If the Shoe Fits (15 page)

“Oh … no … I …”

“It’ll be a good workout for me,” he said, scrunching down in front of her. “What do you weigh? About one-fifty?”

“No!” she exclaimed. Dialing it back, she forced a chuckle. “No. I’m not one-fifty. I’m … much
less
than one-fifty.”

“Okay. Well, hop on.”

“No, really, Paul, that’s okay …”

He straightened and turned around to face her. “Look, Julianne. You’re really slowing me down. Hop on.”

He pivoted and leaned down again, his hands braced behind him in the shape of stirrups.

Julianne glared at her ruined shoes for a moment as she considered the offer.

“I don’t know, Paul. A piggyback ride? Really?”

Before she could process it, Paul lifted her from the ground.

“Wh—what’re you … What are you doing?!”

She groaned as her fanny plunked down on the top rung of the rustic split rail fence that bordered that section of the hiking trail. Turning his back to her, Paul demanded, “Hop. On.”

Julianne shrugged. After she pressed down the hem of her pink-and-white gingham top with one hand and adjusted her denim capris with the other, she tossed her hands to his shoulders for support and threw herself onto Paul’s muscular back. It was the tallest piggyback ride she’d ever had.

And the most mortifying as well. Although …

“Wow. You’re really strong, aren’t you?”

Paul chuckled as he forged ahead at twice their former speed, blowing by several other hikers, most of them giggling as they passed. She guessed she really
had been
slowing him down. In no time at all, they reached the end of the trail, converging on a more dense assembly of people.

“Okay. You can put me down now,” she said, but Paul forged ahead. “Okay, Paul. I can walk now.”

Onlookers snickered, and Julianne buried her face in the slope of Paul’s shoulder. Her words muffled by his denim shirt, she pleaded, “Would you
pleeease
put me down? People are staring.”

At last, he slowed to a stop. When Julianne peeked at the world again, she saw that he stood slumped in front of a bench, and she slid down to it.

“Thank you.” She resisted the sudden urge to slug him. His macho was wearing a little thin on her.

“Let me see your shoes,” he said.

“My shoes?”

Instead of clarifying, Paul simply reached down and slipped off one of her sandals.

“Wait! What are you—?”

He took it with him to the water fountain. One quick splash on the shoe, and he scrubbed it with his thumb as he headed toward her again.

“That worked pretty well,” he said, handing it back to her. “Let me have the other one.”

She lifted her foot and allowed him to remove it. While he repeated the effort, she stepped into the clean one. When he finished, Paul knelt in front of Julianne and looked up at her as she slipped her foot into the damp canvas sandal.

“Just like Cinderella,” she muttered, and a warm, broad grin spread across her entire face.

Maybe not too much macho after all. Maybe just enough.

“Except Cinderella was smart enough to wear her special shoes to a ball,” he replied. “Not hiking around Winton Lake. That wasn’t too bright, Julianne.”

The grin melted from her face and landed in a puddle on her chin.

“To be fair, I didn’t know we’d be kayaking and hiking today, Paul.”

He stood up and looked down at her with a confused expression. “What did you think we’d be doing at a kite festival on a lake? Sitting on the grass eating ice cream?”

Well, yeah. I kinda did
, she thought. But she didn’t say so.

“Ice cream sounds kind of good,” she suggested tentatively. “Want to get some?”

“I don’t do ice cream,” he replied.

“Oh. Well. Maybe … something … else then.”

“We can get you some if you want it.”

“No. That’s okay.”

“If you’re hungry, we can get something.”

“Maybe a hot dog would be nice.”

“A hot dog!” he exclaimed. “These are the kinds of things you put into your body, Julianne? You’ll be dead by the time you’re forty.”

“I’m pretty sure a hot dog isn’t going to kill me, Paul.”

She raked over him with a heated glance. With his face all scrunched up like that, and the scolding tone in his voice, she realized she might have stumbled into the wrong fairy tale entirely.

“All right, Grumpy,” she teased. “Let’s just go see what they have at the concession stand. Maybe you can find something that won’t do us in before we make it home.”

Thirty minutes later, Julianne had scarfed down two hot dogs with ketchup and relish and ordered a big soft-serve ice cream cone that she enjoyed much more under the shadow of Paul’s disapproving and watchful eye.

“Just a taste?” she said, offering him her cone.

“No, thanks.”

“Come on, Paul, let’s relax a little, huh? We can go sit on the hill and watch the kites for a while. What do you say?”

He shrugged and thrust out his hand like it was part of his punishment. Julianne snickered as she clasped his massive hand, and the two of them headed across the green lawn, weaving around groups of suicidal people blissfully indulging in poisons like ice cream, cotton candy, and—
gasp!
—the dreaded hot dog.

Sledability factor, through the roof
, she observed as they trudged across the lush hill. Aside from the fact that a sled ride down this particular hill might surely end in a splash into Winton Lake, of course.

When she spotted Will on a gingham blanket, Julianne felt sweet relief wash over her in a cool shower.

“Will! Hey, Will!” She let go of Paul’s hand and jogged toward him, grinning. “Will! What are you doing here?”

“Hey!” he said. “Jules, this is Alison. We’re here with her third grade class.”

Julianne looked around at all of the children gathered nearby, and her eyes landed on Alison with a thud.

“Oh. Hi, Alison. It’s good to meet you.”

“Hey,” Will said with a nod that made Julianne remember she had company.

“This is Paul Weaver.”

“Hi, Paul. Alison Reece.”

“Jules,” Will said, leaning back on one elbow, “you missed the best one. They had this enormous delta-wing up in the air, just like the one my dad made. Do you remember flying that one?”

“I loved that kite!” she exclaimed. “I still have pictures of it somewhere.”

Julianne glanced at Alison, and she sort of froze under Alison’s dark brown stare. Her hand instinctively went to her mouth. Why was Alison gawking like that? Had she gotten ice cream all over her face or something?

“I’m sorry,” Alison said in response to Julianne’s obvious discomfort. “I’m staring. But it’s uncanny, really.”

“What is?” Julianne asked.

“The resemblance.” Looking to Will, she said, “They could be sisters.”

“Who could?” he asked.

“Holly and Julianne.”

“What? No!” he declared. “They don’t look anything alike.”

“Are you kidding?” Alison grinned at Julianne and tilted her head slightly. “You look so much like her.”

“Holly?” She looked from Alison to Will and back again. “I don’t understand. How do you know Holly?”

“I just met her a few minutes ago.”

Julianne’s heart began to pound against her chest. “Will. You ran into Holly?”

He nodded, and then shrugged.

She wanted to ask him if he was okay, if the meeting had gone well, or if he needed to run screaming from the park. He hadn’t seen Holly since she broke their engagement, and he’d barely spoken her name ever since.

Poor Will! It must have been—

Alison leaned toward Will and touched him gently on the arm as she whispered something to him softly. Whatever she’d said, it evoked a smile from him, and Julianne felt a slight flutter in the pit of her stomach.

“Well, we’re going to … go find a spot,” Julianne announced.

“Okay,” Will called over his shoulder. “Have fun.”

“You, too.”

“Nice to meet you, Julianne.”

She wanted to return the compliment, but she wasn’t entirely sure it had been such a pleasure meeting Alison.

She and Paul wandered a few yards up the hill and sat down together on the grass. While feigning interest in the colors overhead, Julianne used the moments in between to get a good look at Alison.

Dark auburn hair … dark brown eyes … dark skin … long, suntanned legs. The woman could have been a model! She seemed like the negative version of Holly, opposite in every way.

Opposite of me, too
, she realized.
Completely different, in fact
.

“I like your offices
. They’ve got personality.”

Julianne smiled as Phoebe set a cup of coffee on the conference room table in front of Veronica Caswell. “Cream and two sugars.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re sure I can’t get you something?” she asked Julianne.

“Nope. I’m good, thanks.” Phoebe headed for the doorway as Julianne added, “You haven’t heard from Will yet?”

“No, but I texted him and left a message on his cell.”

Veronica picked up the conversation where they’d left it. “The lobby has that retro feeling that you don’t find too often out where we are. I noticed even the elevator has those little details like the mosaic tiles.”

“We’d seen about a dozen offices that day on our search,” Julianne told her. “But the minute we pulled up outside, Will and I both knew this was the place.”

“Well, it suits you.”

Veronica had a polite and amiable smile, and Julianne found herself wondering if it was authentic or just practiced. After all, she’d built a mini-empire consulting people and businesses on how to build and sustain a certain image. Maybe calm and cordial was part of the appearance she’d constructed for herself, along with a subtly highlighted bob, a sensible manicure, and coiffed tailoring.

“I’m really sorry about Will,” she offered. “I’ve never known him to miss a meeting. Something unforeseen must have come up.”

Will had skipped church the day prior and gone to visit Gracepointe Christian with Alison. It had been the first Sunday they hadn’t spent together in she didn’t know how long. And now he hadn’t shown up for their meeting with Veronica. Julianne didn’t like the way everything seemed to change so quickly.

“Well, maybe we can go ahead without him?” Veronica suggested.

“Absolutely. I’m familiar with your company’s reputation, but why don’t you tell me a little more about the nuts and bolts of what you do, and about your expectations for outside legal counsel.”

“Good,” she replied, pausing to take a sip from her coffee. “You know then that we’re business consultants, but how that translates seems to be mysterious to the general public.”

Julianne chuckled. “Of which I am one.”

“We’re fairly diversified in the services we offer, but our main division handles image for corporate business. We go into large companies and conduct seminars for their leadership called
The ABCs of Corporate Image: Attitude, Behavior, and Connection
. For the smaller businesses, we help them cut back to the bare bones to determine and establish their brand, we plug them into a good public relations regimen, and we coach the players on the front line to the customers.”

“Like their customer service agents?”

“Yes. And their sales and marketing teams, even their human resources group if it’s warranted. We’re all about helping to shape businesses and individuals to perform at a level that will achieve the desired endgame results.”

“And where does legal counsel play into that plan?”

“We need someone on retainer for consultation, to handhold the collections group when they’ve done everything they can to collect a fee. There’s also the threat of lawsuits, which is almost a monthly occurrence in this corporate culture. Every CEO wants miracles for the price of a magic hat.” Veronica ran her index finger around the rim of her cup before continuing. “We’ve just completed a three-month cycle at Owens Farms.”

“The poultry people with the contamination outbreak earlier in the year.”

She nodded. “Right. We went in and took over their front line completely. We did damage control, our in-house PR firm took the reins, and in the course of a few weeks, we were able to turn the situation around completely. The problem is, once that happened, it wasn’t even thirty days before there was another instance of salmonella.”

Julianne cringed. “That made your job a lot more complicated.”

“Like you can’t believe. And now they’re threatening to sue us because we didn’t do the job in repairing their image to the consuming public.” Veronica sighed and dropped her hands into her lap. “You can only do so much, you know?”

“Even if they follow through with legal action,” Julianne reassured her, “that’s not one they can win.”

“So you see why we need you.”

Julianne smiled. “Who’s your current counsel?”

“We’ve had an in-house team for the last few years that was working out very well. But the lead decided to venture out on his own, and he took his four associates with him.”

Cringing, she asked, “Was he under contract?”

“It’s complicated.”

“How so?”

“He happened to be my ex-husband’s brother.” She paused for a moment before glancing up at Julianne and biting her lip. “Did I mention that my ex is also trying to take half of the company from me? Dividing up Caswell Consulting is like cutting King Solomon’s baby in half—neither side can win, and the baby is dead in someone’s arms.”