In Anyone Else's Shoes Read Online Free Page A

drive all the way from Vegas to see both of his Phoenix stores?’
    ‘You’re being sarcastic, aren’t you?’
    ‘You figure it out, babe. Listen, I’m just glad to know you’re OK. We’ll talk later about your little orgy. Wait – scratch that. I don’t ever want to talk about it. Oh, and just in case? You might want to tidy your store up just a bit. Gotta go!’
    Emma finished straightening her crowded office, then double-checked the sales floor once more, navigating the labyrinth of fixtures with keen eyes wide, just to make sure everything was perfect.
    She hated how she would chronically blow these executive visits out of proportion, stressing over the smallest details. Especially now that she had decided it was time for a change.
    But it was just the way she was. You hire Emma Green, you get 100 per cent of Emma Green. That’s why all the display shoes looked so irresistible in her store, why the couches were angled just right, and, perhaps her trademark obsession, why try-on peds seemed to vaporise a second after they had been used and abandoned.
    Squatting to wipe a dust bunny from the stone sill of a display window, Emma was struck by a sharp flash of sunlight. It angled off a long, narrow car door, and then abruptly dimmed. Her attention was promptly drawn to the shiny, indigo-blue Jaguar that had been responsible for the disruption. If it weren’t for the no-limit credit card undoubtedly attached to this prospective customer, she would have rolled her eyes. Why do they need a car like that, she wondered, when they could be driving a perfectly good piece of crap like mine?
    Emma stood to get a better view of the driver and perhaps welcome her to Untamed Soles. She looked to the other side of the plate glass window, and noticed a young man dressed in a soft-shouldered dark blazer, open-collared shirt and distressed jeans. Definitely not a woman. He was busy scanning the array of shoes Emma had spent the morning orchestrating. He peered down at the display, so she wasn’t able to get a good look at his face, but she did grab an eyeful of his wavy, dark brown hair, quivering in the light breeze. His face lifted and Emma locked on to piercing amber eyes and a radiant smile. The man tapped on the glass to gather her attention, as if the hook and barb weren’t already firmly lodged, gave her a quick thumbs up, and entered the store.
    ‘You must be Emma Green,’ he declared, offering his hand.
    His warm, comfortable voice was immediately familiar to Emma. ‘Mr Eastman, it’s my pleasure to meet you.’
    ‘Jason – call me Jason. Your store looks beautiful, Emma. Better than our flagship! Please, I’d love a quick tour, and maybe you could introduce me to some of your employees?’
    Emma almost reached for his hand to guide him around, but caught herself in time. Her new RVP seemed so young, so fresh, and so dynamic. But he talked like he was so much older! What a difference from Robert, her last boss, whose middle-aged, steely eyes and taciturn behaviour made everyone a little nervous, and a lot confused.
    Jason walked the floor like a leopard stalking his prey, or a comedian working the crowd – Emma wasn’t sure which. He was smooth as glass. She suspected he got his steady poise and unmistakable self-confidence from giant containers at a warehouse club. She also sensed a sublime level of intelligence, which, for some reason, gave her an unexpected jolt of energy.
    Jason examined the inventory and studied the staff, clearly taking mental notes. Emma couldn’t recall Bailey, Jan, or Rachel ever so eager to talk to someone, even when a weighty commission was on the line. But who could blame them? He was approachable, quick-witted, and close enough to their age they could have all been high school classmates – recently. The real reason the girls were behaving so palpably unfurled, though, the superficial reason at least, was that this man was tasty yummy from head to toe. His blazer did little to