Wendy Etherington - If the Stiletto Fits...

“Especially Mother.”

“But entertaining. The night I met them at that party, and your mother and her friend reenacted the entire final scene of a play they did ten years ago? Amazing. She was obviously born to her craft.”

He liked talking with Teresa. They were friends, and their relationship was comfortable. With his parents’ volatile marriage as his first impression of lifetime commitment, he’d figured out really early that was not what he wanted for himself. He didn’t need impulsiveness and all-consuming passion. Flames like that burned out—or burned each other up. He’d seen it happen over and over again among his parents’ friends.

Before he could respond to Teresa, someone called his name.

He turned to see his good friend and lawyer, Dalton Roberts, approaching their table with a slinky blonde clinging to his arm.

Dalton had moved to Manhattan from South Carolina several years ago after his law practice had fallen apart. His partner and his wife had had an affair that devastated him, so now he was a confirmed bachelor and play-the-field guy.

Actually, he and Lily were very alike. If James didn’t have a strict aversion to playing matchmaker with friends and business associates—between anybody, really—he’d encourage them to go out.

He rose and introduced his buddy to Teresa, then was introduced to Dalton’s date, Cindy. James appreciated Teresa’s ability to send the new woman a welcoming smile and stare into her eyes rather than at her chest. Dalton tended to go for flash over substance in choosing women, but Cindy and her well-endowed figure was a new, uh…high.

The waitress appeared to offer the new guests drinks, and James encouraged them to hang out until their own table was ready. With his longish blond hair and quick smile, Dalton was “dreamy” and easy to talk to, according to the female population. Teresa might as well meet his friends.

“So, how’s business?” Dalton asked James.

“Good. Spring is a big season for us.” Actually, he’d told Dalton he’d get him near-the-front seats for the Spectacular—he was sure his friend would enjoy checking out the models—but he didn’t want to say so in front of Cindy. He expected his buddy would want to come solo.

Dalton took a sip of the whiskey the waitress brought, then grinned. “Any woman who showed up at my door wearing those high-assed shoes I saw in that ad on Fifth…Whoa, baby.”

The ad was provocative—showing a woman from behind, wearing no top as she smiled teasingly over her shoulder and dressed in a short, black skirt, fish-nets and a pair of Lily’s red stilettos.

Cindy leaned forward, and James feared they all might get to know her a little too familiarly if she made that motion then drew a deep breath. “You’re the one who works for Lily Reaves?”

She said Lily’s name with the same breathy quality he’d witnessed in countless women the last several months. Women apparently worshiped shoes with the same fervor as men worshiped sports. Or women.

“She makes the most amazing shoes,” Cindy continued. “I’ve got on a pair now, in fact.” She lifted her leg above the table, obviously intending to show everyone, but Dalton tamped her down.

James exchanged a look with Teresa, who grinned at him and shrugged. Their quiet dinner was turning into a sideshow, with Lily being the topic of conversation. Gracious didn’t even begin to cover the woman’s positive qualities.

Yep, she’d fit into his plans perfectly.

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