If the Shoe Fits (Meant To Be #1) by Julie Murphy

The question is what can I do or say in ten seconds that will make me stand out among the crowd? (The very beautiful and glamorous crowd.)

Between Juggling Judith and Meme Icon Addison, I don’t really have much to offer in such a short span of time.

“Twins!” someone shouts. “You’re up.”

Anna and Drew stand up, and I nearly shout, They’re not twins! But they’re gone and in the Rolls-Royce before I can even give them a good-luck wave.

“Twins,” says Judith. “Now that’s a good shtick. They haven’t had that before.”

The line moves more quickly than I expect, and with every girl that leaves, the rest of us move down a chair until it’s just Judith and me.

“Good luck!” I call to her as she slides into the back of the limo, the oranges gathered in her arms.

“I don’t need luck,” she says seriously. “I’ve got skills.”

“We saved the best for last,” Beck says as she slams the door.

I scoff at that. “Yeah, right. More like this guy is gonna be a total zombie from meeting twenty-five women back-to-back.”

Wes tilts his head, listening in on his headset. “Move it!” he shouts as he runs past someone from craft services balancing a tray of sandwiches. “We’ve got a breakdown happening by the pool.” He holds the walkie-talkie up to his mouth. “No, let her spiral! I need those tears!”

I don’t know if it’s his gross reaction to some woman in crisis or if it’s just my nerves, but I feel sick to my stomach.

“Whoa there,” says Beck, steadying me. “Ignore him.”

I shake my head. “I don’t think I can do this. I need to go home. There’s still time. Erica would only be a little bit annoyed if I left now. I haven’t even really been on camera. And I can apologize to the whole crew that came out to the house the other day for wasting—”

“Stop.” Her voice is stern. “You can do this, Cindy. You look incredible and you’re smart and funny and talented. The suitor is going to love you. The audience is going to love you. And most importantly, they’re going to die over those shoes.”

I look down at the feathers framing my ankles. My shoes. My beautiful shoes. Even if all I do is walk out there and introduce myself, millions of people will at least know my name and see my shoes. Even if I never design another shoe again, I’ll always have that moment.

I take a deep breath. I can do anything in these shoes.

“Wait!” Ash yells, sprinting up the hill from the trailers down below. “Wait!”

When she reaches us, her chest is heaving, but she’s holding a highlighter and brush in her hands. “Sorry Wes had us so busy all night, but I wanted to get up here to check on you.”

“Me?” I ask.

Ash smiles with a laugh. “Yes, you, Cindy.” She winks. “We all have our favorites, you know.”

And that little piece of information steadies me even more. “Thank you,” I whisper.

She dusts my cheekbones and the tip of my nose with rose gold. “Perfect.”

The Rolls-Royce is straight out of a fairy tale—a glistening white against the swirling sunset sky, and welded to the grille is the sparkling Before Midnight logo, a ticking Roman-numeral clock. This is really happening.

The car drives me the short distance up the rest of the hill and through the gate of the château as though this were my first time arriving here.

The car stops, and the driver in the front calls, “That’s your cue!” through the crack in the divider.

I open the door and step out, imagining the camera zooming in for a close-up of my shoes. (Hey, a girl can dream.)

As I stand, I take a deep breath and a quick moment to smooth out my dress, and for just a millisecond, I think, What if…What if this random guy really is the love of my life? What if fate is actually real and the two of us are meant for this moment?

I look up and am briefly shocked by all the lights and cameras and crew quietly stepping around us.

My vision focuses, and my gasp cuts through the humid night air.

Tall, dark hair, impeccable suit.

Henry.

Prince Charming himself.





By the way his jaw drops, he’s as shocked as I am. Or maybe he doesn’t recognize me. After all this glam, I look like an entirely different person.

“Uhhh, w-wow.” I can’t stop stuttering. “It’s y—”

“So nice to meet you,” he says, his expression perfectly retracting back to completely even-toned coolness. “I won’t bite.”

Blood rushes to my chest and up my neck. Him. Biting. Get your mind out of the gutter, girl! “I’m Cindy,” I blurt. “I love shoes.” I love shoes?

He looks down, and then with admiration, he says, “And I can see you put your best foot forward. Aren’t those striking?” he asks. “Just like you.”

At my side, a crew member waves me forward.

Oh. Right. Walking. I should do that.

I step forward as Henry holds his arms out, and I lean in for a hug.

“Henry,” he says, his breath tickling my neck. “I’m Henry.”

I step back and instinctively bite down on my lip, nerves getting the best of me. “I better get to the ball. See you in there?”