Praise for If the Shoe Fits
Sandra D. Bricker’s oh-so-modern fairy tale—Cinderella without the cinders, an unexpected Charming, and glass slippers flying—is a sophisticated delight from the first word to the last, with an ending as satisfying as crème brûlée. A story of the richest kind of love, If the Shoe Fits does!
CYNTHIA RUCHTI, author of When the Morning Glory Blooms
Sandra D. Bricker’s Cinderella-esque If the Shoe Fits is a delightful blend of faith, humor, romance, and finding Happily Ever After in unexpected places. Truly, a fun and satisfying read.
TAMARA LEIGH, Carol Award–winning author
Any book by Sandra D. Bricker is a bright spot in my day! I’ve been a fan since Love Finds You in Holiday, Florida. Her stories are clever, and she creates characters you can’t help caring about.
ANNIE JONES, bestselling author
If the Shoe Fits is a delightful retelling of a classic fairy tale as only Sandra D. Bricker can write it. With her trademark humor, Bricker weaves the laugh-out-loud story of romance gone awry—as they often do—and weaves in the truth that Happily Ever After is often closer than we realized.
BETH K. VOGT, author of Wish You Were Here and Catch a Falling Star
If the Shoe Fits is a hilarious romp from the first fender-bender to the very end. The characters leapt off the page and into my heart, making me laugh and, at the same time, wondering when they would wise up and fall in love already! When they did, well, it was definitely worth the wait. The shoe? It definitely fit! Do not miss this one!
KATHLEEN Y’BARBO, bestselling author of Flora’s Wish
If the Shoe Fits—written by the queen of romantic comedy, Sandra D. Bricker—is a rollicking good tale of a girl who’s looking for her Prince Charming. If you love to laugh, if you sigh over good love stories, then you’ve got a treat waiting for you. Novel Rocket and I give it a high recommendation.
ANE MULLIGAN, senior editor, Novel Rocket
If the Shoe Fits turns the story of Cinderella on its head in Sandra D. Bricker’s fun new romantic comedy. Bricker does a great job of telling a fast-paced story that offers laughs as well as faith, and a whole lotta heart.
LINDA S. CLARE, novelist (whose alter ego, Miss Writerly Cranky-pants, “gripes so you don’t have to”)
Romantic, witty, and charming. You’re going to fall in love with If the Shoe Fits! This modern-day fairy tale will have you laughing, sighing, and dreaming of Happily Ever Afters.
ANITA HIGMAN, award-winning author of thirty-two books
If the Shoe Fits is the perfect blend of romance, humor, and heart. One heroine who wants the storybook Happily Ever After and one hero who needs the courage to face I Love You, and you have a recipe for love triumphing over a friendship too important to risk. Sprinkle in a delightful cast of supporting characters, and you have a romance you’ll delight to read.
CARA PUTMAN, award-winning author
For Rachelle, Marian, and Barbara.
You three wear the whole cheerleader thing so well!
And special thanks to
Deb and Michele at River North.
© 2013 by
SANDRA D. BRICKER
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission in writing from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Published in association with the literary agency of WordServe Literary Group.
Edited by Cheryl Dunlop Molin
Interior design: Ragont Design
Cover design: DogEared Design, LLC
Cover images: iStock 15363933, 4431227, 3379029
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Bricker, Sandra D.
If the shoe fits / Sandra D. Bricker.
pages cm
Summary: “Julianne used to believe in fairy tales; she’s been watching for Prince Charming to come charging in on his white steed ever since the day her mother read her Cinderella for the first time. But she’s never come close to finding the perfect man–instead she’s always tripping over her childhood best friend, Will. And who finds her Prince Charming on a 10-speed bicycle on the other side of the cul de sac? She and Will are attorneys now, and they’ve joined up in private practice in a beautiful Cincinnati office building that overlooks the Ohio River. And then one day Julianne is on her way to court, and runs right smack dab into Prince Charming. But when she looks again, all she finds is a metaphoric sign she is certain came straight from heaven: The Prince’s toolbox has fallen off the back of his truck, and a work boot along with it. What better way for God to grab the attention of a Cinderella-in-training than to show her a glass slipper … errrr, work boot? … waiting to be reunited with its owner? So she sets out to track down the mysterious Prince Charming. He’s the most gorgeous guy she’s ever seen … and a caring animal rescuer, too. Surely he must be the soul mate God has prepared her for. But, Julianne’s prince is starting to look less and less charming all the time”– Provided by publisher.
ISBN 978-0-8024-0628-6 (pbk.)
1. Women lawyers–Fiction. 2. Cincinnati (Ohio)–Fiction. I. Title.
PS3602.R53I3 2013
813’.6–dc23
2012044784
We hope you enjoy this book from River North Fiction by Moody Publishers. Our goal is to provide high-quality, thought provoking books and products that connect truth to your real needs and challenges. For more information on other books and products written and produced from a biblical perspective, go to www.moodypublishers.com or write to:
River North Fiction
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Printed in the United States of America
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
About the Author
Excerpt from Rise and Shine
Once upon a time, in an enchanting village called Cincinnati, a beautiful fair-haired princess went in search of her prince. She searched high and low for the one who’d been set aside just for her. And right about the time that temptation persuaded her to abandon all hope of finding him …
“Hang on!” Julianne shouted at the cell phone already in flight and hurtling toward the empty passenger seat of her white PT Cruiser. “Ooooh, hang on, Will!”
She pumped the brakes frantically, clutching the steering wheel so that her fingers ached, and virtually ignoring the stream of diet Coke running from the overturned paper cup in her lap. Speeding toward the rear bumper of the sport utility in front of her, she squeezed her eyes shut in anticipation of the impact.
When her car jerked to a violent stop, Julianne cautiously opened one eye and then the o
ther.
“Jules? What’s going on? Jules? Are you all right?”
Julianne looked down to find the cell phone teetering in the half-filled bowl of water on the floor of the car. A bug-eyed goldfish swam around it in wide, frantic circles.
“I’m sorry, sweetie,” she said and cringed, gently lifting the phone from the water and shaking it drip-dry. “I’ll bet that was scary for you, huh?”
“Jules? … Talk to me.”
“Oh,” she said with a start, crinkling her nose as she held the damp instrument to her ear. “Will. Sorry. Some guy up ahead of me slammed on his brakes and nearly caused a three-car pileup, with me as the caboose!”
“Did anyone get hit?”
“No. It seems like we all narrowly escaped the impa—”
Before she could complete the thought, squealing tires traversed into grinding steel and shattering glass, falling to silence after one final thud! from somewhere behind her.
The monotonous clank of her windshield wipers drew Julianne from her state of shock. She pushed the button to lower her car window and poked her head out into the rain.
“What’s going on?” Will’s muffled voice called out to her.
Julianne watched the sight before her in gaping silence.
He had to be more than six feet tall, and his shaggy, blondish hair fell past the collar of the long black coat that seemed to float behind him as he stalked toward her, straight down the double yellow line in the center of the road. A day’s worth of stubble shadowed his suntanned face, along with an intense form of resolve. The soles of his boots pressed puddles in the road into tiny geysers at each determined step, and he glided through without notice. But the best part: the way he gazed down at the enormous bulge of pale yellow fur in his arms as the large dog tilted its loving, grateful gaze upward.
Before she could fully register the pair as anything more than a momentary vision, they disappeared into the pickup truck in front of the SUV ahead of her.
“No,” she found herself squealing right out loud. “No! He’s … leaving.”
“Who?”
“Will, he’s driving away! How do I stop him!”
“Stop who? Was it a hit-and-run? Can you see a plate?”
“N-no,” Julianne stammered, straining out the window for a better look at the driver of the cherry-red Chevy truck.
“It looks like a dog was hit. And God sent an angel to the rescue.”
“What are you babbling about, girl? … Jules, did you hit your head?”
The pickup sped away around the corner, and the four-wheel drive ahead of her followed suit, swerving angrily before screeching through the intersection.
“Hey! Something fell off the angel’s truck,” she said, distracted. “I’m going to pick it up.”
“Pick up … What?”
Julianne thoughtlessly pitched her cell phone to the seat beside her and flicked on the hazard lights. She heard Will scolding her in the distance as she let herself out of the car into the rain and hurriedly approached the obstruction in the road ahead.
There before her—as oddly out of place as, say, a woman standing in the middle of a busy intersection in the pouring rain—sat a red toolbox with one leather work boot propped innocently against it like a billboard advertisement.
Julianne cocked her head and gaped at it for a moment before the blast of car horns propelled her into action. The muscles in her arm flexed painfully all the way up to her neck as she struggled to lift the box, and she grabbed the boot by the laces and ran, dropping them both into the backseat of her car once she reached it. She’d barely closed the door behind her as she thrust the gearshift into drive, and she squealed away just in time to miss the impact of oncoming traffic by a stone’s throw.
“What are you doing now? Jules?”
“His toolbox fell off his truck,” she said as she pressed the speaker button on her iPhone.
“Whose truck?”
“And a boot. So I stopped and picked them up out of the road.”
“A boot? Jules, what are you talking about?”
“I grew up with two older brothers,” she continued as she took the turn onto Ninth. “This kind of toolbox is really expensive. He had the truck bed stacked with all kinds of lumber, and the box fell out when he stopped to save the dog.”
“What dog?”
“The dog that was in the road, Will. Pay attention, would you, please?”
His groan of exasperation was mostly lost on Julianne.
“I’m going to have to find him,” she thought aloud. “I wish I’d have gotten his plate number.”
The idea of finding the dog-saving angel in the red Chevy pickup set her pulse to pounding an octave above the steady beat of windshield wipers that matched her heartbeat.
“Maybe I could call the newspaper and place an ad,” she said as she veered onto the shoulder of the road to avoid the traffic blocking her from turning into the city lot. “Tools like these don’t come cheap. Oh, and the way they were sitting there in the road, the work boot propped up against the box, it was like … a sign. God was telling me something, I just know it. He drove away—”
“Who? God?”
“—but I’m supposed to find him.”
“Find him?”
“Yes, find him,” she declared. “I’m not going to stop searching until—”
“And, by George,” he interrupted with dramatic flair, “you’ll take that boot to every workshop in the kingdom if you have to! Every man shall try it on until, at last, you find your prince.”
Julianne didn’t reply. She just grinned and shrugged slightly. It was the germ of a plan, after all.
“Will, I’m due in court. I’ve got to run.”
“I’ll see you back at the office when you’re through.”
Once she found a parking spot, Julianne slipped her phone into her bag as she ran. As she skidded around the corner and through the double glass doors into the courthouse, water sloshed from the fishbowl to the rubber mat lining the floor.
“Oh, phooey!” she cried as she scampered up the stairs to the second floor, shielding the open top of the bowl with her hand in an effort to keep the stunned fish inside it while squeezing her briefcase beneath one free arm.
“Ms. Bartlett,” Judge Hillman greeted her the moment she burst through the door to the courtroom. “We were just speculating as to whether you were going to join us this afternoon.”
“Oh, Your Honor, I am so sorry. The weather is horrible out there, and the traffic trying to get off Ninth Street is impossible. I apologize for—”
“Ms. Bartlett, is that a fish?” he interrupted.
“Oh, yes, sir. Yes, it is.”
“What, pray tell, is it doing in my courtroom?”
“Th-this is Jonah, Your Honor. He’s my pet goldfish, sir. And I had him in my car, planning to take him over to our new office before I was due in court. But because of the weather and the traffic, and this really amazing man … a vision, really …”
“And the tie-up on Ninth?”
“Yes, sir, because of that, I didn’t have time to stop by the office first, and I couldn’t just leave him in the car.”
“No, you couldn’t do that. Why again?”
Julianne set the fishbowl and her briefcase on the table before her, slipping out of her diet Coke–splotched raincoat as she continued. “Begging Your Honor’s pardon, I thought I could set him right here on the corner of the table.”
“Bailiff? Is there a No Pets rule for my courtroom?” Judge Hillman asked Bridget, and the stocky woman grazed Julianne with a serious eye.
“Yes, Your Honor. But I don’t think we’ve ever found the need to exercise it until now.”
“Ms. Bartlett,” Hillman said seriously with an arch to his rather bushy gray eyebrow, “you may leave, um …”
“Jonah. Like the guy inside the whale?”
“Yes. Leave it right there on the table for today. But be advised that there will be no further allowances for pe
ts of any kind in my courtroom. Is that understood?”
“Y-yes, Your Honor. Thank you so much.”
Julianne ran her hands through her damp hair and pressed the front of her navy suit.
“Are we ready to proceed then, Ms. Bartlett?”
“Yes, sir. I’m ready.” Casting a casual glance toward opposing counsel, she added, “If Mr. Flannigan is ready, that is.”
“Oh, I’ve been ready for quite some time, Your Honor,” Flannigan replied.
“All right then. Let’s play courtroom, shall we?” he asked them. “I’ll be the judge. Is your client present, Ms. Bartlett?”
“Uh, no, sir, he’s not.”
Flannigan groaned, and Hillman released a sigh from behind the bench.
“Did your client understand that part of the arrangement of being out on bail includes showing up in court?”
“Yes, sir,” Julianne answered politely. “But there are extenuating circumstances surrounding this case.”
“Your Honor!” Flannigan exclaimed, and he went silent when the judge raised his hand.
“Your client was caught on videotape in Leffler’s Jewelry Store stealing a two-carat diamond, Ms. Bartlett.”
“Yes, sir.”
“A diamond which he swallowed, but which never passed through his intestinal tract, is that correct?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And Mr. Bertinni does not contest his guilt in this matter?”
“No, Your Honor. In fact, he is hoping to make full restitution to Leffler’s, which is why he’s not present in the courtroom today and why we’re hoping for a continuance on this matter.”
“Can you explain that to me, Ms. Bartlett?”
“Well, sir, Antonio Bertinni is currently a patient at Good Samaritan Hospital.”
“The aforementioned diamond?” Hillman asked.
“Yes, sir. It’s passing through his system as we speak.”
“Continuance granted,” the judge declared without expression. “We’ll hear the details of this case on the twenty-third at 9:30 a.m.”
One firm rap of the gavel punctuated the judgment.
“You are the luckiest broad on earth,” Flannigan cracked as he passed her and walked out the door.
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