The Red Shoe Chronicles : A Fantasy Romance Anthology

by N. R. Larry

  Chapter 3

  “I don’t know what I was thinking.” Allegra stood in front of the full-length mirror attached to the back of her bathroom door, nervously poking at the elaborate updo that bared her neck and shoulders. “Who invites a virtual stranger to a wedding?”

  Sandy lightly slapped her hand away and smoothed the curls back into place. She met Allegra’s eyes in the mirror, barely concealing a mischievous smile. “The same person who dances with a stranger in a secondhand store wearing magical red shoes.”

  The nerves tap-dancing a chorus line in her belly exited stage left. She lifted the hem of her dress and peered down at the shoes Glinda had insisted on gifting her with. They were a perfect match for her gown, a chiffony concoction that blended old Hollywood glamour with contemporary va-va-voom. The sleeveless bodice served her breasts up like creamy mounds of whipped cream and fell in a slinky column to reveal a thigh-high slit. She loved the flash of skin against the fire-engine red of the dress and shoes as she walked. Her stomach dipped as she imagined Reuben’s reaction.

  Sandy put her hands lightly on Allegra’s shoulders and turned her away from the mirror so they were facing each other. Her expression was now as serious as a heart attack.

  “Don’t overthink it, Al.” Her fingers flexed with the intensity of her words. “Don’t second-guess yourself. Don’t rationalize it. Don’t justify it. Don’t try to explain it. Just go with it.”

  “But—”

  Sandy whirled her back to face the mirror and said with deliberate slowness, “Reuben Birdwhistle.”

  Allegra’s insides melted, and her brain went fuzzy, flashing back to the tall, lean, dark-haired guy who’d so gallantly waltzed her around his grandmother’s consignment shop.

  “Look at your face,” came Sandy’s voice as if from far, far away.

  Allegra examined her image, noting the rosy crest along her cheekbones, the secretive, seductive tilt to her smile, and the soft happiness gleaming in her eyes.

  “Now tell me you don’t believe in magic.” Sandy sniffled and pressed her cheek carefully against Allegra’s to avoid smudging her makeup. “When you’ve been married for fifty years, you can tell your grandkids how it was love at first sight.”

  “I don’t know that I believe in magic or insta-love,” she objected.

  “Quit thinking about it,” Sandy chided. “Just go with how you feel.”

  “I feel like a princess,” Allegra admitted. “Like Cinderella and Belle and Jasmine and Princess Aurora all rolled up into one royally hot package.”

  “You look amazing. I’d say it was the dress and shoes, but you’ve got this sort of inner glow.” Sandy began tidying the mess they’d created preparing Allegra for her big night.

  “I still wish you were coming to the wedding.” Allegra retrieved her evening bag and silk shawl before inspecting her reflection one more time. “Are you nervous about meeting Howard’s parents?”

  “Nope.” A dreamy expression, much like Allegra’s when she thought of Reuben, crossed Sandy’s face. “He’s the one, Al. We’ll be engaged by Christmas. Maybe Halloween. He tends to be impatient when he wants something.”

  Giddy champagne bubbles seemed to dance and fizz in Allegra’s middle. She was so happy for her bestie. And some of the excitement was happiness for herself. Since donning Glinda’s red stilettos, something inside her seemed to have changed. The anxiety and frustration and, yes, even the desperation she’d carried since her life in Chicago imploded six months was gone. Poof! As if someone had waved a magic wand.

  She didn’t know what the future held, but she knew it would be—snicker—magic.

  “Ohmygawd. He is super hot. Super super cute.” Sandy peered between the slats of the blinds covering Allegra’s living room windows as Reuben made his way up the front walkway. “I. Am. So. Jealous.”

  Allegra laughed. “You have Howard. Engaged by Christmas. Remember?”

  “I’m still jealous,” Sandy said good-naturedly, sneaking another peek. “He’s got the nerdy millionaire look nailed! Girrrrrllllll,” she drew out the word for a mile, “just imagine him taking off those geeky glasses, tugging his bowtie loose, working the buttons on his dress shirt to reveal pecs and abs like Channing Tatum…”

  “Sandy!” Allegra’s wisp of a thong almost went up in flames as she envisioned the scenario Sandy was making up.

  “If things with Howard don’t work out, maybe Glinda has another grandson.” Sandy waggled her brows.

  A polite knock at the door put an end to Sandy’s teasing.

  “I got it.” Her friend intercepted her before Allegra could open the door. “Go strike a sexy pose or something.”

  The tap-dancing nerves were back for an encore, but Allegra immediately forgot about them the second Sandy opened the door.

  Dear Jesus, Mary, Neptune, Apollo, Hercules, Ramses, Tutankhamum. Hell, a shout-out to the whole gang!

  The man framed in her doorway was…was…she didn’t have words.

  Sandy dipped in for a quick hug, put her finger under Allegra’s chin to close her dropped-jaw appreciation of Reuben, and whispered, “Don’t think. Just feel.”

  She circled around Reuben. “Hi. I’m Sandy. Bye.” When she was behind him, she mimed squeezing his butt with both hands while mouthing the lyrics for Pony by Ginuwine, their favorite track from the Magic Mike movie.

  Allegra finally found her voice and laughed.

  “BFF?” Reuben asked, his blue eyes scorching every inch of Allegra’s exposed skin.

  “Who?” She forgot what they were talking about.

  “Sandy.”

  “Oh, her. Yeah. Since seventh grade.”

  They stood staring at each other.

  “You look—” They echoed the words together, humor finally breaking the trance.

  “I was a little worried when I said the wedding was black tie,” she admitted, letting the red stilettos carry her across the foyer. “Short notice for a guy if he doesn’t already own a tux.”

  “Balani’s,” he said, naming a well-known clothier.

  Her brows went up. Balani’s wasn’t an off-the-rack kind of place.

  “What did you say you do for a living?” she asked.

  “The conversation never got that far.” He didn’t move, seemingly content to let her control the moment.

  “We have a lot to learn about each other,” she said, holding her breath at the risky nature of the statement. It hinted at a future beyond Muffy Dandridge’s wedding. Something more than volunteering to stand-in one time as her date.

  “No time like the present.”

  She stepped closer. When they inhaled simultaneously, ribcages expanding together, the tips of her breasts pressed against his chest.

  Reuben cupped her face in his hands, hers tilted up, his tilted down.

  “Can I kiss you or will it ruin your lipstick?”

  She raised her evening bag, which was looped around her wrist, eyes never straying from his. “I have an extra tube. Just in case.”

  With infinite care, Reuben plundered her mouth. Lips pressed together, he swept his tongue deep to savor her taste. It was like fucking in a china shop. Raw, frantic, needy, yet carefully controlled so as not to shatter a single fragile breakable.

  When he finally pulled away, both of them breathing heavily, Dior Rouge 999 smudged his lips.

  “We’ve moving fast,” Allegra gasped.

  A frown marred the smooth perfection of Reuben’s forehead. “I can slow down.”

  Feel. Don’t think. She remembered Sandy’s advice.

  “Gas pedal is the one on the right.” She curved her hand around the back of his neck and pulled him in for a second, even more heated kiss.

  Chapter 4

  They were an hour late for the wedding, having moved from the foyer to Allegra’s couch where they made out like horny teenagers. Her updo was now a downdo, which Reuben much preferred. The carefree jumble of curls contrasted with the provocative dress and fuck-me pumps, making him wa
nt to explore the contradictory layers behind the façade she presented to the world.

  A façade that shifted the second they walked into the private country club where the reception was being held.

  “Is there something going on here I need to know about?” he asked, hooking his arm a bit tighter around her.

  “Hmm?” Her eyes scanned the room, not with eager anticipation but sharp-edged wariness.

  “Allegra.” Speaking her name caught her attention. “What’s wrong? You tensed up as soon as we walked in. Your pulse is racing, and your face is ash-gray.”

  Before she could answer, the bride trotted toward them, dragging her new husband behind her.

  “Allegra Ambra!” There was no missing the artificial warmth in the woman’s saccharine-sweet screech. “I didn’t think you were coming. Not that anyone would blame you.”

  “I wouldn’t miss your special day for anything, Muffy.” Allegra’s body was rigid alongside Reuben.

  “Love that dress. Which designer is it a knockoff of?” Muffy tossed her platinum-blond ringlets, not bother to hide the maliciousness in her tone. “And I see you even managed to find a—”

  As Muffy’s spider-lashed eyes slid left, recognition cut off her words as efficiently as a knife.

  “Ben Birdwhistle? How the hell are you, man?” Muffy’s husband hip-checked her out of the way and shoved a hand toward Reuben. “I’ve been trying to set up an appointment to talk contracts, but I can’t get past that assistant of yours.”

  “Congratulations, Bill.” He ignored the man’s blatant bid for a business meeting. “I didn’t realize whose wedding we were attending.” He leaned in as if confiding a secret. “To be honest, I’m not even sure what day it is. Since meeting Allegra, nothing else seems to matter. Bet it’s like that for you and Buffy, right?”

  Blinking, not sure if he’d been insulted or not, Bill guffawed and hooked his arm through Muffy’s. “Can’t wait to whisk the old ball-and-chain off for our honeymoon.” He pumped his hips for added emphasis. “How about eighteen holes when I get back? We can mix a little business and pleasure.”

  “Looks like you two were made for each other. Have fun on that honeymoon.” Reuben flashed another smile, then steered Allegra away.

  He checked their seating assignments and discovered they’d been relegated to a table at the far end of the room. All of the seats were vacant, which suited Reuben just fine.

  He pulled out a chair for Allegra and gestured to one of the servers. Slipping the man a generous tip, he arranged for a bottle of champagne and canapes.

  “Having met the bride and groom, I understand your reaction.” He pulled his chair closer to Allegra. “How do you know Muffy and Bill?”

  She lifted a brow. “You called her Buffy back there.”

  “Caught that, did you?” He smiled tightly. “I don’t like snobs, and I don’t like being used. I approached Bill’s partner with a business proposal two years ago when I was trying to get my tech company off the ground. Like Bill, I couldn’t get a meeting. Now that AI-AI-O is doing well, all those people who wouldn’t give me the time of day now want a piece of the action.”

  “Wait.” She moved to the edge of her chair. “You’re the guy behind Automated Information Artificial Intelligence Operations?”

  “You’ve heard of it?”

  “I used to work for Manley Advertising. Out of their Chicago office. My ex-boyfriend stabbed me in the back to get assigned to the AI-AI-O account. I was fired from a six-figure job, found out he was cheating on me, and ended up moving from a high-rise apartment overlooking Lake Michigan to my $900-a-month duplex.”

  “So, you’re in advertising?” He leaned back and crossed his arms. His cock stiffened when he caught her appreciative look at the pull of his jacket across his shoulders. He resisted the impulse to flex.

  “And you’re a technology entrepreneur.”

  “Gram calls me a self-made geekillionaire.”

  “I thought you were the stock guy at her consignment shop.” She gave a self-conscious laugh.

  Something in the center of his chest tightened along with his groin. She clearly didn’t realize the significance of her admission.

  “What would Muffy have said if you showed up at her society wedding with a stock boy?”

  Allegra’s eyes widened, then narrowed. “Do you think that’s why I invited you? To thumb my nose at her by showing up with a…a decent guy willing to work hard and take pride in his job, no matter what it was?”

  She launched herself out of her chair so forcefully it tipped over. “I’m not a rich bitch, Reuben. I was raised by a single mother who struggled with a meth addiction her entire life. The only reason I know Muffy and her crowd is because I received a scholarship to attend the private academy her parents paid for.”

  Reuben tried to ignore the rise and fall of her plump cleavage and the fiery sparks shooting from her eyes. He’d thought she was gorgeous in her red-checked sundress and his grandmother’s magic stilettos, but dear God, she’d transformed into a goddess. The silky fabric barely clung to her breasts while her fierce stance pulled the slit open, revealing long, strong legs, red heels firmly planted on the tiled floor. With her hair falling in loose waves and her red lips puckered in dismay, he had only one option.

  Circling her wrist gently, he pulled her into his lap. She squawked in surprise, arms flailing. He huffed in pain-pleasure as the round curve of her ass made contact with his cock.

  “You misunderstand,” he told her, nuzzling the satiny skin behind her ear. “You risked being ridiculed by bringing a simple stock boy to one of the biggest weddings of the season. My job, my income, my title—none of that mattered to you.”

  “None of those things should matter,” she sighed, head tilted back as she gave in to the pleasure of his tongue and mouth.

  Something, some critical realization, niggled at the back of his mind, distracting him from his sensual ministrations. He pulled back, examined her face, and it clicked.

  “You say that, but you don’t believe it.”

  The glazed look in her eyes vanished, and she shifted on his lap. “You don’t know me well enough to—”

  “Babe, why did you come to Muffy’s wedding when you both clearly dislike each other?” Before she could respond, he answered for her. “You came to prove a point.”

  She sucked in a breath.

  “How long have you been trying to convince Muffy Dandridge and her kind of your worth?”

  Her eyes welled, and tears, like so many precious diamonds, spilled down her cheeks.

  “Since the day you started at that private academy, right?” He thumbed away the wetness. “Allegra, I hear you say money isn’t the measure of a person, yet you worked your tail off for a fancy apartment and fat paycheck. Did you do those things for yourself or for people like Bill and Muffy?”

  His heart broke a little as awareness sunk in and her face creased with pain.

  “The only person you’ve been judging is yourself.” He brushed his lips over hers, wanting to offer consolation but the jerk of his erection revealed his motives weren’t entirely selfless. “Ready to leave? I can think of a hundred places I’d much rather be than Muffy and Bill’s wedding.”

  She gave him a wobbly smile despite the anguish still darkening her eyes. “Anyplace is better than here.”

  “Yes, but I have someplace special in mind.” In one smooth move, he stood and caught Allegra up in his arms. She clung to his neck, her sexy legs and magic stilettos dangling over one arm.

  “Where are you taking me, Reuben?” She licked a trail down his jawline, not caring one whit—okay, she did care and a whole lot more than one whit—about the scene their dramatic exit was making. All eyes were on them instead of Muffy and Bill, who were shuffling around the dance floor.

  “I’m your one-way ticket to paradise, babe.”

  The room, the music and clink of cutlery on dishes, the finely dressed wedding guests, Muffy and Bill…everything faded away
as he fell, fell, fell into Allegra’s glittering amber eyes.

  “Choo, choo!” She kicked her feet in delight, those shimmery red stilettos working the most wonderful kind of magic.

  Chapter 5

  “Your place or mine?”

  Reuben’s hand glided over the tender inner flesh of Allegra’s thigh, causing her to shift in the buttery-soft leather seat of his Porsche 911. Her impulse was to press her knees together except his touch promised rich rewards if she opened herself up to him.

  “Whichever is closer.” She shimmied to loosen the tight fit of her dress and parted her legs.

  His fingertips brushed lightly over her soaked panties, and he pressed on the accelerator. The sportscar’s powerful engine gave a throaty purr of approval. “My place. Ten minutes, tops.”

  He skillfully navigated the streets through Philly’s Center City, arriving six minutes later at a waterfront warehouse that had been converted into upscale condos on the Delaware River near the Ben Franklin Bridge. He whisked her from the underground parking area to a private elevator up to the penthouse.

  She caught quick impressions of old red brick, polished hardwood floors, and expansive floor to ceiling windows filled with the dark night sky as Reuben once again scooped her up in his arms and kicked open the door to his place. Not bothering to flip on lights, he navigated through the dark to his bedroom, carefully settling her into the softness of pillows and luxurious bedding.

  She leaned up on her elbows, the moonlight providing sufficient illumination to watch him toe off his shoes, shrug out of his jacket, undo his bowtie, and—exactly as Sandy had described—remove his black nerdy glasses.

  He bounced onto the bed, landing on his knees at her feet. On hands and knees, he crawled between her legs, nudging the beautiful red dress out of the way. He pressed his forehead against her mons and inhaled.

  “Too fast?” His baritone rumbled through her pelvis, ratcheting up her hunger.