If The Shoe Fits by Laurie LeClair Page A

lowered her brows.
    “Something like that,” Charlie confessed. She
eased all the way back in the chair and, with her foot, dragged the
ottoman over. She and Dolly rested their feet on the footstool at
the same time.
    “That good, huh?”
    “Better.”
    They giggled.
    “I guess all them stories ‘bout him were true
then.”
    “Yep.” She smiled. An ache throbbed to life
somewhere deep and low. Charlie sighed.
    There was a moment of silence as Charlie
watched beyond the glass window and noted the usual slow, steady
stream of Sunday foot traffic on the street. No one took notice of
her and her friend redecorating one of King’s Department store
windows. That seemed to be a problem. No one noticed because fewer
and fewer people shopped at King’s.
    “Hey,” Dolly said, dragging Charlie back to
the moment, “you think Edward and Mr. R. talk about these kinda
things?”
    “Compare notes?”
    “Yeah. I wonder what they say.”
    “That we’re good, of course.”
    Dolly burst out laughing. Charlie soon joined
her.
    A few minutes later, Charlie asked, “Do you
think this will work, Dolly? I mean,” she waved a hand at the bogus
deck of cards on the table between them, the mannequins eerily
similar to her and Alex nearby waiting to be gently positioned in
the chairs they occupied, “all this?” As she glanced over her
shoulder at the bold-faced family name she’d contrived, she winced.
“The Charmings?”
    Her friend must have heard the nervous edge
in her voice; she said, “Honey, all these people have been
wondering about you and Mr. R. The papers, the reporters, the
questions, all the juicy details. This is the perfect way to let
them in on what’s going on. And get a whole lotta interest back in
King’s.”
    She bit her lip. Recalling the other display
window they’d just finished nearly an hour ago, Charlie wondered
what Alex’s reaction would be to an image of him proposing to her
on the impression of the yacht she and Dolly had created.
    Dolly tapped a finger on the deck of cards
nestled on the table between them. “The first window’s a teaser.
People are going to see that and rush to this one. Won’t they get a
good chuckle over your engagement and the fake cards?”
    She tried to smile, she really did, but a
muscle near her lip twitched instead.
    The idea for the displays had come to her as
she showered that morning. Still dripping wet, she’d hurried to her
sketch pad and, with a few quick strokes, had both drawings coming
to life right before her very eyes. She’d had her friend involved
shortly thereafter as they dreamed up fabrics and colors. Charlie
had thought nothing of getting approval from her husband. He’d
departed the house nearly an hour before.
    Now, she realized she didn’t have license to
broadcast his life. “But Alex?”
    Dolly waved her off. “Oh, pooh! That man has
had everyone and their brother dissecting him for years. He’s used
to it. And why can’t his wife and her store get a little cashola
from it? You know how much business this is going to drum up,
honey?”
    She imagined the revival of King’s and the
increase in sales, especially among the younger female
demographics. “Who wouldn’t want to buy into the fantasy of love,
right?”
    “Righto!”
    Almost a half hour later, Charlie rearranged
her mannequin, the last piece put into place. Stepping back, she
tapped a finger to her lips. Then she snapped her fingers. “Ah hah!
That’s it. She’s got the wrong shoes on. No one is going to buy
yesterday’s pumps. I’ve got just the perfect pair in my office.
Dolly, wait here, I’ll be back in a jiffy.”
    “But—”
    “Gotta rush,” she called back as she dashed
through the unlit, empty store and to the elevator. In her stocking
feet, she slid across the marble floor. She giggled, recalling how
every Sunday when the store was closed, her father and she would
kick off their shoes and compete on who could slide the farthest.
Time and time again, he’d