Shoe Strings by Christy Hayes

firm down there.”
    “Atlanta?”   Her
face was a mask of concern.   “Did
you know my father?   Davi Barros?”
    Jesse chuckled.   Surely she didn’t expect him to know
everyone in a city of millions.   “No.”
    “Anyone from Brazil?”
    “You’re the first, although I did know some guys who spent a
few memorable vacation days in Rio.”   Did she think his interest in her had something to do with her
father?   “Look, Angelita, I’ve never
even heard of your father.   In fact,
I didn’t even know Atlanta had a Brazilian consulate and I don’t have a clue
what a consulate does.”
    “I’m sorry.   It’s
my own neurosis at work.”   She
pushed her plate away, sat back in her chair, and aimed those killer eyes at
him again.   “He’s…trying to get back
into my life and I’ve become incredibly paranoid.”   She took a deep breath.   “The Brazilian consulate works to
promote trade between the state and Brazil.   For my father, the consul is a way to
live in the States and fulfill a coveted role in his government.”
    She’d answered him by rote, with little inflection or
emotion in her voice.   “Well, now I
know what the consulate does.   But
what do you do?”    
    “I’m a shoe designer.”
    Jesse smirked.   “It’s all coming together for me now.   All those pairs of incredibly sexy, yet
highly impractical shoes you’ve been sporting?”
    “Practicality should have nothing to do with a woman’s
choice of footwear,” she said smugly.   “And I appreciate the compliment.   They’re intended to be sexy.”
    “You’re succeeding beyond your wildest dreams, and mine.”
    The look they shared after his last comment left him damn
near breathless.   If he didn’t touch
her soon, he might convulse.   He
leaned against the table and watched the candlelight dance in her eyes.   “Who do you work for?”
    “Myself.   My
friend and business partner and I opened Angelita Feet ten years ago.”
    “Retail?”
    “Yes.   We have a
boutique in Midtown and a small Web presence.   We’re doing quite well.”   Her whole expression changed when she
talked about her business.   The
haunted look in her eyes had disappeared and in its place was a proud glitter.   “We’re thinking of expanding.”
    “Wow.”   Jesse sat
back and patted his fully belly.   “I’m impressed and incredibly full.   That was delicious.”
    “You shouldn’t be impressed, but thank you.”   She stood to gather the plates.
    “I’ll get these.”   He rose and took the plates from her hands.   “You cook, I clean.”   When she looked at him skeptically, he said,
“Sit and relax.”   He carried the
dishes to the sink and began loading the dishwasher.
    “I can’t have you doing the dishes after you changed my
tire.   This dinner is my way of
saying thank you.”
    “Angelita, just pour yourself another glass of wine and
watch how quickly I tackle this chore.   If you remember correctly, I’m not exactly a stranger here.”
    “As if I could forget.”   She carried the breadbasket to the counter.   No, he wasn’t likely to forget her
reaction when he’d come out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel.   He hadn’t been able to think of much
else besides her ever since.   And
after tonight, he was likely to go on thinking about her even more.
    Jesse swung the dishwasher closed, wiped his hands on a
dishtowel, and topped off Angelita’s glass where she’d left it on the
counter.   “If you really want to do
something for me, you can design some men’s shoes.”
    She laughed, grabbed her glass, and headed back out to the
porch.   “That’s exactly what Bryce
said.”
    They took their places in the chairs they’d sat in earlier,
minus the cats.   She looked
beautiful in the soft glow from the moon and Cal’s discretely placed landscape
lighting.   She seemed relaxed and
happy and she had to ruin Jesse’s mood by bringing up Jenson.   “Bryce, huh?