If the Shoe Fits (32 page)

“I don’t hate you,” Julianne repeated. “You just …
bother me
. It’s like something out of my control. I try to tolerate you, Lacey, I really do. But it’s like a chemical reaction. I just can’t help myself.”

Lacey looked up at Julianne with a serious expression and asked, “Could you try?”

“Can you try to stop insulting me all the time?”

“I can try.”

“And stop taking every possible opportunity to embarrass me in front of other people? Especially Will?”

“I can do that.”

Julianne didn’t know what to say to that. She hadn’t expected Lacey to make any concessions whatsoever.

“And you’ll try to stop insulting me?” Lacey asked her. “Stop taking every opportunity to embarrass me in front of others?
Especially Will?
”

Julianne laughed. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you call him Will. It almost sounded strange.”

“Tonight means a lot to me. I know you think it’s the most ridiculous idea since colored nail polish, but the fact is … I really like him, and I’d like to see if there’s any chance of a future with him, Julie.” She glared at Lacey until she recanted. “
Julianne
.”

She smiled. “Was that so hard? It’s my name.”

“Truce?”

Lacey extended her hand, and Julianne stared at it for a moment before she took it. “Fine. Truce.”

Grinning from one ear to the other, Lacey shook her hand with vigor.

“But don’t make me regret it.”
And Lord, please help me!

Thirty minutes later, Julianne drove home wondering if she’d fallen asleep under the lull of a gentle foot massage and dreamed the most outrageous dream where lions lay down with lambs, dogs and cats played together, where she and Lacey James had come to an understanding.

“Hi, Paul,” she stated after dialing his number at the stoplight on Winton and Sharon Roads. “Just wanted to leave a little reminder about tonight. Arrive at my place by seven?” She swallowed and inhaled sharply before adding, “Please, please don’t cancel, Paul. Okay. I’ll see you then.”

The moment she walked through the front door, Phoebe gasped and hopped up from the sofa wearing the formal black dress she’d found at the vintage shop Julianne had pointed her toward. Her hair didn’t match the sight at all, pushed into several directions with clips, her face devoid of even a speck of makeup.

“Julianne?”

Laughing, she replied, “Yes, Phoebe. It’s me.”

“Your makeup! You look … Can you do that on me?”

“Probably not. It took a village.”

Phoebe giggled. “Well, you look so beautiful. I love the hair.”

“You don’t think it’s a little too … electric shock?”

She belted out another laugh. “No. It’s lovely, really.” Then she added, “I made some snacks. Want to join me? It’s a big night for you. The protein will do you good.”

Julianne lifted her shoulder and one hand. “Duh. Whatcha got?”

“Ham and cheese roll-ups,” she said as she stepped out of the dress to reveal a tank top and jeans underneath. “Some strawberries, a little hummus.”

“Did you raid someone else’s refrigerator?” she asked as she followed Phoebe into the kitchen and climbed up on one of the stools. “The neighbors don’t like that.”

“I went shopping,” she replied as she slid several plates to the counter. “It’s really a miracle you’re not malnourished the way you eat.”

“I think that’s why my mom and Davis insist on us coming to dinner over there once or twice a week. Just to make sure I’m not eating moldy cheese and outdated peanut butter from the jar.”

“Now that I’ve gotten to know you better, I understand.”

Julianne’s phone jingled, and she dug it out of her purse as she stuffed a small strawberry into her mouth and quickly swallowed it.

She looked at the caller ID and told Phoebe, “It’s Veronica Caswell.” Wondering about a phone call from a client so late on a Saturday afternoon, she answered quickly. “Veronica. How are you?”

“I’m terrible, Julianne. I’m sorry to call you on a Saturday, but I need your help.”

She wondered if she might be asleep and dreaming
as a beautiful glass carriage appeared
,
drawn by four magnificent white horses
.
“How can this be?” she exclaimed
.

“You can’t very well go to the ball on foot,”
her fairy friend said with a twinkle
.

Julianne stood in
the open doorway, willing her mouth to close. She couldn’t seem to help it. Paul looked so exquisite in his tuxedo that her jaw had dropped open when she saw him, and it took a few seconds before she could manage to crank it shut.

“You came!” she exclaimed.

“I said I would.”

“Do you want to come in, or just … be on our way?”

“You didn’t tell me there would be wheels,” he stated, nodding toward the street where a long white limousine hugged the curb. “I don’t think we should keep the driver waiting.”

“Oh,” she said, craning her neck to get a better look. “Sorry to disappoint, but I don’t think that’s for us.”

“Yeah, it is. The driver told me so. Your friend Suzanne arranged it.”

“What! Phoebe, there’s a limo out front,” she called. “Do you want to ride with us?”

“A limo?” she said, poking her head around the corner. “Really?”

“Suzanne sent it.”

“She really is your fairy godmother, isn’t she?” Julianne chuckled. “I guess she is.”

“Your mom called and asked me to be her date,” Phoebe said. “I’m picking her up in half an hour. Hey, do you have the paperwork?”

Julianne grabbed it from the table by the door. “Got it. Did you arrange for the messenger to meet me at the hotel?”

“They’ll be there at eight o’clock.”

“Excellent.”

Paul grimaced as Julianne tucked the paperwork under her arm, grabbed her purse, and headed out the door.

“You’re doing business at this thing?” he inquired.

“I have a client in some trouble. I’m just trying to help without missing the gala.”

The driver appeared out of nowhere and opened the limousine door, standing next to it like a uniformed sentry.

“You look enchanting,” he told Julianne, and she thanked him, wondering why Paul hadn’t been the one to compliment her.

Once they settled on the long bench seat, Paul turned to her and smiled. “Speaking of doing business at the gala,” he said, and he raised his eyebrows. When she didn’t grasp the meaning, he finished the thought. “Are you going to pay me up front, or afterward?”

Julianne’s heart thudded at the question.

“I thought I could write you a check when we get back home. Is that all right?”

“I guess so,” he conceded. “Okay.”

She started to ask if he wanted her to get cash from the ATM instead, but she lassoed the sarcasm before it popped out. A good thing, too, because she feared he might have taken her up on it.

Despite the fact that she made him think of a plantation owner’s daughter heading for the cotillion, Will had to admit that Lacey looked rather beautiful.

“Pretty in pink,” he told her when she opened the front door and grinned at him.

“Really?” she asked, and he realized it might have been the first time he sensed real insecurity in her.

“You’re stunning, Lacey.”

She sighed. “You too, William.”

“Ready to go?”

“Let me just get my wrap.”

Who talks like that?
he remembered Julianne asking him once when she’d used a similar word; he couldn’t remember which one.

He took the silky shawl from her and placed it around her shoulders as they stepped off the columned porch and followed the stone walk toward his car. He imagined every day was a little like coming home to Tara for Lacey, and he smiled at the thought. His buddy Wyatt Benson, the son of one of the partners of his old firm Benson & Benhurst, hailed from Atlanta, and his home had that southerly mark upon it as well. In fact, Lacey and Wyatt might make a pretty good pair, now that he thought about it.

As Lacey slipped her arm through his and grinned up at him, Will realized she might not be as open to the pairing as he would hope.

Once they’d settled into his car and gotten under way, Lacey turned to him and said, “I want to thank you for escorting me tonight, William.”

“Back atcha,” he replied. “I’m happy to have a date.”

“You decided not to invite your Alison?”

Where in the world had she heard about Alison?

“Alison and I split up.”

He didn’t have to glance over to feel the flood of light emitted from her smile.

“It’s just as well. I’m not interested in a relationship at the moment.” Surely that would get his point across.

“No?”

“Lucky for me I have such pretty female friends willing to fill in the gap for me on nights like this one.”

Oh yeah. That one took root. The glow of her smile dimmed considerably.

To lessen the burden of his proclamation, he eased to a stop at the light before he smiled at Lacey and touched her hand. “Thank you, Lace. Your friendship means a lot to me.”

“And you don’t think you could ever see your way clear, somewhere down the line, for it to be more than friendship between us, William?”

Straightforward
. And he knew he owed it to her to reciprocate.

“I’m sorry,” he told her gently. “I really don’t.”

“I see.”

Her disappointment choked him a little, but he knew from his experience with Holly that honesty now rather than heartbreak later was the way to go.

He offered Lacey his arm, and they walked into the ballroom, already teeming with people. One of them caught his attention in such a way that Will found it difficult to breathe.

Julianne looked like a contemporary princess in an ice-blue dress with a sheer cropped jacket over it. Her short dress revealed shimmering legs and a pair of spiked crystal heels that made her pretty legs look longer. Surprised, he realized he hadn’t noticed that the man talking to her was none other than Judge Hillman, and it appeared that the two were conducting some sort of business.

“Excuse me for a minute, Lacey?”

“Of course. I’ll just find our table.”

“Ms. Bartlett, I am not here tonight in the capacity of an officer of the court,” Judge Hillman told her directly.

Julianne touched his arm and looked into his very blue eyes. “I know that, Your Honor. I really do. But we’re facing a real time crunch at the moment. My client’s estranged husband is trying to sell half of her business before the divorce settlement has been finalized. We’re not asking you to make any judgments about anything that can wait until then, sir. I’m just asking that you place your
Judgeship
behind us so that the sale can be delayed until we find out if he even has a right to the business at all.”

Hillman lifted one gray eyebrow and stared at her for a moment. “What would your course of action have been had I not told you I would be here tonight, Ms. Bartlett?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I might have shown up on your front lawn,” she replied with a chuckle, silenced almost immediately by his reaction. “Of course, I’m only joking. I would never. Well, almost never. I mean, obviously … in some instances … there are extenuating circumstances …”

He turned the page and inspected the paperwork more carefully. “This is Veronica Caswell we’re talking about?”