AllFreeNovel
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My only vice, if you can call it that, is reading. And I thank the New York City public library system every day for making that addiction budget friendly.
‘Those shoes look lovely on you.’ Susan leans back, assessing me as I return. ‘You have such pretty ankles.’
I’m not sure what makes ankles pretty, but I thank her all the same.
Once seated, I reach for the platforms, which are heavy in my hands. How I’m going to be able to walk in these, even if it’s just a few feet down an aisle, I don’t know.
At least my promotion came with excellent healthcare benefits in case I break one of said pretty ankles.
‘No, no.’ Susan pushes the remaining platform on the floor away with her shoe. ‘Now that I see them, they’re all wrong for you. Too clunky.’
I wince as the expensive silk shoe slides across the carpet.
She hands me the box in her hands. ‘Try these.’
Once more, the shoes are baby blue. But these… these are lovely.
At first glance they don’t seem anything special, but the heel, the shortest of the three, is thin and delicate. And a large bow, which might seem ostentatious, lays flat and at an angle across the closed and pointed toe.
‘I wish they were black.’ No, I take that back. If they did come in black, I’d be hard-pressed to talk myself out of buying them. Because I could wear these with everything. Dresses, suits, pants. I check the label – Stuart Weitzman. Expensive, but well-crafted. With my employee discount maybe it would be worth the price… if they came in a more practical and versatile color.
I slip them on slowly, nervous they won’t fit. But they do, and I can’t help but turn my feet this way and that when I stand in front of the mirror.
‘You like those.’
I can hear the smile in Susan’s voice.
‘And they do come in black.’
My head pops up from my admiration. ‘They do?’
Walking a few steps away from our chaos of shoes and boxes, Susan returns with the shoe in black. And in red.
I’ve never owned a pair of bow shoes, let alone red shoes. Growing up in foster care, you got hand-me-down sneakers and functional, thick-soled Mary Janes in case the foster home you were placed in went to church on Sundays.
Ten years have passed since I aged-out, but frugality and functionality have been too well-ingrained. Especially when you have people depending on you.
‘Get them.’
I freeze, my hand outstretched toward Susan, the deep baritone popping goosebumps down my arms. Dropping my hand, I turn, coming face-to-face with Thomas Moore.
3
THOMAS
Alice’s stare is unnerving. It always is when she looks at me.
‘Do you like them?’ Bell asks her, sauntering up wearing a pair of bright pink Louboutins that clash horribly with her burnt orange blouse.
‘What?’ Alice wrenches her eyes from mine. ‘Like who?’
Frowning, Bell’s eyes ping-pong between us. Settling on Alice, she points to light blue pumps adorned with asymmetrically placed bows. ‘The shoes? Do you like the shoes?’
‘Oh.’ Alice’s cheeks flush before she turns her back to me, removing the shoes she was just salivating over and grabbing a pair of blue sandals off the carpet. ‘Here.’ She holds them out to Susan. ‘I pick these.’ Then hustles off through the shoe displays without a goodbye.
Before anyone can say anything, Chase comes running up, Mike in hand. ‘Babe.’
‘Don’t call me babe at work.’ In her new shoes Bell only has to tip her chin to kiss Chase’s cheek. ‘And what happened to you?’
