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If The Shoe Fits
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If The Shoe Fits, Copyright 2013 Judi Fennell
Published by Mergenie Books
Cover design and Interior/Digital Layout by www.formatting4U.com
Smashwords Edition, License Notes:
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission or in writing from the author, Judi Fennell. This book is a work of fiction. The characters, events, and places portrayed in this book are products of the author’s imagination and are either fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
For more information on the author and her works, please see www.JudiFennell.com
ISBN: 978-0-9854534-5-9
For my children
It’s always for my children.
Table of Contents
Once Upon A Time
About The Author and Other Books
Beauty and The Best, preview of another Once-Upon-A-Time Romance
Once upon a time…
a long time ago
in a land far, far away,
there lived a girl by the name of Cinderella.
This is not her story.
This is the story of Lucinda Isabella Casteleoni,
who, like her namesake,
has a wicked stepmother, two tacky stepsisters,
and countless hours of hard work to (not) look forward to.
But unlike that fairy tale princess,
Bella’s Prince Charming is nowhere to be found.
Until a little old man with sparkling green eyes
opens a shoe store down the street.
Then the magic begins...
Chapter One
Where was a fairy godmother when she needed one?
Bella Casteleoni gripped the railing on the steps outside the law office. Her stepmother was not going to send her little sister to boarding school if Bella had anything to say about it. Unfortunately however, the language she needed to speak was Cash since a custody battle required lots of it. And while Bella had been saving for one, she hadn’t counted on it happening just yet. But Madeleine’s latest threats had upped the stakes.
That witch had been using Sophia—as well as the family business—as a pawn for years. And now the woman wasn’t just threatening to sell off the family restaurant, but to also send the fourth-grader away merely because, in the months since Dad’s death, she’d found single parenthood counterproductive to the life she’d become accustomed to since marrying their father.
Bella would show her counterproductive…
She picked up her pace, her pumps clicking on the stone steps. If only she’d won that contract to cater the hospital charity auction dinner, she’d have a good chunk of her arsenal. But she hadn’t. Which meant she’d have to find some other way to knock Madeleine’s feet out from under her.
Like the dove that flew in her face did to her…
Bella missed the next step, stumbled down the last one, and found her skirt ripped up the middle when she landed butt-first on the pavement with one of her pumps flying off to God-knew-where.
Two seconds later, something—make that someone—ended up sprawled across her lap.
“Ooomph!”
A very large, very male someone.
Bella groaned as the big hunk of maleness hefted himself off her and got to his feet while she yanked the torn edges of her skirt together. Great. Add mending to her To-Do list. As if she needed more on it.
A hand appeared in front of her. “Here, I’m sorry. Let me help you up.” The deep, husky voice resonated down her spine.
She looked up. Standing above her with broadly sculpted shoulders outlined against the afternoon sky, was one of the most gorgeous men she’d ever seen. Coffee-colored eyes, perfectly molded lips, sleek mahogany hair that showed just a hint of wave as it blew in the afternoon breeze, and those cheekbones. Good Lord. This guy could’ve been the model for Michelangelo’s David, but with a much stronger jaw line.
And clothing.
“Miss? Are you okay?”
“Um, yes. I think I am. Are you?”
“Yeah, I’m good.”
He certainly was.
Praying her blush didn’t give away her thoughts, Bella looked around and spied her shoe on the next section of sidewalk. “Great,” she muttered, taking the proffered hand.
“I said I was sorry.”
At five-six, Bella wasn’t exactly short, but he dwarfed her by a good eight inches. Tall, dark, and handsome. Like something from a fairy tale. Too bad she’d stopped believing in those ten years ago when a drunk driver had killed her mother and put Dad in a wheelchair, and the downward spiral of depression that had led to her and Sophia’s current situation had begun.
No. She couldn’t go there. Fighting Madeleine was going to take every bit of strength she had. And some she didn’t.
This guy looked to have strength to spare.
She shook her head. Bad idea. There was no reason to drag someone else into her mess.
Speaking of mess… She brushed away a strand of blonde hair that had escaped the ponytail she’d scraped it into earlier. “I wasn’t talking about you. My shoe.” She nodded toward it.
“Oh. Hang on, I’ll get it for you.” Tall, Dark, and Handsome crossed the three feet of concrete with the grace and speed of an athlete. Filled out those slacks pretty nicely, too.
Bella bit back a smile. Good to know Madeleine and her machinations hadn’t sucked all the beauty from her world.
Then he rocked it with one hell of a sexy smile when he returned with her shoe.
Tall, Dark, and Potent.
Bella teetered on her one pump as she tried to put the other back on, the teetering having more to do with balancing on one thin heel than his potency. At least, that’s what she told herself.
The hand he put on her waist to steady her, however, made her a liar.
“Here, let me,” he said, slipping the shoe from her suddenly boneless fingers, then sinking to one knee and slipping it on her foot.
Charming, too. Prince Charming, maybe?
As his light blue dress shirt stretched across those strong shoulders and the unbuttoned collar gapped open to reveal a strong, corded neck, she took a deep breath. If only he really were Prince Charming…
She glanced heavenward with a silent plea, only to have to duck as the dove circled back around and nearly poked her in the eye with a wing as it headed toward one of the ornamental cherry trees lining the sidewalk.
Prince Charming stood and put his hands on his hips. “There. Shoe’s in place. How ‘bout everything else?”
“Everything else?”
His eyes skimmed her body. “Yeah. Anything else broken? Missing?”
“Well, if you don’t count the skirt, I guess I’m in good shape.”
He quirked his eyebrows and she blushed at the double entendre she hadn’t intended. Oh, God. He thought she was flirting with him.
She so wasn’t. She didn’t have time to flirt now, much less date, Prince Charming or not. Sophia’s fifth grade year started in a few months and Bella had to ensure that her sister stayed in that school. With all she
needed to accomplish in such a short period of time, she’d be lucky to have time to sleep alone, never mind with anyone. And if Madeleine ever got wind of her having a relationship, forget it. Sophia would be shipped off on the next flight.
“I mean, yes, I’m fine. Thank you. Have a nice day.” She spun on that heel, willing the stupid tingle his interest had sparked to go away, and headed toward her car.
“Hey, wait a minute.” Prince Charming caught up to her and grabbed an arm. Awareness sizzled through her.
She took a deep breath and glanced over her shoulder. “Yes?”
“I’m Reese.” His hand hadn’t left her arm and his fingers were doing all sorts of wonderful twirly moves on her skin.
She tugged. She did not have time for this. Not now, not in the next five minutes, nor the next five years.
“And I’m late. Thank you for your assistance. Have a nice day.” She gave him a slim smile and walked away. Another life, maybe.
“Hey, Cindabella!” called a nasal-y voice from behind her.
Drew. Bella missed a step, groaning while she tried to regain her balance. That stupid nickname. Her stepsisters found it funny. Bella did not.
But Drew would keep calling her until she turned around, so, resigning herself to three minutes of torture, Bella took another deep breath and turned around—
To find Prince Charming, er, Reese, with his arms folded, one shoe crossed over the other, and that mocking eyebrow almost touching his hair. “Cindabella?”
“Don’t ask.”
He uncrossed everything and sauntered toward her. “On one condition.”
“Huh?”
“I won’t ask on one condition.”
Drew was at the top of the courthouse steps and, even from there, the speculative gleam in her eyes was visible. Bella didn’t have much time.
“Fine. What’s the condition?”
“Your name. Unless it really is Cindabella?”
She laughed in spite of herself. “No. It’s Bella. Bella Casteleoni. As in the restaurant.”
For a moment she thought she’d seen disappointment on his face, but it was replaced quickly with a smile.
“Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?” he asked, a dimple winking in his left cheek.
She was a sucker for dimples. And he wasn’t making it any easier to forget about him. “I guess not.”
“Bella! Wait up!” Drew was a third of the way down the steps. “I need you to do something for me.”
Of course she did. Both of her stepsisters took that stupid nickname to heart.
Bella looked between Drew and Reese. “I’m sorry. I have to see what she wants. Thanks, again.”
Reese glanced at Drew, then nodded toward the platinum Ferrari convertible by the curb. Cool car, complete with rearing stallion logo. Not one of those souped-up muscle-bound cars, but elegant, classy, and sexy as all get out. Just like him. “I could give you a ride somewhere if you need an escape.”
She could use the escape, but that would leave Sophia in Madeleine’s clutches. “Thanks, but I can handle it, er, her.”
“You’re sure?”
They looked at Drew who was now extremely interested in Reese. Bella wouldn’t sic Drew on her worst enemy.
Unless that enemy was Madeleine, then, yes, she definitely would. “I’m sure. Thank you again.”
Reese took one last glance at Drew who had changed the angle of her descent to head right toward him. “Okay. Right.” In half a dozen steps, he reached the car and jumped into the driver’s seat. “Good luck. It looks like you’ll need it. See you around.” The engine gunned to life and he peeled into traffic with a wave just as Drew reached her side.
“Who’s the hunk?” she asked.
“Oh, just someone I bumped into.”
“Hmmmm.” Drew flipped her hair back in that annoying affectation she thought made her look sophisticated. It didn’t. “Listen, I need you to cater a party this Saturday.”
Of course she did. Five days’ advance notice was nothing to Drew. Matter of fact, Bella should probably be grateful for that much.
“What kind of party?” She’d love to tell Drew to take a hike, but the fact of the matter was, she needed the money. Even Drew’s. And there was a certain irony in her stepsister contributing to the fight against Madeleine.
“Jimmy’s mom is having a dinner party and her caterer cut out on her. I told her you’d do it.” Drew had learned social climbing at Madeleine’s knee; Jimmy DeLeo’s mom was not only one of the wealthiest women in town, but also on every social committee there was—including the Arts board Madeleine was desperately trying to finagle her way onto.
Hmmm, this might just help her beat Madeleine at her own game.
Chapter Two
Reese Charmant made a U-turn at the next traffic light instead of turning right to head back to the office so he could get another glimpse of Bella. Yeah, it was probably sexist in someone’s book, but it’d been a while since he’d been that up close and personal with such an attractive woman and he wasn’t ready for it to be over. And since the light was red, it didn’t have to be.
So that was Bella Casteleoni. He should have looked more closely at her bid for the auction before going with Conlon’s.
She crossed the street and that tear in her skirt teased him with flashes of shapely thigh.
Then again, maybe it was a good thing he hadn’t contracted her for the auction—it was never a good idea to get involved with someone you worked with. God knows, he knew that first-hand.
And he definitely wouldn’t mind getting involved with her. The woman was gorgeous. With long blonde hair that had felt so silky against his cheek, and breasts he’d only experienced for a mere second before he’d gentlemanly pulled himself off of her on the sidewalk. Hell, he was a saint. Someone ought to give him a medal for not taking full advantage of that situation.
Give it up, Charmant. You’ve got a business to run.
Too true. He didn’t have time to hang around, ogling her.
His altruism earned him that medal when Bella got into an older model Honda and her skirt hiked up, giving him a generous flash of thigh.
He smiled before pulling into traffic. His good deed for the day. Hopefully the karma from that would carry over to the mess his so-called buddy, Luke, had created by pulling a no-show at both this morning’s meeting and last night’s Meet-and-Greet.
Promotional Sports, the sports-celebrity appearance and event-management company that he and his childhood friend Jake had launched six months ago didn’t need any bad publicity. It was supposed to be a win-win situation for them and his former teammates, not temporary help for down-on-luck friends or their own personal dating agency-slash-ATM—all of which Luke apparently thought it was.
He’d known Luke was having a hard time with the forced retirement thing, and since his old teammate had run interference for him so many times in his career, saving him from countless injuries, he’d gone out of his way to help the guy out. But he’d never thought he’d have to run interference because of Luke. Especially when Luke had then taken the money and run.
Reese gripped the steering wheel tighter. His first clue should have been Luke’s insistence on getting the fee up front. The second should have been his gut. Something had felt more off about Luke lately, but, God knew, Reese had had enough of those days himself. It wasn’t easy going from superstar celebrity sports figure to has-been in a few months. Especially if you hadn’t planned to retire. Career-ending injuries, as he knew first-hand, were a bitch. Luke’s had only compounded a recent string of bad shit in the guy’s life.
So Reese had gone against past history and common sense, given Luke the money, then had to field calls from an irate client. And not only had he had to refund the money, but he’d had to show up at the event himself. And could probably kiss any referral business goodbye, too.
That couldn’t happen. Promotional Sports was now his life. Football had been—until it wasn’t—and this was the only thing left
of the game for him. He wasn’t going to let Luke or anyone mess it up for him.
Again.
***
“You’re giving me another chance, sir?” Jonathan Griff landed next to his supervisor on the street sign and blew the feathers out of his face as he tried to figure out how to resettle his own wings across his back. They weren’t the ones typically associated with Guardians, but since Jonathan had yet to earn angel wings, any type of feathered appendage was appreciated—though he wasn’t so sure how appreciative Bella and Reese had been of his prolonged aerodynamic learning curve, given that he’d caused them both to take a tumble.
“Of course you’ll have another chance, Jonathan,” said Raphael. “After all, you were responsible for that glitch in Bella’s father’s will.”
It was because of that “glitch” (among other things) that Jonathan had yet to earn his wings—and what was a Guardian without wings?
He folded the pristine dove wings across his back, the question plaguing him yet again. “If I’d known both Anna and Salvatore were going to die within a year of each other, Sir, I would have made sure to include all the proper names in the will.” The wife reference in the documents now referred to Madeleine, an oversight Jonathan deeply regretted. “I never thought he’d remarry so quickly. And then there was his fall…”
“That’s the thing, Jonathan. As their Guardian, you’re supposed to prepare for any eventuality. We’ll work on it. Not to worry.” Raphael’s smile took the admonition from the words, but didn’t lessen the guilt.
Guilt was one of the toughest emotions to overcome and, sadly, Jonathan had felt it far too often in his lackluster career. He just couldn’t seem to get a handle on this Guardian business and had no idea why the archangel kept him on.