinched herself, but he was still there. “Fairies take baths?”

  “Does a witch fly on a broomstick?”

  She cocked her head and then shook it. “What am I going to do? I know nothing about plants. I have a black thumb.” She motioned her hands up and down the length of her body. “There is nothing green. Anywhere.”

  “Don’t worry. Do you panic like this every time you have a dilemma?”

  Allie faced him with her hands on her hips. “No. I have a problem when my fairy godmother, who, by the way, looks like he could be the leader of a gang, likes to play dress up by putting me in a servant’s uniform and throwing me to the wolves.”

  “If it were my game, that wouldn’t have been the maid uniform I’d pick.”

  “Great. I get the sarcastic godmother. Is there a way to trade you in?”

  Angelo let out a loud sigh and pushed off the window sill. He got closer to her. “My job is to point you toward a happily ever after. It’s not to solve your problems or give you a quick fix for an already fucked up life. Got it?”

  Allie crinkled her forehead and slowly shook her head. “I’m sorry, but I’m still questioning whether you’re real or if I’m in the midst of some psychotic break.”

  He pulled her into his arms and tucked her head under his chin. “Does this feel real?”

  She felt his heart beating against her and relaxed into his embrace. She let out a soft sigh. “Umm, yes,” she whispered. “You feel real. Can I ask you a question?”

  “Shoot.”

  “Is Angelo your
real name?”

  “No.”

  She lifted her head and looked deep into his eyes. He gave her a half-smile and held her stare. She felt her muscles loosen and the stress drain from her fingertips. She leaned into him, pressing her breasts against his bare chest, and held him tighter. “I hadn’t noticed before, but the color of your eyes are the most beautiful I’ve ever seen. The green is just—” and before Allie could finish her sentence, Angelo was gone. She looked around her empty bedroom. Either this was really happening, or she was going completely crazy.

  * * * *

  Allie helped herself to a cup of tea and thought about her situation. What were the rules? No money or love? But isn’t that what brings happiness? Allie watched Adrienne wander into the kitchen and gave her a nod of acknowledgement while she chatted on her cell phone. Excitedly she said, “I am going to the event of the year because on opening night I will get Zach to ask me to be his escort. I have a plan. I know! I’m so happy. I need to shop for the perfect gown to go with my crystal-embellished Manolo Blanicks.” She is so sickening! And in that moment an idea formed. Allie rushed back to her bedroom. She had to speak to Angelo right away.

  *

  Angelo held up Allie’s eyelash curler and examined it while she drummed her fingers on her dressing table. “What the hell is this contraption?” he asked.

  “It’s an eyelash curler, and you’re not helping.”

  “What does it do?”

  “Uh. It’s self-explanatory.” She grabbed it from his hand, applied it to her eyelashes, and squeezed.

  Angelo sucked in a breath through his clenched teeth. “You could cut them off that way, no?”

  “No. It’s not a blade. Angelo, will you get serious? I called you here to talk about a plan.”

  He couldn’t help but admire her spunk. She was very beautiful, only she didn’t know it, and she was funny in a moody sort of way too. Frustrated with her lack of self-confidence, he crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes at her. “Just say what it is you want, Allie. It’s why I’m here. What will make you happy?” For some odd reason, she fidgeted in her seat. She wouldn’t raise her eyes and looked away when she spoke. “Okay. I want Zach Brady.”