If the Shoe Fits (22 page)

“Like a paid
escort
.”

“Sort of. But with no expectation of anything more, of course.”

“Julianne.”

“I think he’ll do it, Will. I really do. I mean, he was willing to go to dinner with me after he’d just dumped me. Surely, he’ll—”

“Ah, Jules.” Will shifted his leg and turned completely toward her, gripping the side of the tree trunk for balance. Indignation flaring his nostrils, he exclaimed, “Have you lost your mind? Really. I want to know. Have you gone completely out of your gourd?”

“What do you mean?”

“What do I mean?” he repeated slowly, and he pushed himself upward until he stood on both feet. He navigated the trunk toward the shore, muttering. “What do I mean? She wants to know what I mean?”

“Will. Where are you going?”

Once he reached terra firma, he turned back and gawked at her. “Where am I going?”

“Stay here and talk to me,” she said. “Tell me what you think is so wrong with paying Paul to—”

“Don’t!” he interrupted. Will raised both hands, violently motioning for silence. “Stop talking, Julianne. Right now, just stop talking!”
I may need to rethink everything
.

And with that, he turned and stomped up the hill, across Lakeridge Drive, and toward the Weylons’ backyard.

“Have you lost your mind?”

“Why do people keep asking me that!” Julianne cried.

“Uh,” Suzanne snorted, “maybe because you’ve obviously
lost your mind
?!”

“Come on, Suz. I thought for sure I could count on you to give me a little support.”

“Julianne. Are you kidding me here? You couldn’t have prayed about this. You’re asking me to support you in a crazy scheme to
pay
the guy who just broke up with you to be your
date
to a formal gala when the very reason he gave for breaking up with you was that he doesn’t enjoy
formality
.”

Julianne deflated. “Well, when you say it like that—”

“Like … what? Reasonable?”

Suzanne’s blue parakeet bobbed his head and chirped sweetly before he resumed his dance back and forth across the slope of Julianne’s shoulder. “You understand, don’t you, Gus?”

He whistled out a happy, affirmative reply.

“Julianne, you cannot do this.”

“He’s going to say yes, Suz.”

“Even if, by some remote possibility, he actually does agree,” she implored, “this just can’t end any way other than badly.”

“Why? It’s not like I have any delusions about him dating me for real again.”

“Only about making other people think he will. Aren’t you the person who wouldn’t go with me to a fashion show that you felt was too risqué for … what did you call it? …
the sake of appearances
?”

Julianne sighed. “When I saw him walking down the middle of the road with that dog in his arms, heading straight for me, I … I really thought it was a sign from God, Suz. I felt like that was my future walking toward me.”

“You want a long-lasting relationship out of that one minute in time? Then go adopt the dog. Don’t waste five hundred dollars on a momentary flash in the pan. It’s one night, Julianne.”

Julianne frowned at her friend before answering her ringing phone. “This is Julianne.”

“Hi, it’s Phoebe.”

“Hey, Phoebe. What’s up?”

“We have a bit of a situation here at the office.”

“You’re still there? Phoebe, it’s after seven.”

“I stayed after hours to clean the place and get ready for tomorrow morning’s photo shoot,” she rattled. “But the thing is … I was in the conference room dusting, and I heard something out in the reception area, and I went to check it out. That’s when—”

“Is that Julianne?” a man shouted in a shrill yet vaguely familiar voice. “You tell her to get over here right now!”

“Phoebe, who is that?”

“It’s Mr. Winters,” she said, followed by a scuffle for the phone.

“Julianne? Julianne, you need to get over here to the office right now,” Rand railed at her through the receiver.

“Rand, what’s going on?” she asked, and Julianne popped to her feet, prompting Gus into taking immediate flight from her shoulder to Suzanne’s. “You’re scaring Phoebe.”

“Look,” he ranted between what sounded like clenched teeth, “I need you here right now, or there might not be time to talk to you before they come for me.”

“Before who comes for you?” she asked him. With a gasp, she added, “Rand, what have you done? Did you shoot the new pig? Tell me you didn’t—”

“It’s not about pigs, Julianne! Please, just come over here right now.”

Further scuffle ensued, and she had a hard time keeping up with what might be going on. The phone seemed to drop to the floor before she heard a muffled ruckus in the background. She could barely make out what came next.

“Randall Winters, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney …”

“I have one,” Rand shouted. “She’s on the phone right now.”

“Phoebe? Hello?” Julianne exclaimed. “Are you there?”

“Hang on,” Phoebe said. “The officer’s going to talk to you.”

A moment later, “This is Officer Steve Lambright. Who is this?”

“Julianne Bartlett. I’m Mr. Winters’s attorney. Can you tell me what’s going on?” she asked.

“We’re arresting him.”

“Arresting him? On what charge?”

“Attempted murder, ma’am.”

“Murder! Attempted murder …
of a person
?”

“Yes, ma’am. If you’d like to meet us at the station, we should have him processed within the hour.”

A moment later, Rand’s objections faded into the background and Phoebe came back to the line. “What should I do?”

“Call Will. Tell him what’s happened and that I’m going to the police station to find out what I can. I’ll call him afterward to fill him in.”

“Okay.”

She heard a slight quiver in her assistant’s voice. “Phoebe? Are you all right?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?” Julianne asked her. “Because you don’t sound all right.”

“No, I’m okay. I just thought … I didn’t know why they were here, and I … It startled me, you know? I’m fine. I’ll finish up here and have things ready for your interview and photographer tomorrow.”

“You’re wonderful, Phoebe.”

“No. I’m really not.”

“You are. And when you get Will on the phone, remind him about tomorrow, okay?”

“Sure.”

Julianne cracked
open the lid and sniffed the carton of cottage cheese.

“Ohh!” she groaned, and she sealed the lid over the mess before tossing it into the trash bag in her hands.

“Jules, what are you doing?” Will asked.

“I’m cleaning out my refrigerator,” she told him. “It’s like something out of a terrifying science experiment.”

“Could you please just focus on this call, and tell me what happened with Rand?”

“Can you imagine if that ruckus would have happened at the office tomorrow instead of today?” she cried. “
Queen City Magazine
and their photographers there just in time to catch Rand Winters being arrested in our front office!”

Will sighed. “Jules. What led up to his arrest?”

“Hey, do you know how long you can safely keep a dozen eggs after the sell-by date? Is six months too long?” Just in case, she tossed the carton of eggs as well. “He was assigned a smash-and-grab last year,” she explained while trying to pry a jar of grape jelly from the spot where it had dried to the top shelf. “The guy didn’t like how it went. He served six months, and a few hours after he was released from lockup, he shows up at Rand’s house.”

“I told you about the dangers of working as a public defender, didn’t I?”

“Well, they get into an altercation, Castillo pushes his way into the house. While Rand goes for his gun, Castillo spots his wallet and takes it. He runs from the house, Rand chases him….”

“Oh, no.”

“Yep. Shot the guy right outside the house on the sidewalk. I’m just glad Emily wasn’t there to see it.”

“What is wrong with Rand Winters, Jules? A guy like that should not be allowed to own a gun.”

“If only the Emily Aldens of the world ruled our society,” she remarked just as the jelly jar finally broke loose, and she let out a little squeal as it did.

“What was that?”

“Grape jelly,” she replied. “So the arraignment is tomorrow morning, but I’ve got my photo shoot and interview at the office at eleven. Any chance you can cover it for me?”

“Yeah, sure. But don’t hold it against me if I ask the court to deny bail? I’m thinking Rand is a danger to himself. Maybe some time in a cell will keep him out of trouble for a few minutes.”

Julianne giggled. “You’re still grumpy.”

“I am not grumpy.”

“Yes, you are. Are you mad at me?”

He took a moment before answering. “I’m not mad. Just a little disgusted.”

“Disgusted!” she exclaimed, and she paused to inspect a plastic container filled with fuzzy white strawberries. “What a thing to say to me.”

“You’re paying a guy to be your date so you don’t have to let me escort you. What does that make me? Lower than an
escort
?”

“Well, he hasn’t agreed yet, so hold that thought,” she replied, dropping the berries into the trash bag.

“Ohhh, no you don’t, my friend!” he said, and she imagined him shaking his finger in her face. “If you think I’m going to be your backup last resort
ever
again, you are sadly mistaken. If this guy has the good sense to turn you down, you’re all on your own, Julianne. Do you hear me?”

“Yes. I hear you,” she said as she scrubbed the sticky jam off the glass shelf.

“Yes, but do you really hear me?”

Taking her head out of the fridge, Julianne replied, “I hear you, Will. I hear you. I just don’t believe you. You’d never leave me twisting.”

“No? Be assured, Julianne. My days as your consolation prize are over. O.V.E.R. Over.” He paused and said it again. “
Over
. Got it?”

“Yeah, yeah, okay…. So I’ll see you at the office after the arraignment? She may want you to give her a quote about how amazing I am for the article.” Will’s silence elicited a chuckle out of Julianne and she sang, “I love you, Will.”

“Mm-hmm, I wonder,” he mumbled as he hung up.

She pushed the button on the Bluetooth draped over her ear and then tossed the earpiece to the counter. The evening’s refrigerator adventure had begun with her growling stomach, and she’d gone foraging for a late snack only to discover the sad state of affairs inside her pretty stainless steel Frigidaire.

Once she’d deposited the bag into the garbage can outside the back door, she returned to the kitchen and poked her head inside the open freezer.

A bin full of ice … a graying package of ground beef … three bags of frozen broccoli … a Lean Cuisine from 2009 … and a package of chocolate peanut butter cups. She removed the candy and tore open the wrapper.

Frozen chocolate is better than no chocolate at all
, she decided, and she bit into one of the iced-over candies with a hard crunch that almost hurt her teeth.

“We’ve just taken on a big corporate client,” Julianne said, “and that will keep us fairly busy. And of course we’re in the midst of building our list of individual clientele.”