If The Shoe Fits (20 page)

https://facebook.com/laurieleclair.75

Here’s an excerpt from

Once Upon A Romance Series Book 2.

Available now.

Chapter 1

“Wake up, will ya!”

Francine King bolted upright in the tiny
enclosure. She blinked several times, trying to recall where she
was. Looking down at the layers of satin and lace dress with
hundreds of tiny crystals sparkling under the lights, she landed
back to earth with a dull thud. “Rico?”

“Of course, it’s me, silly. Who else would it
be?”

She sighed with relief. “Sorry. I’m just
jumpy.”

“And sleepy,” he muttered. “No rest for the
new independent woman, now is there?”

“Did you get them?” She stood, sweeping
layers of fabric in a neater array. “I’m decent. You can come in
now.”

He shoved aside the curtain to the dressing
room and produced the two-carat, tear-drop diamond earrings.
“Viola.” He swung the sparkling pair under her nose. “Do I deliver
or do I de-“ he stopped in midstream, his mouth hanging open. “Shut
up!”

Heat crawled into her cheeks. Pressing her
hands to her face, she asked, “Is that a good shut up or a bad shut
up?”

“O-M-G! You look fab-u-loicous, girl.” His
eyes nearly popped out of his head.

“I take that as good.” She smiled now,
fingering the delicate lace bodice on the wedding dress. “It’s not
too much. Or should I say too little?” she asked, splaying her hand
over the deep V neckline.

“You have bubbies.”

Another sweep of heat seared her cheeks. “You
sound like that’s a question, not a statement.” Looking down, she
noted the miraculous way the dress pushed her together to create a
definite cleavage.

“Come out, come out. Let me see more.”

Poking her head out of the dressing room, she
looked down the aisle. “Is the coast clear?”

“Everyone’s gone for the night or we wouldn’t
be here, you know that.”

“No one followed you? No guards? No manager?
You know she doesn’t like me.”

He sighed heavily. “Now who does?”

A stab of hurt lanced through her.
“Rico!”

Pursing his lips together, he murmured, “It’s
true.”

This time she was the one to sigh. She
marched out of the cubicle, down the hallway and into the display
room. Her so-called new friend didn’t mince words and she’d be
forever grateful for that. But the truth did hurt. She stepped up
onto the pedestal and gazed unseeingly into her reflection in the
full length mirror opposite her.

“Here, let me do the back up all the way,” he
clucked, delicately handing over the precious jewelry. He tugged at
the satin strings, pulling the wedding dress even tighter.

“I didn’t do anything,” she whispered,
slipping on the earrings. “I’m not my mother. I’m not mean or vain
or pushy—”

”Well…” He coughed a few times. “You can be
pushy, but, like me, it’s for a good cause. You’re just trying to
help out around the store.” He waved a hand. “Helping the
salespeople with their customers. I swear some people don’t have a
lick of common sense when dealing with the public.”

She forced herself to grin. “Not like us,
right?” Being a hairdresser in King’s Department Store salon
allowed Rico to judge the wisdom of his clients’ choices. He
expressed his opinion on more than just hair and makeup and
clothes. Nine times out of ten, he nailed it on the head.

And she, the stepdaughter to the late, great
Charles King, enjoyed the breath of fresh air Rico brought to the
legendary store. Taking a cue from him, she didn’t hold back on her
suggestions for the brides who shopped there. After all, if anyone
knew about weddings, she did. Francine lived and breathed weddings.
She considered herself an amateur expert on the subject; she poured
over bridal magazines and collected pictures in her three-ring
wedding binder for decades now. Her heart skipped a beat at the
thought of her dream wedding.

Only there were a few things wrong with the
picture.

Even after all these years, she still
couldn’t decide on a dress. She couldn’t have a perfect wedding
without the perfect wedding dress, now could she?

She’d never be able to afford her picturesque
day now that her mother had cut off her trust fund. How long would
it take to save for the lavish affair? Two years? Three? More?

And last, but not least, she faced another
even larger dilemma.

It was just too bad she’d never dated anyone
in her entire life.

No groom. Now that could be a big sticking
point.

“Francie, don’t slouch.” He smacked her
lightly on her bottom.

She sucked in a breath and twirled to
him.

“It was just a pat,” he soothed. “Pay
attention. Now turn around and behave.”

Folding her arms over her chest, she asked,
“Me?”

“Look, face it. You’re not Miss Popularity
around here. That award goes to Charlie.”

She should be offended, but she wasn’t. She
smiled now. Her older stepsister was the heir apparent and had
worked in the store for years, gaining the love and trust of the
employees. Francie and her younger sister, Priscilla, had only
joined King’s a few weeks ago when they’d abruptly walked out on
their demanding, controlling mother. Her smile faded quickly at the
thought of the woman who’d she’d never really known, but she had
listened to and blindly obeyed all these years.

“I know, Rico, it’s not that. They brand me
with the same brush they use for my mother,” she choked out the
last.

He shivered in revulsion. “No offense, but
that woman gives me the willies. Just one look from her and she’d
knock off her enemy. Thank God she’s greedy and sold off the store
to your new brother-in-law.”

“At least Charlie and he saved the store from
closing.”

“Ah, I hear it ain’t a sure thing.”

“What?!” Immersed in trying to stand on her
own two feet, working long extra hours to just survive and keep a
stern watch over her younger sister, Francie hadn’t the time to sit
down with Charlie to discuss the store’s numbers.

“The holidays will either make or break the
store.”

Her heart sank. Fear slithered in, cold and
dark. What in the world would her family do if the store closed?
This was her stepfather’s dream. Charlie had kept it going with her
brilliant ad campaigns lately. And she and Priscilla were not adept
at anything, not even being a salesperson. They’d only gotten their
jobs at the store thanks to Charlie and being family.

“Quit frowning. Look, all done up.” He stood
back. “Lovely.”

Jerked back to the moment, Francie came to
attention. She fingered her blonde bob into place, then, not liking
the look, pulled her hair up off her neck. “Better, don’t you
think?”

“Much,” he agreed.

Suddenly, the lights flickered off and on and
off and on again.

“Oh no, that’s the guards, the last warning
for the employees.”

Rico jumped. “Oh my God, I’ve got to get the
earrings back in the vault.”

“You took them from the vault?”

“I figured you could use some bling when you
tried on the latest arrival.” He waved a hand at her designer
wedding dress.

”But I thought you asked Charlie’s
permission.”

He looked away. “Ah, I sorta, ah,
didn’t.”

“Holy moly, Rico.” She yanked the earrings
from her lobes as if they were on fire. Hurriedly, she wiped them
on his sleeve. “Fingerprints,” she muttered. “Hold out your hands.”
When he obeyed, she dropped them in his palms like they were hot
potatoes. “Run, Rico!” She shoved him toward the door.

“I was just trying to help—” he cried, gone
in a flash.

Francie sank down in a heap. The beautiful
satin and lace material crumpled around her ankles and billowed up
to her waist. The corset-like top dug into her ribs.

She groaned, dropping her head into her
hands. “Please, let him put them back on time.”

Her mind swirled with the punishment if he
didn’t. Not only would he suffer the consequences, but, no doubt
everyone would discover she was in on it, too. Rico would not take
it lightly and would ultimately blab the truth about her
involvement.

It would be one more thing the employees
would hate her for and maybe even try to get rid of her and her
pesky, inexperienced sister, Priscilla. She’d had a feeling they
were just looking for an opportunity to show them in a bad light
and toss them out the door.

She cringed inwardly at the knowledge that
her sister and she probably deserved it, too. With no skills to
speak of, they’d bumbled through more than one chance and brought
more ire their way. Charlie had kept them on, comforting the other
employees. King’s would give them a chance, just like King’s had
given every hard working employee an opportunity to prove
themselves. How many more chances could she get, though?

With a huge sigh, Francie forced herself up
to her feet and back into the dressing room. The first tug on the
binds that squished her together didn’t budge. “Huh?” She tried to
snake one arm around her back and skimmed the tail end of the bow.
‘Why did he tie it like this?” Reaching over her back with the
other hand, she attempted to grab the ties that way. Her fingers
missed, not able to latch on. She wrestled with it for some time,
turning and twisting, even rubbing her back against the wall to try
to dislodge the knot.

Beads of sweat clung to her forehead. She
dashed those away only to have more form as she contorted again.
“Rico, what in the world did you do to me?” she asked between
gritted teeth.

Finally, with her arms aching from the
effort, she gave up. She needed help. Now she longed for the cell
phone she couldn’t afford.

“I can do this,” she whispered her new mantra
again.

Blowing out a breath and a strand of hair out
of her vision, she set her jaw and lifted her chin, slowly exiting
the dressing area. “Please let me find Rico before anyone else
finds me.”

***

Marcus Goode strode across the marble floor
of King’s Department Store. Stillness surrounded him. Looking up,
he spotted a familiar face. “Bruno, my man, how have you been
doing?”

He grasped the security guard’s hand and they
clapped each other on the back.

“Mr. Marcus, you’re a sight for sore eyes.
What’s it been? Ten years?”

“Maybe more. I thought you’d be long gone by
now.”

“Me? Hah, I love this place. Come on, Miss
Charlie’s waiting for you.”

Bruno punched in the code for the executive
elevator and ushered Marcus in when it arrived.

“Not coming up?”

“Nah, got rounds to do. Make sure no one’s
lurking about. Then we can shut this baby up tight for the
night.”

“Fifth floor, right?”

“Yes, sir, never changed that, but there’s
been a whole lot of changes in the last few weeks. I hear you’re
going to be another one.”

“
Temporary
change.” Marcus emphasized
the first word.

“That’s what they all say.” Before the doors
closed, Bruno said, “Now Marcus B. Goode, you hear?”

Marcus chuckled at the old joke. Alone now in
the enclosed muted gold compartment, he shook his head. His mother
had named him Marcus B. Goode as a lifelong reminder to be good.
Most people never knew his middle name was just an initial.
Luckily, he’d never had to cope with their reactions when they
found out. But some of his old childhood friends, including Bruno,
always knew and ribbed him about it.

It reminded him of how much he missed the
people in his life. Just like when he saw his mother earlier today
at the nursing facility. When had she gotten so old and so weak?
Was it just since she’d broken her hip and been in rehabilitation
to mend it?

Years ago, he’d struck out in business on his
own. His mother had several husbands along the way and, for the
most part, she’d been happy. But after each divorce, Marcus would
return to clean up any messes, make certain she had a nice place to
live, support her, and did what any only son would do and take care
of her. After all, it was his duty.

He’d promised his late father. And he never
broke his promise.

Even if that meant keeping secrets from his
mother to protect her.

The doors dinged open and he came back to the
present.

A tall, model thin lady with a wide smile
greeted him. In one arm, she cradled a clipboard. She stuck out her
hand. “I’m Peg Newbury, your assistant.”

He returned the surprisingly firm handshake.
“Peg, nice to meet you. I’m Marcus.”

“I know.”

That made him chuckle. She joined him. “Come
on, Superstar, Charlie’s just finishing up and will meet us in your
new office.”

“Temporary office,” he corrected.

Walking beside him down the corridor lined
with conference rooms and offices, she leaned over and whispered,
“Word is all this may be temporary if we don’t get our stuff
together in the next few weeks. Sales are up now, but will they
remain up now that Charlie’s easing back on her schedule because
she’s expecting?”

“That’s why she called,” he murmured in
agreement.

“Who better to yank us back into the
stratosphere than Marcus Goode, well respected, world renown
businessman who built an empire from one restaurant in little ol’
Dallas, Texas to dozens of restaurants and exclusive resorts in
dozens of the most beautiful places on earth?”