If The Shoe Fits Read online

  © Laura Greenwood 2018

  All rights reserved. This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means – electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording or otherwise- without prior written permission of the published, except as provided by United States of America copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher at “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the email address;

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  Cover Design: Vampari Designs

  Formatting: Gina Formats Words

  Visit Laura Greenwood’s Website at:

  www.authorlauragreenwood.co.uk

  If The Shoe Fits is a work of fiction based on the classic fairy tale of Cinderella. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Contents

  Blurb

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Sweet About Me Excerpt - Prologue

  About the Author

  Also by Laura Greenwood

  Blurb

  Even Cinderella didn’t have it this hard…

  When Sadie goes to the wedding of the century against her step-mother’s wishes, she didn’t expect to be swept off her feet by the groom’s brother.

  Leo is everything she could have dreamed of; charming, handsome, accomplished...the only problem is that he’s also a crown prince...

  Dare Sadie follow her heart?

  Chapter One

  I bit my tongue again, knowing that no matter what I said, my stepmother wouldn't listen. It didn't matter to her that this was the biggest event of the year, nor that everyone who was anyone would be there. The Queen was getting married after all, those kinds of events only happened once in a lifetime.

  "We can get you the most beautiful custom design." My stepmother fussed with Rita's hair, drawing it over her shoulder and smoothing it down.

  "Really, Mama?" she asked, almost jumping up and down in excitement.

  I refrained from rolling my eyes. Rita was...I had no words. She wasn't like anyone I'd ever come across, but it wasn't really her fault. Her mother had married my father and been elevated to landed gentry. Even in the twenty-first century, that meant something.

  "Really, darling. We can get you all the trimmings, everything to catch a Prince."

  "It seems unlikely there'll be a Prince there," I blurted.

  "Tss," my stepmother responded. "Of course, there will be, it's a royal wedding."

  "And if you want to marry her off to someone three times her age, then you're probably on the money." My eyes hardened as I looked at the two of them.

  "Be quiet, you little tramp!"

  A small smile lifted the corners of my lips. It wasn't often my stepmother let her anger show. She was normally very calm and collected. Almost too calm and collected. Personally, I thought it was the Botox. It did funny things to anyone's face.

  "You're going to have to accept the truth at some point," I muttered, turning away and making to go to my room.

  "One more word, young lady...."

  "And what?" I demanded, spinning on my heels. "You'll stop me from going to the wedding? You weren't going to let me go anyway."

  Her lips pursed as she studied me, trying to work out how much effort I was worth. I met her gaze, refusing to give in to her. She wasn't worth my time.

  She looked away first and pride welled up within me. Good.

  "Don't push me, Sadie." The threat in her words should have been menacing, but I'd never known her follow through on it.

  I didn't answer. I had nothing more to say to her. The only reason I was still in this house was because she held my trust fund to ransom and without it, I was dependent. Even with the scholarship I had to study music.

  I could hear her doting on Rita still, but chose to ignore it. My step-sister wasn't a bad person, but she was definitely controlled and that made her my enemy and not a potential ally.

  Not that it mattered. I didn't need to go to the wedding, even if I wanted to. The food would be divine, sure, but standing up on so much ceremony...not so much. The Queen might be young, but she'd shown with her coronation that she would abide by tradition over everyone else.

  "Why are you looking so glum, Sades?"

  I looked over at the outside wall where my best friend, Enrique was leaning and looking as fabulous, and as gay, as ever. Needless to say, Enrique wasn't his real name, but it was the one I used. I'd tried calling him Derek once and the look he gave me could have stopped traffic.

  "The usual."

  "What's she not letting you do now?"

  "Go to the wedding," I replied.

  "You could go anyway. It's not like you won't be on the guest list." He studied his immaculate nails, as if trying to find an imperfection that would ruin his image as a designer.

  "Yes, I'll be on the guest list, but I'm already living in hell, I don't want to make that worse." I also had nothing to wear to an event like that and no money to change that. Or no spare money I should say.

  Enrique raised an eyebrow. "Are you really saying you don't have anything to wear to me?"

  "Just because you're a designer doesn't mean I should expect freebies," I pointed out. As much as I wanted one of his dresses, I'd pay for it when I got one. No way was I cheating my best friend out of hundreds of pounds. That was wrong on so many levels.

  "Not a freebie. A gift."

  "And what would you even get out of it?" I asked.

  "Everyone knows who you are, Sades. You're all over the magazines whenever you step outside the house."

  I scowled, hating how right it was. And hating that it was the very reason my stepmother hated me so. During the early days of her marriage to my Dad, she'd constantly been compared to my dead mother, and by proxy: to me. It had created a lot of bad blood between us that I'd had no control over.

  "Yes, people know who I am, but it doesn't seem to have made much of a difference."

  Enrique ignored me, which was probably for the best. He knew when to indulge me and when to tell me I was being ridiculous. In my eyes, that was a good best friend.

  "What is it that's really annoyed you?" There was a knowing glint in his eyes. Damn him to hell and back.

  "She thinks that Rita is going to catch a Prince at the wedding," I half-shouted, instantly wishing I could pull the words back into me.

  "And that's a problem because..."

  "You've met Rita."

  "Yes, and she's a lovely, if pliable woman. You and I both know she's not all that bad."

  "No, of course she isn't." I began to pace back and forth, something that often ended up being the case when I talked about my step-sister. "But that's not the problem..."

  "I know. It's that your stepmother might be able to control a kingdom. But Sades, the Queen is young and has no son yet. Unless they plan for Rita to seduce Prince Albert, then there really isn't anything to worry about."

  I scoffed. As if Rita could seduce anyone. She'd never seemed like that kind of person really. She wanted people to like her, that was for sure, but she wasn't the femme fatale her mother seemed to think she was.

  "You have nothing to worry about, Sades. Or is this because you want to be the one to catch a Prince?"

  "It would solve my trust fund issues," I po
inted out, not really believing my own words.

  "That it would, but it wouldn't make you happy in the long run."

  "When did you become so wise?" I asked Enrique.

  "They hand out wisdom when you come out the closet," he deadpanned.

  I snorted, a highly unladylike noise, but I couldn't help it. "If that were true, you'd be running the country by now and not just a fashion line."

  "Maybe I'm running a fashion empire." He turned up his nose, making me laugh all the more.

  "Only you could rule an empire like that."

  "Mark my words, Sadie, I'll have a fashion empire one day."

  "I know you will, you already have A-List clientele," I pointed out.

  I'd been with Enrique when he'd started out and seen him blossom from a nobody to being a designer who could almost dress royalty.

  Almost.

  It was his secret dream and if I ever did become royalty, I'd make it my mission to ensure he did.

  "Speaking of my clientele, I need to go do a fitting." He leaped down from the wall he was perched on and pressed a kiss to my forehead. "Don't let them wind you up too much."

  "I'll try."

  "And think about my offer. You can have a dress from me. Shoes too. In fact, I can see the design in my head. I won't take no for an answer."

  "You're going to have to," I countered. "I'm not taking favours."

  "Not a favour, a gift. And mark my words, Sadie, you will take it."

  He didn't wait for me to deny him again but skipped off into the distance.

  I sighed. I had coursework I needed to do, I'd worry about his insistence later.

  Chapter Two

  The TV mumbled on in the background, the noises soothing as I worked on my latest paper. I often found myself working like this, at all hours of the night, but I needed to get a good grade, then I could get a decent job and manage to get away from this hellhole.

  "The wedding of Queen Amara to Prince Albert is happening in just three days, and the country is getting ready to celebrate in style..."

  I looked up as the words caught my attention. I really was intrigued by the Queen, she seemed different from any of our previous rulers. Though I supposed it didn't matter much. She was only the Queen in name and not in power so much. Which was probably a good thing given how some of our previous ones had turned out.

  The reporter continued speaking, but I didn't pay any attention to him. I was too busy staring at the screen. The Queen looked beautiful, as usual. Her husband-to-be, just as handsome. But they weren't who I was looking at. Behind them both stood a man so alluring, I couldn't take my eyes off him. I couldn't even put my finger on what it was, but I could look at him all day. And then some more after that. I needed him. Even if I had no idea of how to get him.

  I shook my head, trying to forget about the man. This was silly. I didn't even know the man's name and yet here I was just staring at him on a TV screen. Something must be seriously wrong with me, and I didn't even dare ask Enrique what he thought it was, though the temptation to text my best friend and ask was extreme.

  The man came towards the screen and a reporter flagged him down.

  "Are you looking forward to the wedding?" someone off-screen asked him.

  "Very much so," he replied, a slight accent colouring his words.

  Something deeper tightened within me. That was an accent I could listen to for days. An accent I almost longed to hear saying my name. Over and over and over...

  "How are you enjoying your visit to England?"

  "It's a wonderful visit, the Queen is a very gracious host and your country is beautiful."

  A diplomat then. Visiting from a far-off land, though he looked European. I couldn't place the accent though. It wasn't strong enough for that. Actually, it almost sounded like Prince Albert's whenever he spoke. Maybe this man was a friend of his, that would explain it.

  And if he was a friend...that meant he'd be going to the wedding.

  I didn't waste another moment. I jumped up from my seat, pacing back and forth as I dialled Enrique's number. The ringing sounds seemed to last forever.

  "Come on, pick up," I muttered.

  "Hello?" He sounded sleepy and guilt welled up within me. I knew Enrique liked his beauty sleep and had a very strict routine which I was now interrupting.

  "I need to go to the wedding," I blurted out, not even greeting him properly. I knew he'd understand though. He was my best friend, we were far beyond the point where we had to make idol pleasantries.

  "Sadie?"

  "Sorry, I have to go. There's a man."

  "Ah, I understand. It's always a man."

  "For you, yes." I laughed.

  "Why, Sadie, are you suggesting I like men?"

  "Suggesting would imply I had no knowledge of that," I teased.

  "Tell me about him."

  "I have nothing to tell," I replied honestly, fiddling with the pages of one of my books. I was glad Enrique couldn't see me, he'd take the piss out of me a little too much.

  "Ah, love at first sight has finally got you in its grips."

  "I wouldn't go that far."

  "But you're willing to go against her wishes and break into the wedding?" He sounded so amused I wanted to smack the smug look from his face. I never would, but that didn't stop the urge.

  "I wouldn't be breaking in," I pointed out.

  "Yes, I know, but breaking in sounds so much more exciting."

  I giggled. "Alright, okay, breaking in it is. But can you help me?"

  "Of course, you can call me your fairy gay-mother."

  "I don't think so," I replied instantly. It wasn't the first time he'd told the joke and I wished he'd stop. It wasn't as amusing as he thought it was.

  "I won't help unless you say it," he countered.

  I sighed. "Please help me, fairy gay-mother?" I crossed my fingers while I waited for his reply.

  "Wish granted. Come down to the studio tomorrow at three."

  "That can't possibly be enough time..."

  "Really? You think I hadn't already planned for this?" he asked.

  I stared at the darkened window, trying to process what he was telling me. He'd planned for me to come asking for his help? I supposed he did know me well enough, but it was still a little shocking.

  "Thank you," I said instead.

  "You're very welcome, Sades. But don't forget you need to tell everyone where you got the dress when you're asked."

  "I'll tell anyone that asks," I promised, hoping that no one who did would recognise my face. I'd need to make sure I hid from all the cameras I could. Not exactly great publicity for Enrique, but he'd understand.

  "Excellent. I'll see you tomorrow, Sades. But now, I need my beauty sleep."

  "Your beauty needs no sleep, Enrique," I teased.

  "That's what you think."

  "Good night."

  "Night, Sades."

  The end call beep sounded, and I dropped the phone to the table. I let out a deep breath. I was grateful for the best friend I had. Without him, this really wouldn't be possible.

  I had a man to meet. Hopefully he'd live up to my expectations.

  Chapter Three

  Enrique's studio was as immaculately clean and polished as always. I'd never tell him as much, but I found it almost intimidating to be here. The women he had working for him were always so business like and went about their jobs as if there was nothing else they could think of. And maybe there wasn't. Enrique had once told me that fashion wasn't a choice, it was part of his blood. Maybe that was the same for the people he employed.

  I hoped so. That would make them loyal and hardworking, two things he truly deserved from his staff.

  "Sadie! You actually came." He flounced over to me and kissed both cheeks, leaving me a little dazed and bemused. He was always flamboyant, he had been for as long as I'd known him, but this was more than usual. Almost as if he had a different personality for his studio than for his private life. Maybe that was true. It did make
sense in some respects.

  "Of course, I came." I flashed him a quick smile. "I promised you I would."

  "Wow, that man must really have gotten under your skin."

  "No teasing," I scolded. "Please?"

  "But what are friends for if not to tease?" he tried.

  "Being kind?"

  "I will be, when that's what you need me to be. But right now, I don't think it is. I've never seen you this interested in a man before, Sades. Not even..."

  "Don't say his name," I hissed, not wanting to give any more thought to my ex than I had to. He was in my past and I would never say his name.

  "Sorry. Champagne?" Enrique offered.

  "No thank you, I'd rather not drink this early in the day."

  "Studying to do?"

  "Always."

  "You're so serious, Sadie. I'm glad you're taking this chance to go after something for you." He brushed a strand of my loose hair out of my way. I could tell from his tone that he was serious, he really was glad I wanted to do something for me now and not for the future.

  "I may be a fool for doing so. Don't forget she has banned me from attending."

  "And she will eat her words when she sees how beautiful you're going to be at the reception. It is the reception you're planning on going to, right?" His eyes widened, probably because he was worried about having designed an outfit for the wrong occasion.

  "Yes, the reception." I smiled at him. "The wedding itself will have too many people and too many cameras." Plus, I doubted I'd have an invite. I might technically be gentry, but I wasn't high enough up the pecking order to have a seat in the church. One day I would be. But through my own merits, not the title I technically inherited when my father died.