My Sister's Shoes (Little Black Box, Book 1) (4 page)

Adrienne eyes flashed in such a way Allie knew she had been wrong.
Damn it!
Now she knew she was really left with a big fat nothing. Allie quickly tried to make a save. “Not that I opened it. Not yet anyway. I will when I am ready, and I’m sure it will be great.”

Adrienne narrowed her eyes at her. “Hmm. You’re acting stranger than usual, Allie.” She took a swig of her coffee. “You know, Allie, you should really start exercising. You’re getting a little wide around the middle. Not that the folks at Longwood care.” And Adrienne sashayed out of the kitchen.

* * * *

The Upper East Side was a far cry from her West Side digs. Not that she’d ever live in either area after she became a nurse. Manhattan would be a memory and a train ride away. Allie searched her cell phone for the original text from Longwood and came up empty.
What the hell?
Deciding to call, she hit the contact options on her iPhone when the text reappeared.
That was strange.
She noted the apartment number and put her cell phone away.

At the desk she informed a very stately-looking gentleman named Henry that the resident in apartment Twelve C was expecting her. “Just one moment, madam.”

“Sure.” Allie looked around. The pre-war building was beautifully preserved, and apartment Twelve C must have a great view of the Hudson River. As she stared at the overly-waxed marble floor, she thought about Angelo.
What was that all about? If it wasn’t Adrienne, then who? And why?
Her thoughts were interrupted by the doorman. “You may go up, madam.”

“Thanks, Henry.” He scowled at her.
Tightwad.

Allie was directed toward the elevator. Once inside, she applied fresh lipstick and shook out her long, wavy hair. She hadn’t overdressed, but wanted to look neat. Under her mid-length commuter trench coat, she wore dark denim jeans with boots and a white blouse. She added a pair of gold, dangling earrings and her usual makeup, which consisted of very little.

The elevator doors opened to a small hallway with old wooden floors. There were old-fashioned numbers on each unit. After Allie knocked on apartment door Twelve C, she smoothed her hands over her coat and straightened her posture. When the door opened to reveal Mr. Zach Brady, she froze. His smile said he was expecting her, and he greeted her warmly. “Hi, Allison. I’m so glad you’re here. Come in. Please.”

Allie stood inside the small alcove leading into Zach’s apartment. She struggled to understand what was going on. “Can I take your coat?” he said.

“Sure—yes, of course.” Allie watched him size her up as she untied the belt on her coat. Slipping it off her shoulders, she handed it to him.

“Oh—I should have told the service I don’t require you to wear a uniform. Follow me.”

“Uniform?” Allie took a step and froze as she looked at her reflection in the hallway mirror. To her horror, she wore a white smock-like jacket with long, pink sleeves and dark pants. Her shoes looked like black clogs any old man would proudly wear to a bocce game. Her hair was pulled back and pinned at the side with a bobby pin.
A bobby pin?
She was dreaming. She had to be dreaming, and she needed to wake up. Allie looked down at her arm and pinched herself. When that didn’t work, she slapped her cheek. Hard.

“Are you okay? Do you want to call the police on yourself? Because, if I’m not mistaken—that’s assault.” He chuckled at his own humor.

“Uh … do you have a powder room I can use?”

Zach furrowed his brow and pointed her to the hallway bathroom without uttering another word.

Allie immediately dropped the top on the toilet and sat down. She placed her head between her knees and took a few deep breaths. Once she calmed herself, she got up and ran cold water on her wrists and splashed some on her face for the hell of it. As she looked in the mirror at her reflection, she mentally ran through her morning activities. Did her tea have more than tea leaves in it? Was she hallucinating? By the look and feel of her uniform, she wasn’t. But when she spotted the insignia on the jacket, her eyes widened in shock. Grabbing the material, she pulled the lapel closer to the mirror. Written in calligraphy, it said, “Little Tutu’s Cleaning Sprites.” Allie growled through her teeth, “Angelo!”

In seconds, he appeared, “Yes?”

Allie screamed in fright.

“Ssh. He’ll hear you,” he whispered.

She turned the water on full blast to drown out her angry whispers. “What do you think you’re doing? What is this? What kind of drug did you give me?”

“Hold on a minute, sweet thing. I don’t do drugs. I’m more the ‘just say no’ type of guy. Actually, I—”

“Shut up! You’ve got some explaining to do, or so help me Angelo, or whatever your name is, you’ll be wearing a permanent tutu and singing soprano for the rest of your days.”

“Okay, okay. Calm down. It’s simple really. I am your fairy godmother, and I’m here to help you achieve happiness.”

“By putting me in a maid uniform wearing clogs and a bobby pin? That’s your plan?”

“Y-Yes.”

“Okay. I need to speak with your manager or something. This is not the way to make me happy. You have no idea what—”

A knock startled her. “Are you okay in there? You have me kind of worried out here.”

“Oh. I’m fine really. I-I was just finishing up, I had a big breakfast.” She slapped her hand to her forehead.
Holy fuck!

She looked around and Angelo was gone. She realized she had no other choice than to make the best of it for now and deal with that oversized biker fairy later on.

Zach Brady was waiting when Allie stepped out of the bathroom. His expression showed his apprehension, but it quickly changed to one of concern. “You okay? Really, you seem a little shaken up.”

“I’m fine, Mr. Brady.”
I just had a little spat with a sprite!
She forced a smile. “Now, let’s get down to business. How can I help you?”

“Right. Well, besides the usual clean up, I wonder if I can convince you to give me your specialty?”

“My specialty? I don’t suppose you were told what that was when you scheduled me?”

“I’ve got to confess, Allison, I was calling my old service when, by some strange reason, I happened to get your company. Since I knew who you were, I thought, why not?” He shrugged his shoulders.

Allie nodded her head in understanding. “Of course. Do you know who you spoke with?”

“Not sure. I felt foolish asking since I made the call. Some dude with a really deep voice.”

“That would be … Gweneviere. Do you know he once dreamed of becoming a dancing sprite on Broadway?”

His brows drew together. “A sprite? Really?”

“Go figure.”

“I guess that explains the name of the company.”

“Yep. You gotta turn broken dreams into something, I suppose.”

“So, do you think you could give me what I want?”

Anytime, anywhere!

Zach walked over to a set of doors and threw them open. “It would be out here.” The cool wind rushed inside, tickling her skin and raising goose bumps on her arms. Allie rushed to the terrace. “Your view of the river is amazing. And the sun hits this terrace so perfectly.”

“I was thinking about a flower garden out here with a few potted trees. I want a place that can take me away from the city, even when I’m still here. Do you think you can do it?”

“I—well—I—” She watched his smile slowly fade.

“Gweneviere led me to believe you were amazing with flowers. I will compensate you for the extra time, of course. I will give you access to my place on your schedule. It’s … well … I just started dating Adrienne Chadwick, and she loves flowers. I thought this would be a great way to impress her.”

“Adrienne Chadwick?”
She’d have a bar and a lounge chair on this terrace in a flash.

“Yes. She’s really great, but I’m sure you know that.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Did you know she was studying to be a hospice nurse before she came into all her money? She still volunteers locally. I’m looking forward to getting to know her.”

Allie was suddenly infuriated.
How dare she pretend to be me!
“And her looks have nothing to do with it, huh? Just the size of her heart, you say?”

He smiled. “It’s the package, Allison. The whole package.”

“Mmm. Listen, Mr. Brady, I will help you, but you must promise never to tell Miss Chadwick you hired me. Don’t even bring up my name, okay?”

“Deal. Thank you, Allison. With your help, I’ll have Miss Chadwick right where I want her.”

So will I.
They clasped hands and shook on it.

Allie paced her bedroom. “Angelo! I’m warning you. You better show your face, or I’ll come to Mulberry Street and hunt you down like the dog you are.”

“Take it easy, sugar. I was in a bath. Besides, you need a little cooling off for that Gweneviere crack.” Startled by his quick appearance, she watched him lean his buttocks against her window sill. His wet hair brushed his wide shoulders, sending droplets of water traveling down between his pectorals, over his defined abdomen, and disappearing beneath the thick towel he wrapped around his waist. His olive skin glistened, and she could smell his fresh ocean scent. Allie pinched herself, but he was still there. “Fairies take baths?”

“Does a witch fly on a broomstick?”

She cocked her head and then shook it. “What am I going to do? I know nothing about plants. I have a black thumb.” She motioned her hands up and down the length of her body. “There is nothing green. Anywhere.”

“Don’t worry. Do you panic like this every time you have a dilemma?”

Allie faced him with her hands on her hips. “No. I have a problem when my fairy godmother, who, by the way, looks like he could be the leader of a gang, likes to play dress up by putting me in a servant’s uniform and throwing me to the wolves.”

“If it were my game, that wouldn’t have been the maid uniform I’d pick.”

“Great. I get the sarcastic godmother. Is there a way to trade you in?”

Angelo let out a loud sigh and pushed off the window sill. He got closer to her. “My job is to point you toward a happily ever after. It’s not to solve your problems or give you a quick fix for an already fucked up life. Got it?”

Allie crinkled her forehead and slowly shook her head. “I’m sorry, but I’m still questioning whether you’re real or if I’m in the midst of some psychotic break.”

He pulled her into his arms and tucked her head under his chin. “Does this feel real?”

She felt his heart beating against her and relaxed into his embrace. She let out a soft sigh. “Umm, yes,” she whispered. “You feel real. Can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot.”

“Is Angelo your real name?”

“No.”

She lifted her head and looked deep into his eyes. He gave her a half-smile and held her stare. She felt her muscles loosen and the stress drain from her fingertips. She leaned into him, pressing her breasts against his bare chest, and held him tighter. “I hadn’t noticed before, but the color of your eyes are the most beautiful I’ve ever seen. The green is just—” and before Allie could finish her sentence, Angelo was gone. She looked around her empty bedroom. Either this was really happening, or she was going completely crazy.

* * * *

Allie helped herself to a cup of tea and thought about her situation. What were the rules? No money or love? But isn’t that what brings happiness? Allie watched Adrienne wander into the kitchen and gave her a nod of acknowledgement while she chatted on her cell phone. Excitedly she said, “I am going to the event of the year because on opening night I will get Zach to ask me to be his escort. I have a plan. I know! I’m so happy. I need to shop for the perfect gown to go with my crystal-embellished Manolo Blanicks.”
She is so sickening!
And in that moment an idea formed. Allie rushed back to her bedroom. She had to speak to Angelo right away.

*

Angelo held up Allie’s eyelash curler and examined it while she drummed her fingers on her dressing table. “What the hell is this contraption?” he asked.

“It’s an eyelash curler, and you’re not helping.”

“What does it do?”

“Uh. It’s self-explanatory.” She grabbed it from his hand, applied it to her eyelashes, and squeezed.

Angelo sucked in a breath through his clenched teeth. “You could cut them off that way, no?”

“No. It’s not a blade. Angelo, will you get serious? I called you here to talk about a plan.”

He couldn’t help but admire her spunk. She was very beautiful, only she didn’t know it, and she was funny in a moody sort of way too. Frustrated with her lack of self-confidence, he crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes at her. “Just say what it is you want, Allie. It’s why I’m here. What will make you happy?” For some odd reason, she fidgeted in her seat. She wouldn’t raise her eyes and looked away when she spoke. “Okay. I want Zach Brady.”

He slowly closed his eyes and blew out a breath. The hope he had that she would ask for something different was dashed. “I can’t do love, sugar. I told you that.”

“No, I know. I was hoping for … well…”

“Spit it out, Allie, and stop acting like a child.”

“You’re annoyed with me?”

“Yes—no. Just tell me what it is. I haven’t got all night.”

“Well, excuse me. I didn’t realize fairies were so damn busy,” she said sarcastically. “Since you’re in such a rush, I’ll be blunt. I want Zach to choose me over Adrienne. I want to be on his arm for his opening night on Broadway. I want to be in the shoes that were meant for Adrienne and for him to see her for what she truly is. Most of all, I want Adrienne to squirm with jealousy.”

He ran his fingers through his hair and tried hard not to show his disappointment in her. He pegged her for someone who wouldn’t stoop to this low, but he was wrong. She was just like everyone else. “You are acting like a petulant child, but if that’s what’s gonna bring you your happiness, then fine. But you need to work at it. I can’t snap my fingers and make it happen. It doesn’t work like that. I happen to know Mr. Brady has a taste for seafood. We’ll start there.”

“Well, I know how to cook.” She beamed.