Swept Off Her Stilettos

by Fiona Harper

  He was peering over the top of the ‘Closed’ sign, the afternoon sun tinting the tips of his messy-but-sexy hair gold. I held my breath to stop myself from running over to the door, yanking it open, flinging my arms around him and burying my fingers in that shaggy mop. I didn’t. My butt was frozen to the counter and I let Alice waddle over to the door and unlock it instead. She had steel in her eyes when she turned back. Steel and knowledge.

  Oh, heck. I was rumbled.

  ‘Well, I’m off, then,’ she said breezily, grabbing her bag and swinging it over her shoulder. She kissed Adam on the cheek as he entered the shop, and then waddled out of the door, pausing briefly to turn back, smile meaningfully at me and let me have her parting shot.

  ‘Be good.’

  I smiled weakly back, not promising anything, because I knew I wasn’t about to be anything but very, very bad.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Cry Me A River

  Coreen’s Confessions

  No more confessions. There’s nothing left to tell—except for how the story ends …

  ALICE disappeared, and the compact and cluttered shop floor of Coreen’s Closet fell silent. I didn’t know what to say to him. However, Adam proved just how much he could say without pesky things like words getting in his way. The twinkle in his eyes—my twinkle—blazed out at me. Pretty soon it spread to the corners of his eyes, causing them to crease, and then it worked its way down to engulf his mouth. I was tempted to dive into that smile and lose myself in it.

  ‘Hi,’ he said, his voice low and warm. I reminded myself this was a Monday afternoon. I had no business thinking about Sunday mornings.

  ‘Hi,’ I said back.

  We looked across the shop at each other.

  ‘Do you want to grab something to eat?’ he asked.

  I sucked a mouthful of air in and held it in my lungs. ‘Maybe later.’ I glanced back at the open door to the office. ‘I’ve got some things I need to catch up on. After the weekend …’

  It made me feel worse that he believed me.

  ‘Hold that thought!’ he said, his smile widening further. Then he walked over to me, dropped one sweet, intoxicating kiss on my lips and strolled out of the door.

  After locking the door behind him, I went immediately to the washroom and reapplied my lipstick, and then I decided I ought to find something to do.

  I found a couple of boxes to unload and reload, rooted around in my desk drawer for a lost stapler, and then rearranged my costume jewellery in its wood and glass display case. I was just about to turn my attention to the hatpin display when the door rattled. I didn’t have to look round to know who it was, and I didn’t need to ask what it was in the carrier bag he was holding—I could smell the delicious waft as soon as he entered the shop.

  He plopped the bag down on the counter and headed straight through to the back office, flung his keys down on the desk and fetched the pink picnic hamper. I coughed before he unbuckled it, and he looked up.

  ‘Fish and chips?’ I asked, wrinkling my nose slightly.

  The smile dropped from Adam’s face. ‘You don’t want fish and chips?’

  I shook my head and clasped my hands low behind my back. ‘Actually, I have a hankering for Thai.’

  He looked at the tightly wrapped paper bundles in the carrier bag. ‘But it’s hot, and I asked for onion vinegar especially for you.’ He started to unwrap the paper and a delicious acidic waft hit the back of my nose. Saliva pooled underneath my tongue.

  I gave him my big-eyed ‘little girl’ look. ‘I really fancy Thai,’ I said, the lie sliding effortlessly through my evenly spaced teeth.

  ‘You’re sure about this?’ Adam gave the hot bundle of fish and chips a longing look. I nodded and blew him a kiss.

  There was no eager yip, as one of my ‘puppies’ might have given, but he sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. I knew he was going to do it for me—not because I’d pushed him into a corner, but because his innate sense of chivalry had kicked in. ‘Okay, Thai it is.’ He shrugged. ‘At least it’s only a few doors down.’

  I bit my lip.

  On purpose.

  ‘What?’ he said, his voice heavy.

  ‘I don’t like that restaurant any more.’ I lowered my head a little and looked at him through my lashes. ‘I like the Blue Dragon.’

  ‘But that’s the other end of town!’

  I did my coquettish little one-shouldered shrug. ‘You did say you’d get it for me …’

  He gave me a long, hard stare, and then he picked up the hamper and disappeared into the back office again. While he was gone, I pinched a couple of chips from one of the parcels, stuffed them into my mouth and then quickly rearranged the packet so it looked as if none were missing.

  My, those chips were good. Heavenly, in fact. I closed my eyes and licked the salt off my lips.

  I had to swallow quickly when I heard Adam returning, minus hamper but in possession of his car keys. Something inside me sank. This was what I’d wanted, but a part of me hadn’t wanted it to be this easy, hadn’t wanted Adam to be predictable like all the others.

  I was leaning against the cash desk, arms bracing me, and he peeled one of my hands off the shiny surface, turned its palm upwards. ‘I don’t play games and you know that,’ he said as he dropped the keys into my waiting palm. ‘If you want curry from the Blue Dragon, you’re going to have to get it yourself.’

  My skin began to prickle. Damn it. I liked this new Adam with the menacing edge to his voice too much.

  Okay, he might not have been as predictable as I’d both feared and hoped he would be, but that didn’t mean I was going to let him outmanoeuvre me. I pushed the keys against his chest and let go. He caught them on a reflex.

  ‘I’m not driving that hulking machine of yours ‘round these narrow streets,’ I said, glaring at him and stood up. ‘Fine. I’ll get my dinner myself.’

  ‘Fine,’ he said, glaring back at me.

  I didn’t really want to, but what choice did I have? I picked up my purse and stalked out of the shop and up the road to the Spice Heaven. Ten minutes later I was back, with a curry I didn’t really want.

  Adam had moved into the back room, but his chivalry thing had decreed he wait for me. A parcel of fish and chips was waiting unopened on his lap. As soon as he saw me he dived in. I set to work opening my plastic tubs and dishing rice and curry onto a pink plate.

  Adam wasn’t ‘twinkling’ so much now. He stared at his fish and chips in silence. It didn’t look appetising. But then cold fish and chips never do.

  I ate a bit of my food, and then resorted to pushing it around my plate and taking the odd nibble when I felt Adam’s eyes on me—which was more often than not, unfortunately. Coconut milk and onion vinegar definitely did not make a good taste combination. This was no comfortable silence we were enjoying. I knew he was thinking hard, trying to work out what his next move would be.

  ‘I’m off in three days,’ he said as he bit into a chip, grimaced and dropped it back into the open parcel on his lap. ‘You sure you won’t change your mind and come with me? I think you’d really enjoy it.’

  This was not just an invitation. I could tell by the wariness in his eyes that it was a test. I dabbed at the corner of my mouth with a pink paper napkin and shook my head. I needed Adam to go away on his own. This whole thing was going to be so much harder to accomplish if he didn’t.

  He put his parcel down, stood up and walked across to where I was perched on the edge of my desk.

  ‘Please don’t, Coreen.’

  I pretended not to understand. ‘I don’t do humidity,’ I said blithely, and attempted a cheeky smile. It wasn’t a good attempt. It stayed in place, but it felt as if it was only hanging there by a thread.

  Adam took the plate out of my hands and put it on the desk behind me. ‘I told you that you don’t need to be this way with me. You don’t need to be that girl with me.’

  And there, in a nutshell, was the problem. Because I really did need
to be that girl with Adam. It was the only way I could keep myself intact. So if he didn’t want me this way then maybe he shouldn’t have me at all. I raised my chin a notch.

  ‘It’s who I am, Adam. If anyone knows what I’m like, you do.’

  Liar. Coward. Those two words rang in my ears as I watched him digest what I had just said.

  A siren sounded somewhere on my desk. My phone. My current ring tone was the song ‘The Girl Can’t Help It’ from the Jayne Mansfield movie of the same name, police siren and all. I never missed my phone ringing any more, but it drove other people nuts.

  I retrieved it, grateful for an excuse not to look Adam the eye for a few seconds, but when I saw who it was calling I sent him straight to voicemail. Adam stared at me.

  ‘That was Nicholas,’ I said lightly, keeping a close watch on his reaction. ‘He’s not such an idiot after all, it seems. The plan worked. He wants me to go to dinner with him on Saturday evening.’

  Reaction-wise, I got more than I bargained for. I don’t think sound escaped Adam’s lips, but he looked as if he were snarling. ‘Coreen …’

  I slid my phone closed and smiled brightly at him. ‘Even Nicholas came to heel in the end. Just goes to show that no man is completely untrainable.’

  Except Adam.

  ‘Stop it, Coreen.’

  I don’t think my expression held quite the right level of innocence and guilelessness that I’d aimed for. Probably because everything inside me seemed four times heavier than normal. Even my face felt heavy. ‘What do you mean?’

  He turned his head. Too disgusted to look at me, I guessed. I pretty much felt the same way.

  ‘I know what you are doing.’

  And I knew that he knew. But I couldn’t stop. It was the only way to save both of us from a lifetime of heartache.

  I didn’t say anything. I’d planned to tell him I was going to accept Nicholas’s offer of dinner, but it turned out even I wasn’t despicable enough to do that. It’s nice to have a least one redeeming feature: Coreen Fraser, not quite pond scum.

  There was no point in lying any further, anyway. Adam knew Nicholas was just a diversion. He stood up, towering above me as I rested against the desk, only inches between us. Close enough to reach out and touch if I was stupid enough. Weak enough.

  Soft fingers curled around my chin and pushed it upwards until I had no choice but to look at him. That’s when the tears started to fall, running down my cheeks and trailing down my neck, each one following the track of its predecessor. Adam’s expression softened. It was as if something in his eyes had opened and I could see deep down inside him, see all the treasure I’d been half-blind to all these years. Strength. Courage. Loyalty. All the qualities I lacked.

  I knew my feelings for him were written clearly over my face, because I saw a spark of hope in his eyes. I couldn’t let it live. I tensed my jaw and the last pair of tears fell. With every ounce of my strength I arranged my features into blankness. I wound up my shutters, pushed him away without even moving. Without even breathing.

  He saw it too. And I wished he hadn’t opened those windows to let me see inside, because now I saw it all turn to ash. I saw the desolation, the rage, the pain. I knew I was breaking both his heart and mine.

  He stepped back, shell shocked, and I realised that up until that moment he’d never considered that there would be anything but a Happy Ever After for us, even if I had to be dragged into it kicking and screaming. That light, that welcoming light, the one that had always been there for me in his eyes, sputtered and disappeared.

  Something really had been murdered this weekend. And I was the one who’d killed it.

  I realised that holding all the power, having that ultimate control I had always craved, tasted nowhere near as sweet as I’d imagined it would. In fact it made me sick to my stomach.

  Now Adam’s shutters came down too. He picked up his car keys, clenched them into his fist, and gave me one last rigid look. I knew those windows would never open again. Not for me, anyway. The thought of them doing so for another girl one day almost drew a cry from my lips, but I held it back, finally getting a handle on the ‘controlling my face’ thing.

  Adam turned and walked away. Out of the shop and out of my life. I realised that somewhere in the back of my head I’d foolishly thought he’d eventually forgive me for this one day. After all, I was only being me. Vintage Coreen. He’d always forgiven me before. But as I ran to the doorway that led to the shop floor and hung on to the frame I saw him stride away down the road and realised he never would. I’d taken it too far.

  I stood there motionless, hardly breathing, my fingernails folded into my palms. It would have been a good time for the violins to play, to swell around me in melody sweet and sad and sharp enough to make hearts bleed, but I made yet another discovery: there was nothing romantic about moments like this.

  Nothing romantic at all.

  A limousine arrived to pick me up at seven on Saturday evening. It took me over the river, wove skilfully through the London traffic and deposited me at an exclusive little restaurant in the West End. I was fussed over and shown to a table, where Nicholas was waiting for me.

  He rose as I approached and kissed my hand. From anyone other than Nicholas I would have thought it was too smooth to be true, but he really was like that all charm and effortless manners.

  ‘You look stunning,’ he said as he pulled my chair out for me.

  ‘Thank you.’

  I did look good. I hadn’t worn the red dress, though. I’d chosen an Audrey Hepburn-esque little black dress and put my hair up. Nicholas liked the pared-down minx, after all, and it didn’t go to give a man the impression he had even the tiniest bit of control over what a girl did. The lipstick was crimson, of course, but I’d faltered when it had come to the shoes.

  I’d looked at the array of different styles and shades of red in the bottom of my wardrobe, had tried loads on, but discarded them all. I’d ended up nipping over to the shop and borrowing the black suede evening shoes with the bow on the front. But I was so used to wearing nothing but red on my feet that every time I looked down I had the feeling that something was wrong. They pinched my little toes as well, but what the heck?

  As you can tell, I reverted to the original plan after Adam left.

  Okay, straight after Adam left I stumbled home, ate two pints of Devilish Diva chocolate ice cream, watched three black-and-white movies back-to-back and then sobbed into my pillow until morning. But that had been five whole days ago now, and despite the fact I had repeated the process on the two following nights I had forced myself to get up and move on. Hence the plan.

  It had been a good plan, after all.

  Adam had been right—I was ready for something more serious than puppy-training. I was ready for a serious relationship. With someone like Nicholas. Someone who thought that girl was funny and sparkly and full of pizzazz. Someone who couldn’t see through the dizzying parade of polka dots, who couldn’t make them transparent with just one look.

  Only.

  As we ate the exquisite food and chatted in the candlelight I kept looking at my Perfect Man and noticing lots of silly little things.

  The fan of creases at the side of his eyes, for one. They didn’t appear often enough, and when they did they didn’t make me feel like melted marshmallow inside. The eyes were all wrong, of course. Too clear. Too blue. No cheeky little glimmers inside that dragged the corners of my mouth up, whether I liked it or not. And I just kept wanting to lean across the table and unto his top button, or muss his hair up a little. Sometimes perfection can be a little too uniform.

  I sighed. I was being picky, wasn’t I?

  Deep down, I knew why. Deep down, I tried to tell myself all about it. But somewhere nearer the surface I squished it down again—a kind of mental sticking of the fingers in one’s ears and singing ‘la-la-la’, I suppose.

  Nicholas topped my glass up with fizz that was a hundred times better than the stuff I usually got at the co
rner shop.

  ‘Coreen?’

  ‘Mm-hm?’

  ‘Is everything okay?’

  I flashed him my Marilyn smile. ‘Absolutely wonderful.’

  He glanced over his left shoulder. ‘You seem to be fascinated by something behind me. Is there something wrong with the restaurant? And you keep sighing.’

  ‘No.’ I shook my head emphatically. ‘The restaurant is lovely. I wasn’t looking at anything in particular …’ Not in these elegant surroundings, anyway. But I was hardly going to own up to the mental slide show that had been distracting me.

  Adam’s grin as he stole yet another sweet and sour pork ball.

  His face close to mine as he adjusted a pair of hideous tortoiseshell glasses.

  The look in his eyes as I sang my mum’s favourite song.

  I put those thoughts away and shuffled through the images of the previous weekend, trying to find a nice one of Nicholas—like the time when he’d congratulated me on geeing everybody up, or when he’d asked me to dance—but they were all fuzzy and out of focus.

  I let out a breath, long and slow. Nicholas’s eyebrows dipped at the edges. Maybe he’d been taking lessons from Robert. He looked down at his architecturally beautiful dessert and then up at me again.

  ‘I’m still too late, aren’t I?’

  I tried to deny it, but the words wouldn’t come. Dissolved by the fizzing bubbles of the vintage champagne, no doubt. Nicholas, gentleman that he was, said nothing further. He was charming and interesting as we finished our meal, attentive and amusing during coffee and on the limo ride home. The kiss he pressed on my cheek as we parted was decidedly platonic.

  I stood with my key in the lock and watched the limo pull away into the starlit summer night. Not once did I sigh. I felt like Cinderella in reverse. I’d gone to the ball only to wind up with the pumpkin. No, that wasn’t fair to Nicholas. He was everything I’d imagined him to be.

  It was just that he wasn’t my pumpkin, and no amount of wishing would make it otherwise.

  I held up fine until I got into the flat and ran to the kitchen, but as I opened the freezer and reached for yet another tub of Devilish Diva I paused and my fingers numbed on its frosty surface. Seemed I was going to bypass the ice cream stage and fall headlong into the sobbing stage. Gluey tears, a waterfall at the back of my nose and some rather unattractive snorting noises to follow.