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

by Cherrie Mack

  He slowly closed his eyes and blew out a breath. The hope he had that she would ask for something different was dashed. “I can’t do love, sugar. I told you that.”

  “No, I know. I was hoping for … well…”

  “Spit it out, Allie, and stop acting like a child.”

  “You’re annoyed with me?”

  “Yes—no. Just tell me what it is. I haven’t got all night.”

  “Well, excuse me. I didn’t realize fairies were so damn busy,” she said sarcastically. “Since you’re in such a rush, I’ll be blunt. I want Zach to choose me over Adrienne. I want to be on his arm for his opening night on Broadway. I want to be in the shoes that were meant for Adrienne and for him to see her for what she truly is. Most of all, I want Adrienne to squirm with jealousy.”

  He ran his fingers through his hair and tried hard not to show his disappointment in her. He pegged her for someone who wouldn’t stoop to this low, but he was wrong. She was just like everyone else. “You are acting like a petulant child, but if that’s what’s gonna bring you your happiness, then fine. But you need to work at it. I can’t snap my fingers and make it happen. It doesn’t work like that. I happen to know Mr. Brady has a taste for seafood. We’ll start there.”

  “Well, I know how to cook.” She beamed.

  “Not what he likes.” Angelo leaned over and scribbled an address on the back of a scrap of paper. “Meet me here tomorrow night at six sharp.” He got closer, and when he handed her the paper, they touched. His breath caught in his throat when she looked up at him.

  “What’s your real name, Angelo?” she asked sweetly.

  “Don’t be late.” And he was gone.

  *

  Allie stared at the scrap paper and felt the heat slowly dissipate from where he had touched her. She fluffed it off. Angelo had the physical appearance of the type of man she despised. Ink belonged on paper, not on a limb, and she had no use for anyone with a nose ring. But oddly enough, she found herself typing the address into her cell phone, and then folding the scrap of paper and tucking it into her hat box that was filled with her special keepsakes.

  Chapter 6

  The address was for a cooking school downtown. Allie glanced at her watch as she rushed inside. Whew! I made it. She noticed five women mulling around the hallway of the small, but impeccably clean, school. Just outside the door, the women began to cluster together. She heard whispering and giggling. Unable to resist, Allie got closer.

  Taped to the side of the door was a notice to the students of The Art of Italian Cooking. It stated that Chef Chiappa would not be instructing tonight and in his place was Chef Angelo. No way! Allie walked up to the door and took a peek through the glass partition. The women were squealing like little girls at the good-looking, bad-boy chef who was about to teach them the art of cooking. She smirked as she watched him dole out little bowls at each station. His hair was tied back in a ponytail, and his chef hat was slightly crooked. His broad body filled out the chef’s coat until the buttons pulled at the fabric in protest. Allie giggled—just like the other ladies. It was then she understood what had them so flustered. Angelo looked … hot.

  They all stood back when they saw him approach. He opened the door to the classroom and smiled. “Good evening, ladies. You can put your things away and join me in the kitchen. You all have a station, and remember to wash your hands and then wash them again.” They rushed inside while Allie took her time. She normally would feel out of place, but with Angelo she felt comfortable.

  As she made her way over to one of the stations, Angelo winked at her, and she felt her cheeks heat. Whatever these women have, it must be catching. He clapped his hands together, making her jump. “Let’s go ladies. We will be making calamari, and each one of you has a date with a squid. Let’s move. All cell phones are to be left in your purses. I will not have germs on my counter. You can text all you want—after class. Also, your hair gets pulled back under your chef hat, or you can wear a hair net.”

  * * * *

  Fifteen minutes later and Allie was already having trouble. She didn’t expect to have any problems as she was a decent cook, but squid was just not her thing, and cleaning it was something she had never thought she would have to do. Angelo was stomping around like a drill sergeant and being a little too flirtatious with a brunette who cleaned her squid just perfectly. Ugh! She was mutilating the damn thing and couldn’t seem to stop herself. Angelo was close, and she could feel his gaze on her. She turned her head, and they bumped foreheads. “Ouch.” He groaned as he rubbed the sore spot.

  “I’m sorry Ang—Chef Angelo. I’m having a little trouble with the squid.”

  “I see.” He leaned closer and whispered, “I thought you could cook?”

  “I can cook. I just can’t cook squid,” she shouted. The class looked up and stared. He pursed his lips and nodded his head. He addressed the class. “I see. She says she can cook,” he said sarcastically. The students began to giggle and whisper.

  “No. No, that’s not what I meant.”

  “Uh-huh.” He stood behind her and pressed his chest to her back. Putting his arms around her, he grabbed the knife. “Watch me. Slice like this.” While she was trapped in between Angelo and the counter, she watched his strong hands take charge as his muscular arms flexed and bumped against her. As he continued to demonstrate, Allie received her first lesson of the night on how to cook up a plate of desire. She couldn’t understand her reaction to him.

  When he stepped away, he opened his arms. “Ta-da.”

  She swallowed hard. Fairy godmother, remember?

  * * * *

  Angelo watched Allie clean her station perfectly. The little know-it-all was in for a big surprise. Although she mutilated the shrimp and overcooked the dish, she was a delight to observe, and Angelo had fun razzing her. She took it well, but he wondered if she would hold up under the final test of the evening. He laughed to himself, remembering how he purposely mislabeled the dishes of herbs at Allie’s station. “Congratulations on your first dish of calamari. Remember, ladies, no one likes a rubber squid. If you overcook it, it’s over. Right, Allie?” Obviously pointing out her error, he heard her snarl, “Yep.”

  “So I have one more lesson before I dismiss class. Each of you will have to identify the herbs I divided up into bowls. They have been labeled so the rest of the class can see what they are and how you answer. I will blindfold each of you and ask you to smell the herbs and tell me its identity. It’s important for you to recognize these just by scent. I will work my way from Diane down to Allie here. Are we ready?”

  Diane was first to be blindfolded. The sexy brunette put her womanly charms into overdrive as she managed to flirt with him every chance she could. No man likes an easy target. Next up was Morgan. The poor girl shivered when he placed the blindfold on. She correctly identified four out of five. Each lady had an opportunity, and then it was Allie’s turn.

  “All right, Allie. It’s your turn. Since you know how to cook, this shouldn’t take too long.” She smirked at him when he offered her a wink.

  “This should be cake. I have a good nose. I can smell your feet right through your shoes,” she said sarcastically.

  “Good to know.” He smiled as he tied the blindfold over her eyes. He leaned in close and whispered into her ear. “You’re about to get schooled, sugar.” He leaned back and watched her tongue dart out, licking her lips. The sight of her blindfolded with her lips glistening was sending his imagination soaring. Clearing his throat and his mind, Angelo began Allie’s test. “Okay, here is the first one.”

  He placed the herb under her nose. Allie smiled wide. “Cilantro.”

  “No. Try again.”

  “No? It’s cilantro. I’m sure of it. It has a very pungent smell.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, Allie. You’re wrong. Ladies? Does this say cilantro?”

  The response was a collective “No.” She pouted her bottom lip and immediately reached for the blindfold. Angelo placed his hand ove
r hers and guided it back to her side as he tried to reel in his amusement.

  “That’s okay, Allie. Try this one.” He lifted another dish up to her nose.

  “Basil.”

  “No. Try again, Allie.”

  “It’s basil,” she insisted.

  “I’m sorry. You’re wrong.”

  “Are you kidding? Basil has a very fragrant smell. Is this a joke?”

  “Ladies? Does this say basil?” Again it was a no. Angelo saw the rush of blood heat her cheeks. “It’s okay, Allie. This is not for everyone. Would you like to try one more?”

  “Yes, I would,” she snapped.

  She waited. The sweet smell of spearmint leaves was put under her nose. She smiled. Angelo knew she smelled spearmint every day from her tea. “Mint,” she said with confidence.

  “Aw.” The class wasn’t cheering. Allie swallowed hard. “Are you kidding?”

  He chuckled. “I’m afraid not. I think I’d like you to stay after class, Allie.”

  She heard the other students giggle. She ripped off her blindfold as Angelo was discarding all the herbs into the trash bin. Eyeing the greens he was so conveniently discarding, she gave him an accusatory stare, which he promptly ignored.

  * * * *

  As the students readied themselves to leave, Chef Angelo leaned against the wall. He was polite when he turned down two drink invites and one marriage proposal. His laugh and smile were so contagious it lifted the mood she’d been in for the last three years.

  When the class was gone, Allie stood with her hands on her hips. “I want to do it again.”

  “What?”

  “I want you to test me again. I know what I smelled. And I think you had a sneaky hand in my results.”

  He put his hand over his heart. “Are you accusing me of fixing the test?”

  She walked over and picked up the blindfold. “I want to do it again.”

  “Seriously? You have nothing to prove to me, Allie. Class is over.”

  “I don’t care. You’re my fairy godmother, and it’s your job to make me happy. Do it. Blindfold me. I want another test.”

  His apprehension made her curious, but she insisted nicely, “Please?”

  “Fine. Come over here.”

  The butterflies she felt invade her stomach when he first blindfolded her were back. And the anticipation of his touch, simple as it might be, had her feeling restless. She slowly made her way over to him. His smirk had her staring at his lips. Would his kiss be gentle or rough, she wondered. Would he ask or take? She began to notice every enticing characteristic about Angelo, from his sexy smile to his strong yet gentle touch.

  He held out the blindfold. “Turn around.” He placed the silky material over her eyes and tied it. He directed her toward a station. His touch, not as tender as before, seemed more mechanical. Allie stopped and lifted the blindfold up a smidgen. She peeked out, asking, “Can I sit?”

  Angelo hoisted her up and sat her on the edge of the counter. “There. Is that better?” His hands rested on her waist. She placed the blindfold back in its rightful position. “Yes. I’m ready.”

  She felt his hands linger at her waist and then slowly drag over her upper thighs. When he pulled away, he left a chill along her skin and a dull ache between her legs. His silence and her inability to see left her with nothing but a fantasy of a sexual interlude with a man she originally thought unappealing. Her breath came in dizzying gasps as she tried hard to control her breathing. Allie chewed her top lip and nervously fingered the blindfold as pictures of Angelo’s hands on her body invaded her mind. Fighting to keep her oncoming arousal at bay, her nerves gave way to involuntary pulses throughout her body. Stoking a need to be calm, she held her breath and let it out slowly. “Are you there?” she whispered.

  Feeling his warmth directly in front of her, she sought him out by placing her hand on his chest. A smile pulled at the corner of her mouth as she realized that under his hard exterior was a heart that she noticed was beating quite fast. It made him vulnerable. Allie splayed her fingers wide to feel its thumping, and he quickly covered her hand with his own.

  “I’m here.” He slowly lowered her hand to her side and stepped away.

  She inhaled deeply and giggled, blowing out a nervous breath. Although she couldn’t see him, she could feel him watching. The small space between them pulled at her until she felt herself straighten her posture and thrust her chest forward in a tempting gesture. Her bottom lip trembled as he remained quiet. Finally, Allie conjured the nerve to break the silence. “Are you going to test me now?”

  “Ssh,” he whispered as he slowly opened her legs to stand in between. She could feel his hot breath brush her skin and her nipples tighten in reaction to his closeness. Every nerve ending came alive under his simple touch, and her body hummed with excitement. Allie struggled to make sense of her desire to be kissed as her body gravitated toward his. She wet her lips to prepare for the moment his lips would touch hers when a movement startled her. Suddenly the scent of parsley surrounded her.

  “Well? Can you tell me what herb that is?” His melodious tone of voice sounded different, almost monotone. Disappointment fisted in the pit of her stomach as she realized his intention did not include a kiss. She choked out, “Parsley.”

  “Very good. And this one?”

  “Chives?”

  “Excellent. One more.”

  “Thyme.”

  “Well done.” He stepped away, leaving a cold emptiness Allie never felt before. She pulled the blindfold off and set it down as she watched him. The emotional void made her want to cry out as she tried to reconcile her feelings. Angelo was acting distant. He didn’t glance her way as he took off his chef uniform. When he finally looked over at her, his eyes briefly looked away and then back again. “Did you like the blindfold?”

  Was that disappointment she saw in his eyes? Allie reached up and massaged her neck, trying to look nonchalant. She needed to cool off. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, if your intention is to win the heart of Mr. Zach Brady, then you better get used to wearing one.”

  “Is that some kind of joke? Because he certainly isn’t ugly. Far from it.”

  He chuckled. “I guess he’s okay-looking if you like that type.”

  “What type is that?”

  “The pretty-boy type. All around mister perfect.”

  “Jealous are you? Because you two are complete opposites. And yeah, I guess he is my type.” Her sarcasm returned.

  He slammed the lockers shut one by one and approached the counter where she still perched on the edge. “He likes kink, Allie. Lots of it. So get ready because you’ll need to let him know that you’d be a willing participant in his sexual tastes. Are you prepared to do that?” He was acting belligerent and pompous.

  “Are you kidding? I love kink. All sorts of kink. Why, in high school I was named most likely to be kinky.”

  “Now you’re just being ridiculous.”

  “Call it what you will. But thanks for the heads up. When I get home, I’ll dust off my fur handcuffs.”

  “Yeah? Well make sure you get a good night’s sleep because your dream man is a runner, and tomorrow morning at six you and I are going for a nice looong jog.”

  “Hey.” She jumped down off the counter. “You’re supposed to do what makes me happy. Sleeping late makes me happy.”

  “No. Snagging Zach and watching your stepsister grovel is what you’re after, is it not?”

  She squared her shoulders. “It is.”

  “Good. Just making sure.”

  As they walked out into the night, Allie fumed. How did she go from wanting to kiss him to wanting to punch him? And he seemed just as angry as she was. She calmed herself. “Angelo?”

  “What?” he said, his annoyance apparent.

  She was ready to offer him the truth about her kinky side, which was practically nonexistent, but his response was so snippy she changed the subject. “What is your real name?”

 
Angelo stopped and looked at her. “Six a.m. Don’t oversleep.” And then he was gone.

  *

  Angelo followed Allie home from afar. He hated himself for falling for her. He’d come so close to kissing her but stopped himself. He knew someone like him could never be with someone like her. She was too angry at the world. Completing this assignment offered him another chance. He must put Allie and Zach together even though it would kill him emotionally. If he didn’t put them together, it would kill him physically. Being a fairy godmother really sucks.

  Chapter 7

  Allie felt her grogginess lift as bits and pieces of reality tugged at her brain with the reminder that it was morning. Feeling warm as she hunkered down under the covers, she dozed. The thought of going outside made her shiver under her blankets. She wanted to stay right where she was. Suddenly, she was jerked awake at the sound of her alarm blaring in her darkened room. Allie reached over and angrily clicked off the hideous sound and fell back on her bed.

  When a thought of Angelo lying beside her weaseled its way into her mind, she pulled back the covers, allowing the cool air to blanket her body. It was a poor attempt to alleviate the memory of the night before, but she managed to drag herself from her bed anyway. Didn’t I want to run? Or was it because Adrienne did? Allie found herself examining some of her behaviors as of late. She didn’t like her conclusion, so she wiped it from her mind.

  Sitting at the kitchen table, she mindlessly popped a few grapes into her mouth while she over-thought her life. She had a fairy godmother, and even that wasn’t working out for her. Why couldn’t he just fix what was wrong? And why was she thinking about Angelo more than Zach? She sipped her mint tea, hoping it would wake her out of her haze of irritability.

  Allie wore a black running suit and a thermal long-sleeve shirt underneath to ward off the cold. She silently compared herself to Adrienne, as she often did. The thoughts made her angry. Allie was determined to teach Adrienne a lesson and start by accomplishing the task Angelo set before her. She pushed her chair away from the table and got up to stretch. Bringing the fruit bowl to the counter, she washed her tea cup. When her thoughts sought to wreak havoc on her mood, she bit down on her top lip. Damn it! She would stop her thoughts even if she made her lip bleed.