Free If the Shoe Fits by Amber T. Smith

shoot, so Eleanor merely waved a quick greeting and left them to it.
    The afternoon passed in a blur of memos, emails, and boiling kettles. The cardigan worked very well, and Eleanor wasn’t bothered by innuendo-filled comments for the rest of the day. Unfortunately, by the time she left the building she was redder than a beetroot due to feeling so warm. On the plus side, the bus driver, who had so blatantly gawked at her that morning, seemed to have an aversion to beetroot and stuck to the less disturbing greeting of “tickets please.”
    By the time she got home, she was ready to consign her shirt to the charity shop. Or at least to the depths of her wardrobe, where past fashion disasters lurked, and mocked her frequently. Eleanor shuddered as she recalled the sparkly leggings that were so hot two years ago, but which were now something that she avoided at all costs.
    Eleanor stripped off her clothes and threw on some pajamas. On a whim, she decided to pull out all of her scary clothes items from the wardrobe. It was time she gave them a wash and then passed them on to the local used clothing shop. Happy that she was doing something constructive, she opened her wardrobe door and promptly screamed.
    â€œMuse, what the hell are you doing?”
    Muse’s bright green eyes blinked up at her in surprise.
    â€œIt’s time for your lessons to begin in earnest, dear,” said her feline friend.
    â€œYou almost gave me a heart attack! What on earth are you doing buried in my shoes?”
    â€œYou need to learn how to walk in heels, dear.”
    â€œI do?” she replied doubtfully.
    Eleanor had been wearing heels for almost ten years now, and thought she had walking in them pretty much covered.
    â€œYes, dear, you do. Walking in heels is an art form.”
    â€œIt is?”
    â€œOf course it is. You work for a modeling agency; I thought you would understand this. Clearly you don’t, though, or you wouldn’t be questioning my expertise.”
    Eleanor was having trouble accepting the fact that a cat would know anything about wearing heels, but Muse was so earnest that she kept her mouth shut.
    â€œNow, you obviously need to take a little more care when you are walking in heels. Tiny, graceful steps are required if you don’t wish to fall flat on your face.”
    Eleanor looked at her cat suspiciously. She was sure Muse was referencing the coffee tray trip from a few weeks ago.
    â€œThe style of the heel is important, too. High heels can be difficult if they are stilettos.”
    Muse pushed Eleanor’s spiky-heeled boots towards her to demonstrate.
    â€œHowever,” continued the cat, pushing a boxy-heeled pair of shoes next to the stilettos, “Chunky heels are much easier to navigate.”
    Eleanor flopped down on her bed and kicked off her slippers. It was very odd listening to a cat lecture her on ‘fashion dos and don’ts’, but it was entertaining nevertheless.
    â€œOf course, a smart girl opts for flat shoes, but they aren’t nearly as glamorous, wouldn’t you agree?”
    â€œOh yes, definitely.”
    â€œExactly. Flats are practical, to be sure, but they aren’t going to give you any points for fashion sense.”
    â€œSo what do I do?” asked Eleanor thoughtfully.
    â€œWe need to strike a balance, my dear. Much as I’d love to see you in a pair of gorgeous high heels, there’s no denying the fact that you are likely to totter more than a drunken sailor if you do so.”
    Images of sailors in stilettos immediately entered Eleanor’s brain, and she stifled a chuckle.
    â€œAnd we really can’t have you wearing flats, can we?” continued Muse sensibly. “I believe I have the solution, though.”
    Muse pushed a third pair of shoes towards Eleanor and smiled. At least, it looked like Muse was smiling, but with a cat one could never be sure.
    â€œOh, I’d forgotten all about these,”