If the Shoe Fits Read Online Free

conversation with Sarah. Why give the older woman the satisfaction of knowing she was, as usual, quite right?
    Before the dessert was served and the toasts began, Bronte gave Sarah a quick wink-and-a-nod and the two got up and went into the ladies’ powder room together. Bronte shut the door, double-checked that no one else was in the adjacent water closet, then came out squealing.
    “Is Devon hitting on you?”
    “Well—”
    “Oh, Sarah! You are too much. You are such a vixen I can’t stand it! I know you are so saucy and the Sarah James It Girl—I mean, I created the whole concept—but—”
    “Bron—”
    “Are you going to fool around with him tonight?” Then lowering her voice while still somehow squeaking, she said, “Are you going to sleep with him?!”
    “Bronte! Stop!” Sarah was five years younger than her dear friend, but they often joked that they were both emotional twelve-year-olds when it came to guys. Bronte had nearly botched her whole engagement to Max through a string of mistakes and misunderstandings. Sarah, truth be told, had never really had the opportunity to botch anything. But it was better to play up the whole It-Girl thing than to confess a life devoid of romance. “He is such a parody of himself,” Sarah said, “with all that rakish fake earl foolishness. I mean, he’s not even an earl. It’s just ridiculous. He’s just ridiculous.” She applied more lipstick, then continued, “But he’s so hot. I guess I’m sort of playing with him. I finally just told him I was a sure thing so he could quit it with the smarmy seduction and we could get on with some interesting dinner conversation.”
    Sarah had turned to the mirror to double-check her mascara and lipstick and caught Bronte’s openmouthed gape in the reflection.
    “What?” Sarah asked, her lipstick poised in midair as she was about to put the top back on.
    “You did not!” Bronte covered her mouth and started to laugh. “Oh, Sarah, you are priceless. He is so fawned over around here, you have no idea. His mother ignores everyone in the family except Devon, his sisters act like he is the best thing since sliced fucking bread.”
    “Bron, I thought you were trying to cut back on the swearing… you know, becoming a duchess and all that.”
    “Don’t remind me. I’m already shitting bullets about walking down the aisle in that vintage Valentino dress… I keep picturing all those yards of priceless lace getting caught on the edge of one of the goddamned pews and my very nervous self tripping flat on my fucking face.”
    Sarah grabbed Bronte’s hands in hers and gave her a warm smile. “You are going to be a star, Bron. Don’t give it a second thought. The dress is divine. The chapel looked beautiful tonight at the rehearsal, and it will all be perfect.”
    “Thank you so much for coming. All these Etonian-Oxonian-Cantabrigian mates are a bit overwhelming. I will be relieved when the rest of the Yanks arrive tomorrow. My mom is not helping.”
    Sarah gave her an encouraging hug and then the two women headed back out into the surreal world of Dunlear Castle: ancestral home to the nineteenth Duke of Northrop and his ne’er-do-well younger brother. If Sarah was going to lose her virginity, she might as well do it in style.

Chapter 2
    Whether it was a curse or a blessing—Sarah still hadn’t decided—she was able to drink vast amounts without getting drunk as long as she stuck to champagne. Devon, on the other hand, seemed to be showing the signs of one too many glasses. His goofy smile was plastered on his face as they fell into the back of the courtesy limousine that had arrived from Sarah’s hotel. The car headed out the Dunlear Castle gravel drive and onto the small country lane that would take them to the Amberley Castle Hotel. It was times like this she wished that she actually did feel the effects of alcohol.
    Sarah was reminded of all those idiotic parties in her early teens in Lake Forest when she had