In Anyone Else's Shoes (2 page)

Emma had never seen her friend with a grin like this before. She looked so content, yet so hungry.

Cal wrapped his cock in a thin condom and lowered his body towards Alyssa’s. In one polished move he slid the head inside her and held steady. Then he pressed slowly forward until they were fused together.

Full, but greedy for more, Alyssa grabbed at Jake’s erection, drawing him close to her. It was a rhythmic engine, the three of them: Cal on his elbows, thrusting his hips with good intent, and Alyssa, pumping away relentlessly on Jake’s ample cock.

Emma had always treasured a tight, well-distributed ass on a man, and the sight of Cal’s solid butt, rocking back and forth over her friend, was too much for her. She drank in the seductive dance of the threesome one final time, and quietly left the house.

Chapter Three

What the fuck was that?

Emma drove away from Alyssa’s house, or carnal amusement park, or whatever it was, with a surprisingly steady hand on the wheel. She wasn’t sure if she was anxious to talk to her friend the next day, and rehash the oh-my-God can you believe it tales, or if she would just avoid her the rest of her life. She had always imagined Alyssa’s private life to be more … untraditional, but she had not realised how untraditional it really was.

Wanting to shake the images of her close friend being fucked and sucked, and, God knows, probably anything that could be done to a person sexually, she drove purposely, and directly, to her anytime-I-need-to-left-off-steam gym. She blasted the radio along the way, hoping a little music might distract her. She couldn’t shake the fact that Jake was such a douche, and could only speculate about Cal, but in spite of their shortfalls, they
were
the most gorgeous specimens she had ever seen. Too brawny maybe, and too stupid, or at least graceless, but, that aside, they were surface-of-the-sun hot.

Grabbing the small, pink duffel that resided in the back seat of her Volvo, Emma headed into Gold’s Gym. She liked the fact that the place never closed, which fit her retail lifestyle perfectly, and she loved that the gym was almost always loaded with young hard-bodies working diligently on their abs and delts, or whatever they called those splendid, muscly body parts of theirs.

Tonight though, she wasn’t there to furtively ogle the eye candy. She’d had enough of that for one day. She wanted to sweat a little, clear her mind a little, maybe even work on her figure a little.

Emma was OK with her body, but understood that if she wanted to keep things where they were, it would take a little effort on her part. She loved to work on her legs, and it showed. They were strong – muscles on parade strong. She worried that her thighs were too thick though, so she did lots of leg exercises to make them stronger – which made them thicker. She cursed the physics that allowed this to happen. Other body parts didn’t seem to respond to exercise in the same way; that’s why she barely bothered with chest workouts any more. But she had made peace a long time ago with this – as well as with her lack of model-requisite height.

She glanced sideways at the row of treadmills – her preferred cardio machine up until that mortifying incident when she reached for a water bottle and her ass landed in Tucson – and headed straight for the stationary bikes. For five miles of leg-searing pretend hills, none of which seemed to have a downslope, Emma brooded over her day, wishing she had passed on her friend’s invitation.

Owing to an unexpected epiphany somewhere around mile three, she realised it wasn’t a man, or lack of one, responsible for her recent fit of grouchiness. Emma loved her job, but for three years she had been managing the same store and repeating the same retail cycles over and over: stock new Spring shoes, get rid of old Spring shoes, take an inventory; stock new Fall shoes, get rid of old Fall shoes, take an inventory. She was a good manager, but she was deep in a rut and the shovel just kept getting bigger. Maybe it was time for a change; Phoenix was a great market, and Emma had a great résumé.

With a pink duffel full of sweaty workout gear and a heart full of resolve, Emma left the gym and entered the warm, moonlit night.

She could tell something wasn’t right when she spotted her car from a distance. The Volvo was listing to one side, the left rear tyre so flat it appeared to have melted to the ground. Emma glared at the mess as if exasperation alone could fill the flaccid puddle of rubber. It didn’t work. She took a deep breath and reminded herself that the day could only last a few more hours.

‘I’m not going to talk about it now, Alyssa. Can we do this later?’ Emma crimped the phone between ear and shoulder, her hands busy organising a thick file. ‘Mr Eastman is supposed to be here any minute.’

‘Who? Oh, our new Regional Vice President. I forgot he was in town today. You don’t think he’ll visit my store, do you?’

‘Of course not, Alyssa. Why would he drive all the way from Vegas to see both of his Phoenix stores?’

‘You’re being sarcastic, aren’t you?’

‘You figure it out, babe. Listen, I’m just glad to know you’re OK. We’ll talk later about your little orgy. Wait – scratch that. I don’t ever want to talk about it. Oh, and just in case? You might want to tidy your store up just a bit. Gotta go!’

Emma finished straightening her crowded office, then double-checked the sales floor once more, navigating the labyrinth of fixtures with keen eyes wide, just to make sure everything was perfect.

She hated how she would chronically blow these executive visits out of proportion, stressing over the smallest details. Especially now that she had decided it was time for a change.

But it was just the way she was. You hire Emma Green, you get 100 per cent of Emma Green. That’s why all the display shoes looked so irresistible in her store, why the couches were angled just right, and, perhaps her trademark obsession, why try-on peds seemed to vaporise a second after they had been used and abandoned.

Squatting to wipe a dust bunny from the stone sill of a display window, Emma was struck by a sharp flash of sunlight. It angled off a long, narrow car door, and then abruptly dimmed. Her attention was promptly drawn to the shiny, indigo-blue Jaguar that had been responsible for the disruption. If it weren’t for the no-limit credit card undoubtedly attached to this prospective customer, she would have rolled her eyes. Why do they need a car like that, she wondered, when they could be driving a perfectly good piece of crap like mine?

Emma stood to get a better view of the driver and perhaps welcome her to Untamed Soles. She looked to the other side of the plate glass window, and noticed a young man dressed in a soft-shouldered dark blazer, open-collared shirt and distressed jeans. Definitely not a woman. He was busy scanning the array of shoes Emma had spent the morning orchestrating. He peered down at the display, so she wasn’t able to get a good look at his face, but she did grab an eyeful of his wavy, dark brown hair, quivering in the light breeze. His face lifted and Emma locked on to piercing amber eyes and a radiant smile. The man tapped on the glass to gather her attention, as if the hook and barb weren’t already firmly lodged, gave her a quick thumbs up, and entered the store.

‘You must be Emma Green,’ he declared, offering his hand.

His warm, comfortable voice was immediately familiar to Emma. ‘Mr Eastman, it’s my pleasure to meet you.’

‘Jason – call me Jason. Your store looks beautiful, Emma. Better than our flagship! Please, I’d love a quick tour, and maybe you could introduce me to some of your employees?’

Emma almost reached for his hand to guide him around, but caught herself in time. Her new RVP seemed so young, so fresh, and so dynamic. But he talked like he was so much older! What a difference from Robert, her last boss, whose middle-aged, steely eyes and taciturn behaviour made everyone a little nervous, and a lot confused.

Jason walked the floor like a leopard stalking his prey, or a comedian working the crowd – Emma wasn’t sure which. He was smooth as glass. She suspected he got his steady poise and unmistakable self-confidence from giant containers at a warehouse club. She also sensed a sublime level of intelligence, which, for some reason, gave her an unexpected jolt of energy.

Jason examined the inventory and studied the staff, clearly taking mental notes. Emma couldn’t recall Bailey, Jan, or Rachel ever so eager to talk to someone, even when a weighty commission was on the line. But who could blame them? He was approachable, quick-witted, and close enough to their age they could have all been high school classmates – recently. The real reason the girls were behaving so palpably unfurled, though, the superficial reason at least, was that this man was tasty yummy from head to toe. His blazer did little to conceal his long, lean, muscular frame. Throw in the five o’clock shadow at ten in the morning, the perfect tangle of almost-messy, medium length, deep brown hair, those honey-brown eyes – he was a magnet, and the girls were helpless, floaty threads of metal.

‘I’ve got to tell you, Emma, your store is everything I was expecting – and more. I was given a heads-up before my visit.’ Jason had spent almost an entire afternoon with Emma, and was ready to open up.

‘A heads-up?’

‘Sure. I went over your numbers myself. They’re fantastic. And corporate thinks the world of you. I hope you know that.’

‘Not really. Pretty much the only communication I ever receive from Vegas is general, corporate-wide memo type information. Mr Laswell always told me things were fine, if I didn’t hear otherwise.’

‘Ah, Robert Laswell. Listen, Emma, I didn’t get to spend much time with the man, but things will be different now, I promise. And you’re doing a great job here. In fact, do you think we could have a minute to ourselves? Let’s step into your office.’

‘Um, if you haven’t seen it yet, there’s barely room for one of us in there. But I suppose we could squeeze …’

‘Let’s talk outside then, if you don’t mind. There’s something I’d like to discuss with you in private.’

Emma traced quietly behind her boss to the front of the store. He held the door open for her and she stepped towards the expansive display window. She stopped and turned to face him, and there he was, close to her – personal space close – as if he needed to whisper a secret.

Emma breathed him in, and, for a moment, allowed herself to consider him as something other than her spirited, assertive new boss; he was strong in other ways too. She imagined freeing two of those pearl-coloured buttons from his crisp-collared white shirt, and, with an inquisitive palm, exploring his smooth, firm chest. Three more buttons then waves of toned abs and … Stop it, she told herself. He’s my boss, and I’m old enough to have been his babysitter!

‘I want to ask you two things, Emma.’ Jason’s soulful eyes locked with hers and she couldn’t look away. ‘First off, as you may know, we’re opening a store in Tucson. Our long-range plan is to have it be a multiple store market, maybe three or four locations. It’s very important we get this first one right; otherwise, the whole market could be a bust. I’d like you to consider taking this store – get it off the ground properly. It wouldn’t be a short-term deal, Emma – you’d have to move. I know that’s asking a lot. Now, I can’t make any promises, but down the road, as we add more stores, there will be an opening for a group manager …’

He continued pushing his agenda, his sales pitch for Emma to pick up her life and relocate a hundred miles from home and from her friends – for a lateral move, and possibly, just possibly, something more in a few years. What would Ty think? Ty – maybe this
would
be good for her. Tucson could be a fresh start. It wasn’t the other side of the world. It was just a two-hour drive; close enough to not lose anyone in her life – unless she wanted to, or needed to. Her anxiety somewhat quelled, her mind drifted to what sort of cupcake bakeries might exist in Tucson.

‘So, of course you’ll have some time to think this over, OK?’

‘Sure. Wow, that is a lot to think about, Jason. Thank you for your confidence in me, but …’

‘Wait, Emma. I’m sorry to interrupt, but before you say anything else, I have one more question for you.’ Jason’s eyes left Emma’s face for the first time. He looked down at the sidewalk, like a little boy searching for a bug to squash. ‘Would you have dinner with me tonight?’ He continued to look away from Emma, and he suddenly seemed very shy. She thought she detected a blush. ‘We don’t have to talk business. I’d just like to get to know you better … personally.’

Emma tried to quickly gather her thoughts. What was he asking? Was it some sort of trick question? It was true that he didn’t know her very well, so she guessed he must want to check her out, see if she was a stable enough candidate for a future group manager position. But why was he acting so different all of a sudden? Like he was asking her for … a date.

‘Can I ask you something, Jason? I mean, I’m a little confused about … I was wondering, if we’re talking about you getting to know me …’

‘What is it, Emma? Ask me anything – seriously – this is all off the record, OK?’

Jason’s gaze returned to her once more, and he stepped even closer. He smelled amazing – ginger, cedarwood … Shit, she thought, he smells like yummy sex! He began consuming her with his eyes again.

‘What’s the …? Who are you, Jason Eastman? Please, don’t get me wrong, but you are not like any other Untamed Soles executive I’ve ever met. You’re
very
smart, and you’ve given me some great ideas for my store, but … you’re so full of energy, and, so young, and, seriously, a brand new Jaguar?’ It was everything Emma had been dying to know all day and she spilled it all at once, like her eye shadow this morning, or her Diet Coke pretty much every day. She swallowed hard and wanted to kick herself for not having the self-restraint to keep some things inside.

Jason stood emotionless for a moment and Emma thought she’d drown in a flood of regret. Then came the smile – the bright, revealing smile. He was either about to laugh aloud as he terminated her, or he was delighting in her candour. She wasn’t sure which.

‘All good observations, Emma; I
like
your spunk. If I may, it’s one more thing I find … appealing about you. Now, I probably know more about you than you realise, so it’s only fair that I indulge your curiosity. First of all, I’m 24 – maybe not as young as you think I am?’

‘I really hadn’t assigned an age to you in my mind or anything. I just meant you’re so enthusiastic, so full of life!’
Twenty-four
? Couldn’t he be at least a couple of years older?

‘I’ve been out of school for three years, but I feel like I’ve been working my whole life. My father has a few car dealerships in Connecticut that were passed down to him from his father. I remember being ten years old, running contracts between finance and sales. In college, I pretty much lived every weekend at our store in New Haven; that kind of erased any opportunity for a social life. I never stopped working for my dad, until last year. His dealerships are supposed to be mine one day – maybe. They’re all very successful, but I had to get away from it for a little bit – see if anything turned me on more than the three-card monte business that’s defined my family for four generations.’