If The Shoe Fits (8 page)

Aunt Theresa returned from delivering the meal
and removed her apron. She folded it and placed it on the counter.
“Anytime you need us to watch Sophia, just call, honey.” She patted
Bella’s cheek, giving it a little pinch. “Such a good girl you are.
Your mama and papa must be smiling down from Heaven, so proud of
you.”

“
Thanks, Aunt Theresa. I may take
you up on that offer.”

Lunch rush was upon her and Bella found
herself wishing Aunt Theresa had stayed. With the warmer weather,
people were leaving their offices and taking walks along the
shop-lined avenue. Thankfully, Gus was back in the kitchen and
Bruno, her busboy, walked through the door at just the right
moment.

“
Afternoon, Ms. C.” he said,
tipping a non-existent hat her way.

“
Hey, Bruno.” She tossed him an
apron.

When he raised his arm to catch it, Bella saw
a small elf of a man behind him. Barely five feet tall with a bald
head speckled with age spots amid a sea of wrinkles, he wore
wire-rimmed glasses that magnified startlingly brilliant emerald
eyes. Laugh lines ringed his mouth and a deep dimple winked in his
left cheek. He looked like a leprechaun, an unusual sight in their
little-Italy neighborhood.

“
Good morning, sir.” Bella always
liked to welcome new guests personally. “Welcome to Casteleoni’s.
What can I get for you today?”

His smile grew wider, although Bella wasn’t
sure how.

“
Well, hello, lass.” No brogue,
but the
lass
only added to his leprechaun-ness. “This is a
fine place you have here.”

“
Thank you. We’re glad you could
join us.” She cleaned a spot for him at the counter. “Are you new
to the area or just passing through today?”

“
Well, you might say a little of
both. I’ve set up my shoe store down the street a ways. We’ll see
how it goes.”

“
In the old Colantonio
shop?”

“
That’s the place. Heavenly Shoes,
I call it.” He thrust his hand over the counter. “Jonathan Griff,
at your service.”

Bella shook it. “Bella Casteleoni.
Welcome.”

He studied her. “What a perfect name for you.
It means beautiful.”

A much better association than the one Staci
and Drew had come up with. “Actually, my name is Lucinda Isabella,
but it’s such a mouthful that everyone calls me Bella.”

The man nodded. “Like I said, a perfect name.”
He took a seat at the counter bar. “So, I heard the place is known
for its specials. What is it today?”

Bella was grateful for the change of topic.
The nickname was a sore subject. Her mother had declared her
daughter to be her princess, so she’d been named after one. Why
that
one, Bella had no clue. Why not Grace or Caroline or
Elizabeth? Nope, she got the fictional symbol of perfection. And
all the accompanying fairy tale mumbo jumbo.

She offered Mr. Griff some menu suggestions,
purposely omitting the now-back-to-work Gus’s creation
du
jour
. No need to scare the new guy off on his first day. She
served him his tea with the splash of vanilla he requested and
scones with a generous helping of whipped cream, then settled back
into her routine of refilling coffee mugs and wiping down booths,
smiling when she heard a pair of familiar voices enter.

“
Bella!” they said in
unison.

“
Hey, Perla. Hi, Harry.” Her
partners in gastronomic crime headed for their favorite booth.
Bella had commissioned a plaque proclaiming it theirs last week and
couldn’t wait to surprise them with it. It was the least she could
do to show her appreciation for their loyalty to
Casteleoni’s.

She leaned toward them with a conspiratorial
grin. “Gus has a new treat for you today.”

Perla beamed at Harry’s less than enthusiastic
moan.

“
Aw, come on, Har.” Perla flicked
a lock of hair off her husband’s forehead. “It can’t hurt and it
does make him happy.”

“
And gives you your mad money, to
boot,” he muttered.

“
Oh, hush.” She tapped his arm as
he lifted his coffee. It sloshed over the edge of the mug so she
took the rag from Bella’s apron pocket and mopped up the spill.
“It’s our good deed for the day, just like Father DiGennaro says.”
She slapped his arm lightly with the rag, then handed it back to
Bella, who was valiantly trying not to laugh. These two sounded
just like Giac and Gus. “It smells wonderful in here. Like apples.
No, wait. Cranberries. No. Hmm, I can’t place it. What is it today,
love?”

“
Um...” Bella bit her tongue to
prevent herself from laughing long enough to get the answer out.
“Carrot waffles.”

Harry had no such compunction and groaned,
long and loud, before dropping his head onto his crossed forearms
on the table.

Perla’s mouth twisted as if she’d sucked on a
lemon. “You know, maybe we shouldn’t encourage him quite so
much.”

“
Or you could direct him to other,
less dangerous, pursuits,” said her husband.

“
Hmmm.” Perla tapped a bright red
manicured nail against her equally bright red lips. “That’s not a
bad idea.”

Before Perla could continue that thought,
Bella headed off to get them Gus’s special and enough coffee to
chase it down with. Perla and Harry couldn’t back out of their
arrangement now; Gus would be devastated if no one tried his
special and, so far, carrot waffles hadn’t gone over as well as the
spinach donuts. And those hadn’t gone over well at all.

“
Hold on, angel.” Perla tugged
Bella’s wrist before she could leave. “Have a seat.”

Bella took a quick look around. Everything
was, for the moment, under control, so she sat down. “What’s
up?”

“
I have a thought about Gus.”
Perla flicked one manicured fingernail with another. “I may be
talking myself out of my mad money, but our Gus needs to feel
appreciated for his creative endeavors. He needs people to enjoy
them, but the problem is, no one sees these concoctions of his as
creative. Maybe—” She wagged her finger at Bella. “Maybe you should
suggest he paint or do interior design. Or fashion.” She clapped
her hands. “That’s it! He sews the aprons for the restaurant,
right? He should create a line of clothing. There’s always a demand
for it.” Perla smoothed a hand over her figure.

“
Yes, Gus can bake regular food by
day and let his imagination run wild on yards of fabric in the
evening.” Perla stood and patted Bella’s shoulders. “Don’t you
worry, angel, I’ll set that man straight.” She snorted. “Well,
maybe not straight, but I’ll tell him my idea. I doubt Giac
or
Harry would be happy if I made Gus straight. Then we’d
have a whole other problem on our hands.” She flipped her hands and
scurried away. “Wish me luck!”

Bella shared a commiserating shrug with Harry.
Perla meant well. Just like Gus with his creations.

She returned to the counter, wiped down one
departing patron’s spot, then was about to refill Mr. Griff’s cup
of tea when he put some money on the counter.

Bella covered his hand with hers. “Oh, no, Mr.
Griff. This one is on the house. A welcome-to-the-neighborhood
gift.”

He smiled from ear to ear. “Thank you, lass. I
always knew you were—that is, er, you look like a generous soul.”
He put his other hand atop hers. “You must come to my shop someday
and I’ll find you the prettiest pair of shoes you ever saw—on the
house, of course.” He winked then hurried out the door so quickly
it was as if he had wings on his feet, leaving behind three coins
as a tip. Three
gold
coins. Hmmm, maybe he really was a
leprechaun.

Bella shook her head. Leprechauns, fairy
tales, unicorns… She needed to get a grip on reality.

Or on a really hunky
guy.

Been there, done that. And, oh, had it been
nice.

But then he’d pulled away and apologized.
Probably for the best, but still…

She plunked her chin in her hand and toyed
with the coins.
If only…

***

“
Kelly, get me a sub’s contract,
will you?” Reese asked his assistant as he passed her desk on his
way to his office.

“
Okay, but—” Kelly didn’t get the
rest of her sentence out before it became obsolete. “Luke Jamison
is here to see you.”

Through his office door, Reese could see that.
And he was not happy about it.

Especially with the guy making himself
comfortable behind
his
desk, rifling through
his
papers.

“
Something you needed, Luke?”
Reese refrained from throwing his fist into Luke’s face. Barely.
“Or are you trying to see where the benefit was that you
missed?”

Once upon a time they’d been friends.
Teammates. Business associates.

Once upon a time was over.

“
Hey, buddy.” Luke extricated
himself from the chair—Reese’s chair—with the grin that had always
saved his ass in the past. He’d been a media bad boy in their
football years, but had always managed to come out smelling like a
rose with that smile. Pure charm and charisma. But Reese was
immune. “Look, Reese, I’m really sorry, but Tanya—”

“
Cut the crap, Luke.” Reese
stormed past him, hands fisted. One more word and he’d put them
through Luke’s pretty-boy face. “Last time it was your mother, this
time your ex-wife. Now I’ve got a pissed off client
and
an
MIA caterer. Not to mention the meeting with
me
you skipped
yesterday.” He walked behind
his
desk. “It’s over.
Promotional Sports is finished with you.”

He tore a file from the top drawer and slammed
it open on the desktop. “This paragraph says no fee is to be paid,
and any advance is to be returned, in the event the
contractee—you—fails to appear at the contracted event.” He slammed
it shut, then leaned onto his palms, his face inches from Luc’s.
“You owe me ten grand.”

“
Look, Reese,” Luke said in a
voice Reese knew all too well. The come-on-honey-I-won’t-bite voice
that had gotten him more gullible women than Reese had thought were
on the planet. “The money’s gone and without your gigs, well,
there’s not much left to pay you back with.” He sat in the chair
facing Reese and grinned. “Come on, man, give me another chance.
I’ll be there. Promise.”

Reese closed his eyes and hung his head. The
unmitigated gall. He glared at his old teammate. “You don’t get it,
Luke. This isn’t a game. It’s my business, my reputation. While you
have no regard for your own, I have a
lot
for mine. I gave
you your second chance. Sunday night. And you blew it.”

“
Yeah, but
you
were there.
I knew they’d be more thrilled having the winning quarterback than
the tight end there. You could handle it.”

“
The point being—
you
were
contracted. They wanted the guy who caught that Hail Mary pass. Not
the one who threw it.” Reese shoved his hands into his pockets
because they wanted to make contact with Luke’s jaw way too much.
“We’re through, Luke. You’ve got a month to get me the ten grand or
I call my lawyer for breach of contract.”

Reese was serious. Even as Luke pursed his
lips, Reese hoped the man realized he knew him too well to think
about trying to schmooze his way out of this.

“
How about I work it off?” Luke
lost the grin and, with it, the cocky attitude. “I can’t afford
another court battle. Tanya’s last one used up all my cash as fast
as I could earn it.”

Reese had heard too many of Luke’s “deals” to
want to touch this one with a ten thousand foot pole.

“
Seriously, Reese. You must have
some event coming up where you could use me? I’ll do it for the ten
grand I owe you and we’ll call it even.” Luke shifted in his seat.
“I promise I’ll be there. Tell me where and when. I’ll even call
you the day before to let you know I haven’t forgotten.
Please
.”

Shit. That last word got to him. Luke’s motto
had always been, “Never beg for what you can win with charm.” He’d
never needed to beg. Until now. Shit.

Reese shouldn’t give in to him. He knew that.
Luke had always been unreliable. Well, except in a game. There he’d
proven himself, time and again. But he
was
going through a
rough patch. His ex-wife—one of the gold-digging groupies who’d
followed their team and had managed to catch the uncatchable Luke
in the oldest way possible—was demanding almost everything he owned
in return for joint custody of their son, Jared.

That “please” had been all about his son, and
Reese couldn’t punish the boy for his father’s misdeeds. Nor risk
Tanya getting full custody. Luke might not be a prince, but, in
Reese’s opinion, he was an infinitely better choice to raise the
boy than Tanya. Which said a whole
little
about
Tanya.

“
Not one word, Luke, to any of the
staff I hire. Not a look, a breath, or even a thought in their
direction, got it? One fiasco is enough. If you pull off the next
event without any drama, we’re square. If not...” Reese pulled out
the direst threat he could come up with. “I’ll testify for your
ex-wife.”