If the Shoe Fits (5 page)

“Do you do this every week?” he asked with interest, falling in to step beside her.

“What, flash my butt, or humiliate myself in front of my boss? No to the first, but yes to the second, unfortunately.”

Charming grinned. “I meant jog around the park.”

“No, not usually. I just decided on a whim this morning. I wish I hadn't bothered now.”

Charming coughed uncomfortably.

“All joking aside, I didn't realize that you'd needed stitches the other week. You should have taken more time off.”

“Oh no, I couldn't do that!”

“Why?”

“I have this new boss who thinks I'm a complete nitwit. Taking extra time off would only add to his low opinion of me. Between you and me, I think he thinks I'm an idiot.”

“Does he? I mean, do I?”

“I don't know. Do you?”

“You're certainly the most accident-prone female I've ever come across,” he said. “Though that doesn't make you an idiot. What about this boss? Do you still think he's a ‘bastard'?”

“Oh God,” she blushed. “Don't remind me about that day. I would never have said that if I'd known it was you standing there.”

“Obviously.”

“And you know, nobody really thinks you're a bastard, Well, Derek does, but he doesn't count.”

“Derek … Leeming?”

“Yeah. He's got a stick up his arse at the moment because he thinks you're competition.”

“In what way?”

“Derek's a ladies' man. Or at least, that how he thinks of himself. He spends half his days panting after all of the female staff. God, why am I telling you this? You're my boss, I shouldn't, should
not
be telling you this.”

“Am I going to be hit with a load of sexual harassment complaints?” he asked seriously.

“No, of course not. Derek's annoying, but he's harmless. Bloody hell, look, don't listen to me. I'm rambling like a fool, probably concussed from the fall or something.”

“You landed on your face,” he pointed out.

“Shock, then,” she amended. “Anyway, I'd better go. I need to get back and feed my cat.”

Eleanor didn't give Charming a chance to reply, and started jogging in the opposite direction.

Feed the cat? Eleanor, you're a complete idiot. Not only do you have clothing problems, you seem to be lacking in brain function too. If Charming didn't think you were crazy before today, he certainly does now.

• • •

The weekend didn't get any better, for Eleanor received an unexpected visit from her ex-stepmother the following morning. Eleanor had just finished reading the Sunday papers and was about to make a start on lunch when her doorbell rang.

“You're early,” she remarked as she opened the door, expecting it to be her father. Instead, she was greeted by the unsmiling face of Christie.

“I'm off to France in the morning, and I didn't want to miss our weekly date,” said Christie, looking down her nose as usual. “You needn't think that just because I'm having a holiday, I was going to forget our usual chat.”

“That would be awful, wouldn't it?” drawled Eleanor sarcastically. “Come in; far be it from me to come between you and your spite.”

“You'll never change, will you, Eleanor? You were a snotty-nosed teen when I met you, and you're still just as obnoxious.”

“I do try to be consistent.”

Christie sniffed disdainfully and headed for the living room. On seeing their visitor, Muse yelped and dove up the stairs.
If only I could do that too
, thought Eleanor wistfully. Instead, she dutifully prepared a tea tray and joined Christie in the living room. These visits were always trying, but it kept the annoying woman away from Eleanor's father, so she gritted her teeth and put up with them.

“Have you spoken to Edward about my request?” asked Christie, getting to the point at once. Eleanor inwardly winced. Her father liked to be called “Teddy,” but Christie had hated the name and had called him “Edward” since the first day she'd met him.

“Dad really can't afford to raise the monthly payments, Christie, I've told you that countless times.”

“Well I can't afford to live off the measly few hundred that he's paying me at the moment, and that's the end of it.”

Eleanor counted to ten in her head.

“Christie, you agreed to that sum when you signed the divorce papers. And honestly, you dress in designer gear and go on holiday every couple of months. It doesn't look like you're struggling to make ends meet.”

“My clothes are paid for by my employers, you know that. One has to look good when one is appearing on television.”

Christie presented the weather on the local news channel, and she made sure everyone knew about it.

“As to my holidays, you know I have friends over in France. I spend very little money at all.”

“If you spend so little, why do you need more?” asked Eleanor, raising her eyebrows.

“I don't have to explain myself to you,” said Christie shortly. “Why I can't speak directly to Edward about this, I don't know. It's all very annoying.”

Not half as annoying as you,
thought Eleanor, choking slightly on her tea. She allowed Christie to continue her moans and complaints for a further twenty minutes, and then skillfully ushered her through the front door. Muse came scurrying down the stairs as soon as the coast was clear.

“A fat lot of help you are,” said Eleanor. “Why can't you scratch at her legs or something whenever she comes here? She might go a bit sooner if you did.”

“I couldn't do that!” said a shocked voice.

Eleanor jumped. She looked around to make sure that Christie really had left, but there was no one in the room except for herself and Muse.

“I've finally lost my mind,” she muttered to herself.

“Did you ever have it to begin with?” shot back the strange voice.

Eleanor looked at her cat suspiciously.

“I know it's not
you
talking to me, so why do I think that it is?”

“Of course it's me who is talking to you, Ella. Who else would it be?” said Muse. Or at least, possibly Muse.

“Cats can't speak. That's not possible.”

“Of course we can speak; we've always been able to speak. You just need a certain type of human to understand us.”

“A crazy one?” spluttered Eleanor, dropping into a chair.

“We prefer the term ‘open-minded' as opposed to crazy. One doesn't like to think we are living with unstable humans, after all.”

“Oh yes, I can understand that,” said Eleanor faintly. “Er, why have I never heard you before now?”

“You just weren't listening right, dear. I've been communicating with you for quite some time now, but you've been rather distracted.”

“I need a drink.”

“Not the vodka, please, Ella dear.”

“Why?”

“Wine is much better; more refined for a lady.”

“I've never pretended to be a ‘lady,' Muse,” snorted Eleanor, who was now enjoying the conversation, no matter how bizarre it seemed. She decided she was dreaming, and if that was the case, she would indulge in some vodka, even if it
was
far too early in the day.

In the spirit of embracing her dream, Eleanor decided to confide in Muse about her embarrassing encounters with Charming, culminating in the recent flashing of her bottom. Muse was very understanding, and offered advice on her predicament.

“You should try to be more careful when you are out and about, my dear. I would definitely advise clothes that aren't easy to come off, for example. And perhaps you should leave the high heels at home in the future.”

“I wasn't wearing heels or loose fitting clothes when I got stuck in the elevator,” pointed out Eleanor, as she downed a double vodka.

“No dear, but you weren't being careful, were you, or you would have noticed your jacket getting caught in the door.”

“That's true,” she sighed. “I can't help it, though. That man makes me nervous.”

“Maybe so, but you need to keep your wits about you. By the by, I strongly advise putting the lid back on that bottle. Your father is due in half an hour, and unless I'm mistaken, you still haven't put the chicken in the oven.”

“Crap!”

“Ella, please try to use a more ladylike refrain in the future. That isn't very becoming language for a lady to use.”

“You sound like Christie.”

Muse sniffed and walked out of the room with her tail in the air. Eleanor giggled, then pinched herself.

“Ow!”

Double crap
. She hadn't been dreaming after all. Biting her lip, she grabbed the phone and punched in Jake's number. After a few rings, the phone was answered and Jake's voice tinkled over the line.

“What's up, sweetie?”

“Jake, I think I'm losing my mind.”

Sunday afternoon was a great improvement on Sunday morning. Jake talked Eleanor down from her moment of hysteria, and even brought a cooked chicken over from the market so that lunch wasn't delayed. Jake's presence allowed Ella to stay virtually silent without her father noticing anything amiss. Best of all, Muse didn't utter anything more than an occasional “
meow
.” Eleanor went to bed that night feeling much better, and with high hopes of Monday being a little less crazy.

When the alarm went off at 7
A.M.
the following morning, she awoke feeling refreshed and ready for almost anything. Which was just as well, because Muse started talking to her again.

“Good morning, Ella. I'm very happy to see you waking up with a smile on your face. Pleasant dreams?”

Eleanor's mouth dropped open and she shook her head from side to side rapidly, hoping the movement would clear her ears, which were obviously malfunctioning.

“Don't do that dear, you'll make yourself dizzy.”

Crap, it didn't work.

Staring at Muse warily, Eleanor got out of bed and went for a shower. Maybe if she used cold water for her morning ablutions, she would stop hallucinating. Ten minutes later, she emerged from the shower a shivering wreck and could have sworn Muse was laughing at her.

“Bloody cat,” she muttered grumpily. “You are
not
laughing at me, and you
don't
talk.”

Muse snorted — or at least, that's what it sounded like — and wandered downstairs towards the kitchen. Eleanor quickly dressed and grabbed her hairbrush on the way out of the bedroom. Doing her best to tame her mass of frizz, she thumped down the stairs and filled the kettle ready for a strong dose of morning caffeine.

“You should really have some of that herbal tea, Ella. It would do much for your morning disposition.”

Eleanor grunted.

“And we really do need to work on your powers of conversation,” added Muse thoughtfully, before strolling over to her food dish and twitching her whiskers towards the box of cat biscuits on the shelf.

Eleanor grunted again and stomped over to the shelf, grabbed the biscuits, and poured them haphazardly into Muse's bowl. The kettle started bubbling, so she quickly made a cup of strong black coffee and added two spoonfuls of sugar to it. She usually avoided sugar, but this morning she definitely needed something to sweeten her mood.

Muse kept quiet as she ate her breakfast, and Eleanor decided to escape while the going was good. Maybe a day at work would bring her back to reality. She downed the last of her coffee, scraped her still-wet hair into a ponytail, and left the house before Muse could use her mouth for anything more than chewing.

By the time she got to work, Eleanor had calmed down a little, and was even laughing at herself. Of course her cat wasn't talking to her, she thought to herself. It was like Jake said, she was just a little stressed at the moment. Jake had also suggested that Muse's sudden leap into Conversation City was more than likely to be Eleanor's “inner voice” trying to talk sense into her. Of course, Jake was always talking about the inner something or other, that was just his way, but Eleanor had to admit that this time he made a little sense.

“You were right,” she said, as she walked into Jake's office. Not getting a reply, Eleanor looked around and saw that the office was empty. She was concerned for a moment — Jake was usually one of the first people to arrive — but then she realized that she was over an hour earlier than what she would normally be. Rolling her eyes at herself, she decided that another cup of coffee was in order.

It was odd making just one cup of coffee; usually she had to fill two kettles at a time whenever she was on coffee duty. She took advantage of the solitude and raided the biscuit cupboard. Having missed breakfast, she was starving. She rummaged through the various packets and settled on a packet of cookies. She was happily munching through her third biscuit when she heard the door open.

“Bloody Hell, Ella, did a bomb go off this morning?” said Jake, patting his heart dramatically.

“Ha ha,” she replied.

“Make us a cuppa, there's a love. Danny was messing around with the fuse box this morning, and everything went
bang
. I need coffee.”

Chuckling in sympathy, Eleanor switched the kettle back on. She eyed the cookies thoughtfully, and then had another one.

“Want one?” she asked Jake, holding out the packet.

“God, yes,” he said gratefully. “My stomach thinks my throat's been cut.”

Jake easily ate half a dozen biscuits with his coffee, and stuffed the few remaining cookies into his coat pocket.

“There's always room for another cookie,” he said, winking at Eleanor.

“My philosophy exactly,” she replied.

“Any ponderings from your pussy this morning?”

“Jake!”

“Sorry, it had to be said, I couldn't resist.”