If the Shoe Fits (2 page)

Julianne watched the sight before her in gaping silence.

He had to be more than six feet tall, and his shaggy, blondish hair fell past the collar of the long black coat that seemed to float behind him as he stalked toward her, straight down the double yellow line in the center of the road. A day’s worth of stubble shadowed his suntanned face, along with an intense form of resolve. The soles of his boots pressed puddles in the road into tiny geysers at each determined step, and he glided through without notice. But the best part: the way he gazed down at the enormous bulge of pale yellow fur in his arms as the large dog tilted its loving, grateful gaze upward.

Before she could fully register the pair as anything more than a momentary vision, they disappeared into the pickup truck in front of the SUV ahead of her.

“No,” she found herself squealing right out loud. “No! He’s …
leaving
.”

“Who?”

“Will, he’s driving away! How do I stop him!”

“Stop who? Was it a hit-and-run? Can you see a plate?”

“N-no,” Julianne stammered, straining out the window for a better look at the driver of the cherry-red Chevy truck.

“It looks like a dog was hit. And God sent an angel to the rescue.”

“What are you babbling about, girl? … Jules,
did you hit your head?”

The pickup sped away around the corner, and the four-wheel drive ahead of her followed suit, swerving angrily before screeching through the intersection.

“Hey! Something fell off the angel’s truck,” she said, distracted. “I’m going to pick it up.”

“Pick up …
What
?”

Julianne thoughtlessly pitched her cell phone to the seat beside her and flicked on the hazard lights. She heard Will scolding her in the distance as she let herself out of the car into the rain and hurriedly approached the obstruction in the road ahead.

There before her—as oddly out of place as, say, a woman standing in the middle of a busy intersection in the pouring rain—sat a red toolbox with one leather work boot propped innocently against it like a billboard advertisement.

Julianne cocked her head and gaped at it for a moment before the blast of car horns propelled her into action. The muscles in her arm flexed painfully all the way up to her neck as she struggled to lift the box, and she grabbed the boot by the laces and ran, dropping them both into the backseat of her car once she reached it. She’d barely closed the door behind her as she thrust the gearshift into drive, and she squealed away just in time to miss the impact of oncoming traffic by a stone’s throw.

“What are you doing now? Jules?”

“His toolbox fell off his truck,” she said as she pressed the speaker button on her iPhone.

“Whose truck?”

“And a boot. So I stopped and picked them up out of the road.”

“A boot? Jules, what are you talking about?”

“I grew up with two older brothers,” she continued as she took the turn onto Ninth. “This kind of toolbox is really expensive. He had the truck bed stacked with all kinds of lumber, and the box fell out when he stopped to save the dog.”

“What dog?”

“The dog that was in the road, Will. Pay attention, would you, please?”

His groan of exasperation was mostly lost on Julianne.

“I’m going to have to find him,” she thought aloud. “I wish I’d have gotten his plate number.”

The idea of finding the dog-saving angel in the red Chevy pickup set her pulse to pounding an octave above the steady beat of windshield wipers that matched her heartbeat.

“Maybe I could call the newspaper and place an ad,” she said as she veered onto the shoulder of the road to avoid the traffic blocking her from turning into the city lot. “Tools like these don’t come cheap. Oh, and the way they were sitting there in the road, the work boot propped up against the box, it was like … a sign. God was telling me something, I just know it. He drove away—”

“Who? God?”

“—but I’m supposed to find him.”

“Find him?”

“Yes, find him,” she declared. “I’m not going to stop searching until—”

“And, by George,” he interrupted with dramatic flair, “you’ll take that boot to every workshop in the kingdom if you have to! Every man shall try it on until, at last, you find your prince.”

Julianne didn’t reply. She just grinned and shrugged slightly. It was the germ of a plan, after all.

“Will, I’m due in court. I’ve got to run.”

“I’ll see you back at the office when you’re through.”

Once she found a parking spot, Julianne slipped her phone into her bag as she ran. As she skidded around the corner and through the double glass doors into the courthouse, water sloshed from the fishbowl to the rubber mat lining the floor.

“Oh, phooey!” she cried as she scampered up the stairs to the second floor, shielding the open top of the bowl with her hand in an effort to keep the stunned fish inside it while squeezing her briefcase beneath one free arm.

“Ms. Bartlett,” Judge Hillman greeted her the moment she burst through the door to the courtroom. “We were just speculating as to whether you were going to join us this afternoon.”

“Oh, Your Honor, I am so sorry. The weather is horrible out there, and the traffic trying to get off Ninth Street is impossible. I apologize for—”

“Ms. Bartlett, is that a fish?” he interrupted.

“Oh, yes, sir. Yes, it is.”

“What, pray tell, is it doing in my courtroom?”

“Th-this is Jonah, Your Honor. He’s my pet goldfish, sir. And I had him in my car, planning to take him over to our new office before I was due in court. But because of the weather and the traffic, and this really amazing man … a vision, really …”

“And the tie-up on Ninth?”

“Yes, sir, because of that, I didn’t have time to stop by the office first, and I couldn’t just leave him in the car.”

“No, you couldn’t do that. Why again?”

Julianne set the fishbowl and her briefcase on the table before her, slipping out of her diet Coke–splotched raincoat as she continued. “Begging Your Honor’s pardon, I thought I could set him right here on the corner of the table.”

“Bailiff? Is there a No Pets rule for my courtroom?” Judge Hillman asked Bridget, and the stocky woman grazed Julianne with a serious eye.

“Yes, Your Honor. But I don’t think we’ve ever found the need to exercise it until now.”

“Ms. Bartlett,” Hillman said seriously with an arch to his rather bushy gray eyebrow, “you may leave, um …”

“Jonah. Like the guy inside the whale?”

“Yes. Leave it right there on the table for today. But be advised that there will be no further allowances for pets of any kind in my courtroom. Is that understood?”

“Y-yes, Your Honor. Thank you so much.”

Julianne ran her hands through her damp hair and pressed the front of her navy suit.

“Are we ready to proceed then, Ms. Bartlett?”

“Yes, sir. I’m ready.” Casting a casual glance toward opposing counsel, she added, “If Mr. Flannigan is ready, that is.”

“Oh, I’ve been ready for quite some time, Your Honor,” Flannigan replied.

“All right then. Let’s play courtroom, shall we?” he asked them. “I’ll be the judge. Is your client present, Ms. Bartlett?”

“Uh, no, sir, he’s not.”

Flannigan groaned, and Hillman released a sigh from behind the bench.

“Did your client understand that part of the arrangement of being out on bail includes showing up in court?”

“Yes, sir,” Julianne answered politely. “But there are extenuating circumstances surrounding this case.”

“Your Honor!” Flannigan exclaimed, and he went silent when the judge raised his hand.

“Your client was caught on videotape in Leffler’s Jewelry Store stealing a two-carat diamond, Ms. Bartlett.”

“Yes, sir.”

“A diamond which he swallowed, but which never passed through his intestinal tract, is that correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And Mr. Bertinni does not contest his guilt in this matter?”

“No, Your Honor. In fact, he is hoping to make full restitution to Leffler’s, which is why he’s not present in the courtroom today and why we’re hoping for a continuance on this matter.”

“Can you explain that to me, Ms. Bartlett?”

“Well, sir, Antonio Bertinni is currently a patient at Good Samaritan Hospital.”

“The aforementioned diamond?” Hillman asked.

“Yes, sir. It’s passing through his system as we speak.”

“Continuance granted,” the judge declared without expression. “We’ll hear the details of this case on the twenty-third at 9:30 a.m.”

One firm rap of the gavel punctuated the judgment.

“You are the luckiest broad on earth,” Flannigan cracked as he passed her and walked out the door.

Julianne inwardly acknowledged his statement and lifted the fishbowl to carefully inspect its occupant.

“He called me a broad, Jonah. Are you going to let him talk to me like that?”

When the fish did a quick circle around the inside of the glass bowl, she blew him a kiss and hurriedly gathered her things.

Julianne couldn’t get the vision out of her head. He’d looked like something straight out of the movies, his long black coat flowing behind him as he walked purposefully toward her, the misty haze of rain clouding him into a dreamlike apparition, yet still allowing enough clarity to make out the shadow of stubble along the line of his jaw. And the way that dog looked up at him! Appreciation, admiration, and blessed relief.

“Must love animals as much as I do.” That was the third point on her ten-point mental checklist for her very own Prince Charming!

The only thing that had been missing from their first almost-meeting was slow-motion movie effects, and maybe a soft dissolve as his truck peeled out of the intersection.

“He was like nothing you’ve ever seen before, in person.”

“Well, congratulations,” her best friend and business partner said sourly. “Now can you give me a hand with this?”

Julianne glanced down at the floor where Will peered up at her from beneath the desk, his dark hair rumpled and his brown eyes narrowed as he glared at her. But a spontaneous burst of laughter coughed out of Julianne in retort.

“Go ahead. Laugh it up, Jules,” Will said with a frown. “But my computer’s already hooked up. I could easily leave you without one.”

“No, no, don’t do that,” she replied, gazing first at the end of a computer cable dangling from Will’s extended hand, then at the look of sheer exasperation on his perfect, square-jawed face.

“What do you want me to do with it?” Julianne asked him, taking the cable cautiously into her hand.

“Don’t tempt me with questions like that, Jules,” he said, miming the wrapping of the cable around her neck.

Julianne mouthed an unamused, “Ha ha ha,” and she gently smacked Will’s leg with the cable.

“Run it around the length of the desk, and hand it to me through the opening in the back.”

Julianne did as she was told and, several minutes later, Will emerged from underneath the desk with a victorious grin.

“What are your plans tonight?” he asked her. “A dinner, silent auction, fund-raising effort for dogs, cats, starving armadillos?”

“Very funny. I am completely free tonight. The plight of starving armadillos will have my full attention
tomorrow
.”

“Of course they will,” Will answered with a chuckle.

“And the dogs were last week when you graciously dusted off your tuxedo and accompanied me.”

Will grimaced. “Whatever. You are now up and running, my friend. Once more connected to the planet via the Worldwide Web.” He took Julianne’s outstretched hand and groaned as she tugged him from the floor. “It looks like we’re official. The Law Offices of Hanes & Bartlett, open for business.”

A surge of excitement shot through Julianne. She’d been waiting for this moment since the day she and Will had graduated from law school just five years prior. Today was a banner day, and it deserved some serious celebration.

Will trailed behind as his father and Julianne headed for the kitchen. Being there in his family home again, so much familiarity between his dad and his best friend, Will half expected his mom to bound through the back door, a sack of groceries in her arms and a beaming neon smile on her pretty, suntanned face.