The Red Shoe Chronicles : A Fantasy Romance Anthology

by N. R. Larry

  Chapter 4

  Chloe pulled into the double drive of the murder house on Dunker Street. She mumbled to herself, “It doesn’t look creepy.” After getting out of her car and eyeing the outside of the home, a truck pulled up next to her. Seeing it was a guy, she felt a little uneasy. While getting her license, she had several agents warn her about trusting her gut. Red Door itself had a code word in place too. And no one, even the most seasoned agents, could show any listing alone after dark. Jeff being caught in a lie, a big one, was not helping Chloe feel too trustful of anyone, let alone men.

  She watched the guy, around her age she thought, take a white sign out of his truck, along with a large mallet.

  “Hey.”

  “Hey.” She offered nothing else, just kept watching him.

  He proceeded to hammer the bright white sign into the brown grass, a few leaves crunched under his feet. The sign read: “White Bay Reality.”

  “Son of a bitch!” Chloe meant to only say it in her head.

  “Pardon?” The guy started walking over to her, a smirk on his face. She had time to run away, but since the only option was to run into the murder house, she stayed. Standing right in front of her, he said, “Don’t like my sign?”

  “It’s a very nice sign. But I think my sign is better.”

  “It is a nice sign. But it is on the wrong side of the lot. My sign is on the good side. The non-murder side.”

  “As of this morning, I assumed your side was occupied, or so my file says.”

  “It was occupied till recently. They were witnesses and part of the trial. They moved now that it is all over. Ya, know, a new start and all.”

  “Humph.” She firmly folded her arms across her chest.

  “You seem to be unhappy…. miss?”

  “Chloe Simmons, Red Door Reality.” She stuck her hand out, and he shook it, firm. Her heart fluttered a little. A real handshake from a guy, finally some respect. Maybe the fact he looked about her age had something to do with it.

  “Well, Miss Simmons, nice to meet you. I am Brock Mueller, of White Bay Reality.” He handed her his card, she snapped it out of his hand. “Ok, then.” He must have sensed her distaste as he walked away without another word.

  Chloe got back in her car and drove away, Brock raising his hand to wave her goodbye.

  A block away, she called herself every name in the book for just running away. She didn’t even go in the house. And tomorrow she has an open house, her first open house, for a house she hasn’t even seen the inside of yet. Instead of continuing to berate herself, she called up Winnie.

  “Winnie can you meet me for coffee?”

  “Yep, where are you?”

  “Mid-town, I’ll text you the address of a coffee shop I remember passing.”

  Chapter 5

  Winnie, true to form, barged into the front doors of the coffee shop and found her best friend sitting at a little round table.

  “Winnie, thank-you for coming.” Chloe rose off her seat to kiss her friend on the cheek.

  “What would you do if I was employed and couldn’t come running when you called?” Both ladies started laughing. Winnie has never had a job, has never needed a job, and never would. “So what’s the scoop? Is it Jeff? You talk to him yet?”

  “No, no, no, I haven’t. Honestly, I feel ok with it, but I can’t go on living with him either. I have other things to deal with first.”

  Over iced coffees, Chloe learned she disappointed Winnie. Not only did she not run away from the murder house, she ran away from Brock.

  “Was he ugly or something?”

  “No, the opposite, he’s attractive, maybe dressed a little frumpy, like a college professor or something.”

  “That could just be for work.”

  “Possibly.”

  “Hey, I know what will cheer you up.”

  Chloe’s voice held no urgency at all when she asked, “and what do I need?”

  “New shoes.” Winnie pointed to a shoe shop across the street. “While we are in mid-town, we might as well do a little shopping.”

  “Winnie…”

  “Nope, don’t even say it. My treat. Let’s go get you some shoes.” Winnie sipped the last of coffee drink and bolted out of her seat. Chloe reluctantly followed her friend out of the coffee shop.

  Inside the shoe shop, Chloe found herself in a drastically distinct atmosphere compared to the noises of the coffee shop. In here the lights were soft and a pink glow filled the shop. It was unlike any shoe store she had ever been in.

  “Chloe, these heels are exquisite.” Winnie gasped and ran her fingers along the gold trimmed shelves.

  “There aren’t any prices on these Winnie.”

  “I said, my treat.” She took a hand and patted her purse.

  “I know, but….” An older woman with perfectly coiffed hair interrupted Chloe.

  “Welcome to Clara Dean’s Boutique. What can I help you two ladies with?”

  Chloe tried to say they were just looking. But Winnie piped up. “Hi, this is my friend Chloe. She has a brand spanking new career and will soon jump back into the single life. Here’s my credit card.”

  “Winnie.” Chloe pulled her cardigan tighter around her middle.

  “Now, you shush, let this nice lady help you. I’m eyeing those bags over there.” Winnie stepped away and headed towards the handbags sitting in brightly lit cubbies.

  “What size are you, miss? A seven?”

  “Yes, a seven. Seven and a half if the heel is really high.”

  “Yes, of course. Your friend is being very sweet to treat you today. We’ll have you smiling and happy in jiff. But first I need to know what’s got a pretty girl like you all down in the dumps.”

  Chloe opened her mouth like the kitchen tap. It just poured out of her. By the end of the conversation, the older woman had Chloe in tears, but not without some advice on resolving some matters.

  “You can turn things around.”

  “I can?”

  “Yes, you just need to get some confidence back. Next thing you know you’ll sell that house and get rid of that loser boyfriend.”

  “You make it sound so easy.”

  “Hold on, I’m going to go grab you a few size sevens. Sit tight.” The saleswoman exited the shop through a white swinging door.

  Winnie came striding over, a leather handbag in hand. “Well, where are the shoes?”

  “She is fetching them now.”

  “Look, at this bag, I don’t need it, but it is beautiful. Feel this baby.”

  Chloe ran her fingers across the buttery soft leather and felt her stomach sour when she realized it would probably cost her a whole commission. But for Winnie and her trust fund, it was pocket change.

  “Here we go, ladies.” The woman sat three boxes of shoes in front of Chloe and Winnie. “Now these are my favorite.” She held open a black shiny box and pulled back the pink tissue paper. The tissue paper revealed a stunning pair of black leather sky-high heels.

  “Oh my, they are lovely, ma’am, don’t get me wrong, but they probably aren’t practical for my open house.”

  “True, but beautiful for a date night?”

  “Yes, but….”

  The next box the sales woman opened held an adorable pair of chunky heels. In red satin.

  Chloe’s eyes widened. “Those. May I try them on?”

  “Of course.”

  When Chloe slid on the shoes, she was amazed by how wonderful they felt. Like they were made for her.

  Winnie exclaimed how lovely they were and recommended Chloe be brave and try to wear brightly colored shoes more often.

  “I love them but red, red is kind of flashy.” She handed Winnie the shoes and slipped back into her black, boring, flats.

  “Well yes, flashy, but they are also fun and sexy.” The sales woman nodded as Winnie tried to convince her friend to just take the shoes. “She’ll take them and here add this, please.” Winnie handed the woman her new prize to ring up with the shoes.r />
  Chapter 6

  The chic black shoe box sat on her dresser. She opened the box and admired the beautiful red pumps. She still hadn’t been privy to the price. Now, on the morning of her open house, she put those red shoes on. Chloe was as quiet as a church mouse as to not wake up Jeff, when she slid the closet door open to pick out a pencil skirt and a button down blouse, in red. She felt sick to her stomach knowing she had lain next to someone who made her ill. Or could she be feeling sick out of nerves on her first proper day of work? It was a soft open house, but it was still an open house… at the murder house. Then there was the fact she was still too much of a coward to confront Jeff. It could be several things.

  She bolted to the bathroom.

  On her knees, she hugged the toilet bowl.

  Jeff hit his knuckles on the bathroom door. “Babe? You ok?”

  “Fucker, not like he cares.”

  “What? You ok?” His hand turned the knob.

  “It’s ok, I’m ok. Just something I ate. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  “Well, if you are fine, then hurry up. Some of us have a job they need to get to.”

  Chloe pulled herself up and in front of the mirror she saw her sleep deprived face. She took a piece of toilet tissue and touched up the mascara around her eyes.

  “Babe?”

  With a toothbrush in her mouth, she couldn’t yell. She opened the door a crack and pointed at her toothbrush. He said nothing, and she shut the door in his face.

  A few minutes later, she stepped out. “Your turn.”

  “What took you so long? And why are you all dressed up?” Before she could even answer he went into their bathroom and like she had just done to him, he shut the door in her face.

  She wanted to sit and cry. Just crawl back into bed till she had the nerve to confront him. But she couldn’t. And she wouldn’t. Today was going to be a big day for her, and Jeff would not ruin it.

  Susanne was all smiles when Chloe stopped at the office to get some fliers of the house.

  “Now don’t expect a sale today, young lady.”

  Chloe knew what Susanne was getting at, but she still needed to let people know she was serious about selling this. “I know, but since there are going to be people in the neighborhood today looking at the good side, I can hopefully get them to look at my side. The cheaper side.”

  “Sounds like a plan. See how the weekend goes and then next weekend we will see if we need to line up the stagers for you. Now take your folder and get going.”

  “Thank-you, Susanne.”

  Chloe heard her phone go off on the way to her car. Gwen texted saying she would try to stop by later in the day, call if she needed her. She texted a thank-you and a see you later. While she had her phone out, she sent Jeff a text.

  Chloe: Please be home by 6:00 I will be there. Need to talk.

  Jeff: I’ll try

  Her phone wasn’t even in her purse for two seconds when she got a text, again. She knew it was Jeff and waited till she got into her car to look.

  Once again Jeff had taken priority in her mind over the excitement, she should be feeling, for her first actual day of her new career. Sitting in her car, she thought, long and hard. She realized this wasn’t new behavior for Jeff. She never said how Jeff really acted because when her friends did see him in a social gathering, like a wedding or a dinner party, he acted like the best boyfriend in the world. He oozed charm when he needed to. It would drip off him and people, especially women, would swarm. Years ago, she was one of those women. Whoever he says he works late with is now one of those women. She put the key in the ignition and pressed her new red shoe on the gas pedal.

  Chloe turned onto Dunker Street and saw Brock tying balloons to his sign.

  “Son of a bitch!” Her knuckles turned white on the steering wheel. Since she needed to park down the street today, she had time to get herself psyched. Her new red shoes carried her to the duplex where Brock stood in the shared driveway, waiting for her.

  “Good morning, Chloe.” He remembered her name.

  “Brock.” She was just going to go into her duplex, but something stopped her. “Brock, can I come in and see your listing?”

  “Sure.” He opened the door and stood to the side to let her enter. “This isn’t a trick, is it? You aren’t going to turn this into a murder house too, are you?”

  “No. I just wondered what it looked like... pretty normal.” According to the pictures in her file, this part of the duplex had everything her murder house lacked. The open house was in a few hours, an unadvertised open house, but she was bound to have a few lookers to give her practice for next week.

  Brock followed her from room to room. She complimented him on his staging.

  “Yea, I have a great team. You know, if this place sells this weekend and I need to empty it out, I could just have the stagers move it next door and bill you for it.”

  “I would have to ask Gwen if that is acceptable. But who knows I might sell my side today without staging.” She looked down and saw the toes of her new red shoes were toe to toe with his black wingtips. His shoes were the only stylish thing about him. Maybe, like her, he was playing dress-up.

  “Is something wrong with my shoes?” He looked down to see what she was staring at.

  “No, no... um…” Something came over her. She grabbed the lapels of his blazer and drew him to her. Chloe assaulted this man in front of her with her full mouth. And he kissed back.

  “Wait.” He pulled away but his telling her to wait was in a soft, breathless tone.

  “Do you really want me to stop?” Chloe reached up to her blouse and undid the buttons of her blouse, revealing her pink lace push-up bra. “Touch me.”

  Chloe was warm all over; electricity ran through her limbs when Brock traced his fingers across the top of her breast. She kissed him again, this total stranger, and all she could think of was how long it had been since Jeff touched her. Let alone how long had it been since he had touched her like this.

  Brock was hard up against her thigh. She pushed harder in order to let him know she wasn’t teasing him. She wanted this and she would see it through. When they pulled their lips away from one another to take in a breath, she saw the look of bewilderment on his face. She heard of one-night stands, and Winnie had definitely slept with men she never even knew the names of. But Chloe wasn’t like that. So why was she like this now? And today of all days?

  “Fuck me.” Chloe’s voice was deep and sultry as she spoke in Brock’s ear.

  Brock pulled his cock out of his pants and lifted Chloe by her ass. On the edge of the kitchen counter, she braced herself while holding on to Brock with her other arm. He slid his hand between her legs and rubbed the material of her thong before sliding it out of the way. He thrust into her until she cried out.

  “Harder Brock.” She howled his name and threw her head back, and he took his cock out as far as he could and let her have it again by ramming her. Her back was smarting because of his thrusting, but it is what she asked for and she couldn’t help but tighten around his cock when she came. She tried to cover his mouth with hers when he tried to speak.

  “Fuck, Chloe, oh, my God, I need to cum.”

  “Yes, yes.” She wrapped her legs tighter around his waist, only him holding her up now, and sharp jerks shook both their bodies when he came inside her.

  Brock reached for the counter to hold his self up when Chloe dislodge herself from his body. He tried to catch his breath while she straightened herself up. She pulled at her blouse and shimmied her skirt back down to its proper place.

  “What the fuck was that?”

  “A little pre-open-house fuck from what I can tell.” Chloe patted the rival real estate agent on his bright red cheek and started for the door of the duplex.

  “Good luck today.” Brock was tucking his shirt in and adjusting his belt.

  “You too.” And with that, Chloe was out of Brock’s sight.

  Chapter 7

  Chloe turned t
he key to the murder house’s front door. To her shock and awe, the big bare duplex was full of furniture and art. Natural light poured in the windows. On the counter there sat a vase of flowers. Eager to know if the flowers gave any hint who she could thank for all this, Chloe snatched the card out of its little envelope.

  “You can do this, Susanne and Gwen”

  Chloe, still on an emotional and physical high, started to tear up. She couldn’t believe the support her new job was showing her. She didn’t even know everyone’s names yet, or quite know who was a rival and who was a partner. Yet, here was a whole listing staged and ready to go. Maybe Gwen had a bit of a guilty conscious of giving the newest agent the hardest listing. Either way, she was grateful and would not waste the opportunity.

  Taking her phone out of her bag, she started walking around and took the best pictures she could. Within a few minutes, Chloe uploaded pictures to all her social media accounts and forwarded everything to the girls, who then uploaded wherever they could. Between plastering the pop-up open house everywhere online, she was also going to piggy back off Brock. Why not? She already rode his front.

  Even though the weather was getting cooler by the day, Chloe propped open the front door. With this action, she hoped it would tempt people to just walk into her half of the duplex and not Brock’s. The price tag alone should make this home the better choice.

  “Welcome, welcome. Here’s the listing, feel free to look around and let me know if you have any questions.” Chloe felt like a robot after a few hours of saying the same thing over and over. But she was right, people were looking at both locations and loving her price.

  But then inevitably, usually the husband would pipe up and say, “Isn’t this the house where that guy….” and Chloe would have to say yes, because it was the law. And then try to convince them the problem laid with the man convicted, not the house itself.