"Becky, I haven't been prepping for this meeting in order to miss it just because I'm a bit under the weather. I'll be there as soon as I can find my shoes in this mountain."
Liliana frowned at the pile of shoe boxes in her living room. It was a necessary evil to have her babies all boxed up and piled in here while her bedroom closet was undergoing renovations, but she knew her babies were suffering. She patted the top row. "Don't worry sweetlings, the carpenter said your new cupboard will be finished this week. You're going to love the brilliant design he did. It's fabulous." She heard the key in the lock. "And here's the man of the hour."
Michael Paige stopped with his hand on her front doorknob and one steel-toe boot on the threshold. "Sorry, Ms. Crane, I didn't realize you'd still be home."
"Hello, Mr. Paige. Just need to locate a pair of shoes in all this, then I'll be on my way." She reached for a box at random, but stopped when he stepped forward, hand raised.
"Ms. Crane, if I may be so bold," He swept his eyes over her scoop-necked, black silk blouse and mauve pencil skirt then over to the boxes. "I'd recommend you go with these ones." He pulled a box from the middle of the pile and opened it to reveal a pair of animal print slingback heels that, amazingly, she'd never actually worn.
When their fingertips met as he handed over the box, she looked up in time to catch heat flash through his eyes. Delight curled in her core when he glimpsed at her lips before dropping his gaze to the floor. Slowly she withdrew her hand. "Thanks. How did you know those were there?"
He shrugged and stuffed his hands in his jeans' pockets, rattling the tools hung on the tan leather tool belt slung low around his hips. "You've got an impressive collection there. I got a good look when I was boxing them up and piling them here, so I remember where I put them all. Important information just sticks in my brain, somehow." He coughed and looked at her from the corner of his eye.
She held the pair of shoes up and looked at them from different sides. "You know, these are the only pair of shoes I've ever bought that I regretted. I don't think I suit animal prints."
Michael cleared his throat. "Ms. Crane, you could wear the shoe boxes and look good. My sister's taking fashion design, so I've been schooled in what looks good on someone. And trust me, animal print is definitely a good look for you."
She made a noise of disbelief in her throat, but slipped on one of the shoes. She held out her foot, then looked at her reflection in the floor-length mirror behind her front door. He was right. They looked fabulous with her outfit. When she leaned down to put on the other one though, pain sliced through her head, and the floor rushed up to meet her.
"Whoa, there," Michael caught her before she fell to the hardwood and gently lowered her to sit on the sofa. Concern etched deep creases across his forehead. "Are you okay? You're really flushed." He pressed the back of his hand to her forehead. "Ms. Crane, you're burning up."
He picked her up as if she weighed no more than a child and carried her upstairs to her room. Carefully he lay her on the bed, then disappeared out the door. She closed her eyes and focused on the pulsing heat radiating from her ear. She knew it was an infection she should have gotten medication for two days ago.
She'd be able to make it through the meeting in an hour, but she definitely wouldn't be going to the Valentine's Day dance at the Four Seasons in Toronto tomorrow. She sighed and massaged her aching temples. It sucked that the first year she actually wanted to go, she couldn't. Her sister was going to be furious because she had a blind date for Liliana and everything. A date who sounded better than shoe shopping, which was another first in a long time.
YOU ARE READING
Built To Last
ChickLitLiliana Crane is ready for the biggest meeting of her career - except she can't find her shoes, and an ear infection is trying to take her down. When her carpenter comes to her rescue, he shows her he has skills beyond just building a new closet for...