Free If the Shoe Fits by Amber T. Smith Page A

cried Eleanor excitedly, as she examined the silver strappy sandals that she had purchased several years previously.
    â€œYou should sort your wardrobe out, dear. It is a veritable Aladdin’s Cave in there. You have to sift through a lot of garbage, true, but I found several gems buried beneath all the clutter.”
    â€œActually, that’s what I was going to do tonight,” remarked Eleanor, as she strapped the silver sandals on to her feet.
    â€œExcellent idea. However, I feel we should concentrate on the walking lessons this evening. You can do your wardrobe another night.”
    Eleanor nodded distractedly as she fastened the last strap. The sandals had been a ridiculously extravagant impulse buy, something she usually avoided. Costing £150, she still had no idea what had made her blow almost a week’s wages on them. They were gorgeous, though.
    â€œWalk to the door and back,” instructed Muse.
    Eleanor did as she was told. The heels were three inches, not overly high in these days of impossibly high heels, but she wobbled slightly as she walked to the door and back again.
    â€œPosture, dear,” chided Muse.
    Eleanor glared.
    â€œHeels aren’t really designed for walking on carpet, Muse. Cut me a little slack, would you?”
    Muse put Eleanor through half an hour of pacing, offering words of wisdom every so often. Eleanor bit her lip, but did her best to comply.
    â€œI think that’s enough for this evening,” declared Muse eventually.
    â€œThank goodness,” muttered Eleanor, who promptly sat on her bed and made to remove the sandals.
    â€œOh, don’t take them off, Ella.”
    â€œHuh?”
    â€œYou will be wearing those sandals every evening from now until the party.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œPractice makes perfect, dear.”
    Eleanor opened her mouth to respond, but Muse glared at her.
    â€œI wasn’t going to swear,” said Eleanor sulkily.
    â€œOf course you weren’t, dear.”
    Bloody interfering cat.
Swearing didn’t count if it’s only said in one’s head, after all.
    â€¢ • •
    It was a decidedly strange feeling wearing a pair of sexy stilettos with short pajamas. Eleanor felt the urge to giggle as she cooked herself a curry later that night, much to Muse’s annoyance.
    â€œYou really shouldn’t laugh, Ella, this is a serious business.”
    Eleanor nodded sincerely, but it was hard to be serious while you were wearing a Betty Boop T-shirt, baggy shorts and a pair of heels. Plus, her legs needed shaving, which didn’t exactly match the sexiness of the shoes at all.
    â€œWhen can I take them off?” asked Eleanor. “I mean, do I have to wear them at all times, or can I remove them now and again in the next week or so?”
    â€œSarcasm will get you nowhere, my dear.”
    â€œI’m not being sarcastic,” said Eleanor innocently. “I’m just curious. I want to take a bath later, for example. I’m assuming I get to take them off then, right?”
    Muse glared at her and left the kitchen. Eleanor grinned as she licked the spoon she had used to stir the curry.
    â€œPerfect,” she said to herself, and she wasn’t only referring to the curry.
    Eleanor did indeed remove the high heels when she ran her bath, though they were swiftly returned to her feet as soon as she’d dried herself afterwards. This time they were accompanied by a lacy black bra and matching thong, and most importantly, fuzz-free legs. Eleanor had just started to detangle her hair when she heard the front door bell chiming. She quickly grabbed her dressing gown and ran down the stairs, almost breaking her neck in the process.
    â€œBloody heels,” she cursed, as she opened the door.
    â€œDarling! You should have told me you were holding a swingers’ party tonight. I would have been here earlier.”
    â€œJake! What are you doing here? Quick, get in before half the