If The Shoe Fits Page 2
"Excellent." He stepped back and clapped his hands. "A glass of water for the Lady Sadie," he instructed one of his workers. The woman nodded and rushed off to the kitchenette.
"What have I done?" I muttered.
"Made the best decision of your life," he answered. "Now, this way, let's get you all sorted."
He whisked me off to one of the fitting rooms. Despite him being my best friend, I'd never actually been in one before. I'd refused all his attempts to give me clothing, I didn't feel it was right for me to take advantage of him like that. Not when his time could be better spent on a dress or outfit that could bring him thousands instead of nothing.
"It's beautiful," I said, taking in the soft pastel blue shades and the crazy big mirrors that filled the place.
"It is. Calming and beautiful. Plus, you have the honour of being dressed by the designer himself." He threw his hands up as if to exaggerate his point.
I laughed, letting my true amusement shine. Enrique had the ability to lighten up any situation. I loved him for that, and for the other things he brought into my life. It truly would be a darker place without him.
"Do most of your clients not get this treatment?" I teased.
"Most are uncomfortable about me being a man." A sadness crept into his tone that I could only hear because I knew him so well. And because he was willing to let his guard down around me.
I reached out and placed a comforting hand on his arm, giving it a squeeze. "I'm sorry, Enrique. If they don't want you and your attention to detail, then that's on them and not you."
"I know." He shrugged, the sadness shadowing his face disappearing in an instant. "But that's not why we're here. Strip," he instructed me.
I smiled at him, complying instantly. It wasn't like he hadn't seen me in my underwear before, and I knew he wasn't interested in me like that in the slightest. As far as I knew, and he told me most things, he'd never even kissed a woman, nor had the inclination to.
"Have you been eating right?" Concern created little lines between his eyebrows. "You're looking too skinny."
"You're a designer, I didn't think there was such a thing as too skinny," I responded, cracking a smile. Mostly so I could cover up the guilt that I hadn't been. I'd had too much studying to do recently and hadn't paid as much attention to my eating habits as I should do.
He growled, deep in his throat. "This world's ideals of beauty aren't ones I wish to adhere to. You're too skinny, Sades. Please eat more?"
"I'll try," I promised.
"Good. Now, dress." He circled his finger in the air, asking me to turn.
Slowly, I did so, a gasp escaping me as I took in the dress he'd designed for me. My hand flew to my mouth, the shock not having worn off.
"Enrique..."
"Beautiful, right?"
"It's stunning, but you can't waste this one me. This dress is..."
"Fit for a Queen. I know. But how else am I to win one over to my client list?" He smirked, a smugness coming over him. I did have to admit it was a genius idea. All he had to do was catch the right person's eye and I'd be uniquely placed to do so.
Not even thinking about just being in my underwear, I stepped towards the dress, longing to touch it. The fabric was a soft blue. It was pale, but not pale enough to be mistaken for white. An important touch given I'd be attending a wedding reception. The fabric seemed to glitter in the light. I ran the fabric through my fingers, discovering it was littered with small crystals.
"Enrique, this is too much."
"No, it's really not." He handed me a collection of underskirts. "Put these on."
Second nature took over, and I slipped into the garments. Experience taught me not to ignore Enrique's requests, but even so, the dress was far too much for me. I couldn't accept it.
I also knew that I would.
"This dress is everything we both need it to be." He unzipped the back of it, slipping it from the mannequin and lifting it with surprising ease. He was stronger than he looked, that thing must have been heavy.
"I..."
"Arms up," he instructed. "You need it to attract the man who has your attention. I need it to attract anyone in the market for a new designer. And this dress, on you, will do just that."
"You have a lot of faith," I muttered, doing exactly what he'd requested and holding my hands in the air.
He drew it down my body, his hands never touching my skin. He was respectful and reverent. Though the latter was probably more to do with the dress than with me.
I held my breath as he finished closing the zipper. I'd already seen myself in the mirror and it was almost impossible for me to believe the figure standing in front of me was...well, me.
A tear pooled in the corner of my eye. Which was stupid. All that was happening was me seeing myself in a pretty dress.
"You really will be the belle of the ball."
"I look like Cinderella," I murmured.
"But far more beautiful," Enrique agreed. "It fits perfectly," he noted.
I stifled a laugh. "Just as you expected it to, no doubt."
"Of course, I have your measurements on my files after all. I must thank you for that at some point."
"I think this dress is thanks enough," I responded, unable to tear my gaze away from the mirror.
"I've pulled in a couple of favours too. You'll have jewellery and shoes to match the dress."
"No handbag?" I joked. "But thank you, you really didn't need to do that."
I tore my gaze away, so I could turn to face him. The sincerity in his gaze said it all.
"You don't need to thank me, Sadie. You're my best friend. You've encouraged me in my dream from the very start. How can I not help you in your hour of need?"
"Still, I need you to know I appreciate it."
"Sadie, some things in life you don't do for any other reason than it's the right thing, or that it makes you happy. Those things don't need thanks."
I know they don't need it, but you deserve it."
He smiled, pride evident in his every move.
"It really is a shame you won't be able to wear a tiara. That really would make this outfit perfect."
I laughed in response, turning back to the mirror to study myself again. He was right, a tiara would complete the Princess look, even without my hair and makeup being done. But I wasn't Rita. A crown wasn't something I wanted or needed. There were far more important things in life.
"I need to find a bag to match," I observed.
"Not at all. You have pockets." He stepped towards me and touched the side of my dress. "Three of them. Here, here and here." He pointed them out as he spoke.
"You really are a genius." Pockets. The thing most women’s clothing missed. It would make carrying things a hell of a lot easier.
"One is for a pair of ballet flats I have for you. They're lightweight, so they won't weigh down your dress while you're dancing, but if you need to make a quick getaway, they'll help."
"Thank you, you really have thought of everything."
"Stop thanking me, Sades. I don't need it. All I want is for you to go to the reception and shine."
I bit my tongue to stop myself from thanking him again. Damn that British upbringing and the intense need to be polite. We exchanged a look which conveyed the true love we felt for one another. A love that only best friends could have for one another. I really had gotten lucky with him. I hoped he felt the same way with me.
Chapter Four
The lights around the palace sparkled in hundreds of colours, creating a magic atmosphere that I couldn't have ever imagined if I'd tried. I didn't know how they'd created it, nor what it cost, but the effect was striking.
If I was having a royal wedding, then this was the kind of thing I'd have. I'd not watched the ceremony on TV, I hadn't wanted to see my dream man with another woman, and that was always going to be a risk.
I walked boldly up to the entrance, knowing that my nerves would only get me refused entrance. Despite my stepmother's insistence
, I had every right to be here. I was a Lady whether anyone liked it or not.
"Lady Sadie Parker," I told the man at the door.
"Greetings, my Lady, welcome to Her Majesty's Reception."
I dipped my head in acknowledgement and slipped through the doors. A guard was there, asking women to open their bags and frisking the men. I sighed. Such a thing shouldn't be a necessity, but in this day and age, the safety of the royal family was too important to risk anyone coming in with the means to draw blood.
Passing by without being searched thanks to Enrique's clever pockets, I made my way into the ballroom.
A gasp escaped me as I took in the sight. Everyone was dressed to the nines in an array of colours. The Queen and her new husband were sat on a raised dais, talking to another man, the three of them laughing jovially and like they'd known each other for years. She looked happy, and a pang of jealousy spread through me. What I wouldn't give to have that much joy in my life. To have that much happiness. I suppressed it quickly enough. It wasn't fair to begrudge the Queen this. She deserved to have a man who loved her as much as anyone else.
"Excuse me," an angry voice said as a woman barged past me. It took me a couple of moments to realise it was my stepmother and for panic to begin to well up inside me. I couldn't let her see me, not this soon into the evening. It would ruin all of my plans and all of my hopes.
Rita pushed past behind her, muttering her apologies to the other people being pushed out of the way. She looked back over her shoulder to reassure an elderly man who'd been knocked to the side.
Her eyes caught mine and they widened in realisation. That wasn't good. I couldn't have her telling her mother.
"Please?" I mouthed, hoping the one word was enough.
To my surprise, Rita lifted her finger to her lips and made the shh-ing motion. Hopefully that meant she'd keep my secret. At least, for now. But after the party was over, there wasn't any harm my stepmother could do. All I'd done was sneak out of our home, and she never explicitly forbid me to leave. She didn't give me enough thought for that.
"Thank you," I mouthed.
"You're welcome," she returned, neither of us making a sound.
Affection I didn't know I felt for her blossomed within me. Maybe after this we could actually be friends. It wouldn't be a bad thing after all.
"Please clear the dance floor for the bride and groom!" someone called.
A titter of excitement travelled through the crowd, and I totally understood it. I wanted to see this as much as anyone.
On the dais, Prince Albert rose to his feet and offered the Queen his hand. She beamed at him and took it, getting out of her own chair so the two of them could make their way down to the dance floor.
Classical music began to play, and the Prince drew his new wife into his arms. I couldn't tell what they were saying, but it was clear from both of their faces that they were exchanging sweet nothings as they danced. I hoped I could find that one day.
A second couple joined them in the dance and I glanced around, longing to see the man from the TV. I secretly wanted him to ask me to dance and even considered being so forward as to ask him if I found him. I didn't want to waste the opportunity which Enrique had given me. Not in this dress, with these shoes.
"May I have this dance?" a handsome man asked. But not my man.
Even so, it would be rude to say no and suspicious if I did.
"Of course."
He held out his hand and I took it. He drew me to the dance floor and into a hold.
"May I know your name?" I asked him. His suit suggested he was one of the wedding party, but not having watched it, I didn't know for sure.
"Vincent. And yours?"
"Sadie."
"You're not at Court much, are you?" He seemed curious and not lecherous, which was a nice combination. I didn't feel like he expected anything from me other than a dance.
"No, I don't attend Her Majesty at Court," I replied evenly.
"Because you don't want to, or for a more sinister reason?" he inquired.
I laughed lightly. "You don't even know that I'm qualified to come to Court."
"Please, you have gentry written all over you. And you look like the previous Lady Parker."
A blush rose to my cheeks. I loved the idea of him comparing me to my mother. It was a true honour.
"You appear to have caught me."
"Indeed."
"I don't recognise you either," I pointed out.
"I'm the Queen's closest adviser," he replied evenly. "A position which lets me know of a lot of things happening in this Court."
I nodded. "Must be an interesting position to work in."
"You could say that." A smirk lifted the side of his lips, making me wonder what it was all about. I felt a little like I was missing some kind of joke.
I let it drop. I had no interest in court gossip. There was no need for it in the life I lived.
We danced the rest of the steps in silence and I enjoyed the skill and grace with which he did so. It had been a long time since I'd been to a proper function and I'd forgotten the advantages of dancing with someone else who'd learned from an early age.
A lot of people thought this kind of event and education was a thing of the past, but in the private school rooms and parties, it was the norm.
The music ended and the two of us stepped apart. We bowed to one another.
"Thank you for the dance, Lady Parker. I look forward to seeing more of you at Court."
"And you," I replied politely, though I doubted I'd be returning after this.
I rose from my bow, only just noticing then that my stepmother was just across from me. I panicked slightly, not wanting to move too quickly and draw attention to myself, but also not wanting to stay where she could spot me so easily. I wasn't one to play with fire unless I had to.
"You appear to be missing a dance partner," a smooth male voice came from behind me.
I turned as gracefully as I could and took in the man looking at me with a slight edge of hunger in his eyes.
It was him.
The man I was here for.
Without thinking about it, I dipped another bow and held out my arms for him to take. Within seconds, he took up my offer and drew me into the steps of another dance.
He moved with such amazing grace that I had to assume he was as high born as I was. Unless he was a dancer anyway. But given his attire, I doubted that. His suit matched Vincent's perfectly with one exception. His sash was purple rather than red.
He didn't say a word as we danced, and neither did I. We didn't need to, there was something magical about this that transcended words and became something else. It felt to me like that final moment in a fairy tale. It was certainly magical in a way that had nothing to do with weddings and everything to do with the man whose arms I danced in.
The song ended, and he instantly tugged me into the next one, not letting go and not asking me if he could. I leaned into him, letting our bodies brush against each other. He didn't pull back at all, implying he really was okay with what I was doing. Maybe he found me just as intriguing as I found him. But I doubted it. I was nothing special, while he was...special. Or more than special. It was hard to be able to put words to it, but there was something pulling me towards him and making me not want to ignore him.
I should really ask him for his name.
Chapter Five
The man pulled me away from the dance floor and towards one of the balconies around the edge. The cool air hit us as we stepped onto one and I sighed in relief. I hadn't realised how hot I'd become from the dancing and appreciated the chance to cool off.
"I must know your name," the man murmured, his voice low and intimate.
"Sadie," I answered instantly, sounding breathless, but I didn't even care. If he knew how he was affecting me, then he would know he could do something about it.
"I'm Leo," he offered, keeping his voice low.
His hand rested on the small of my back. I leaned i
nto his touch, feeling it burn through the thin material of my dress.
"Are you enjoying the wedding?" I asked, knowing I still needed to be polite.
"Do you really care?"
The lilt of the accent in his voice sent thrills through me. I hoped he'd talk to me more.
"Of course, it's my Queen's wedding. Didn't you know that caring is mandatory?" I fluttered my eyelashes, but he didn't notice, he was too busy laughing.
"Are you so attentive at all royal functions? I might need to attend more."
"I'm afraid not," I replied.
"Pity."
He reached out and hooked a loose strand of blonde hair behind my ear. I closed my eyes and a tiny moan slipped from me. I hoped he hadn't caught that.
"Where are you from, Leo?" I asked.
"Belgium," he answered instantly. "How did you know?" There was an ever so slight hint of panic in his voice, but I pushed any concerns to the side. It was probably just nerves.
"You have a slight accent."
Relief crashed over his face and I wondered what secret I'd nearly uncovered. I didn't ask. I was hiding secrets of my own, it wasn't fair of me to decide he wasn't allowed them too. Besides, I didn't need to know his innermost thoughts. That wasn't why I was here. In Enrique's words, I was here to have a bit of fun.
"Are you enjoying England?"
"Are you a politician?" he asked sharply.
"No!" I protested. "I study music."
"What kind?"
"History."
"Music history?" he mused.
"Yes, it's a real thing," I snapped.
"I've no doubt it is. It's just a strange choice for such a beautiful woman."
"Hardly," I protested.
"Do you play?"
"Yes. The cello." Pride welled up within me. No matter what he said, I was proud of my education and my talent. I wasn't quite good enough to get into any of the symphonic orchestras, but I certainly wasn't talentless.
"What are you planning on doing with your studies?" He pulled me closer to him and away from the door to the ballroom.