Changing Roles

I smirked at her. “Guess I’ll owe you a good foot rub later then?”

“Bloody right, Oscar. These shoes are killers, in more ways than one. Hundreds of tiny straps of death. We’ll be lucky if I don’t trip over them all night. Never mind the damn dress.”

I laughed at her use of my favorite expression. “The damn dress is lovely.” I raised her hand and kissed the knuckles. “As are you.”

I enjoyed the blush that suffused her skin. Douglas was right—every time I complimented her, she blushed. It had to mean something. I was banking on it. “I’ll hold you up, Shelby.”

“You better.”

“We’ll hold each other up—deal?”

She nodded. “Deal.”

I held out my arm. “Your chariot awaits.”

She hugged my arm against her. “Let’s hit it.”It was the exact sort of benefit I hated. A real industry event. A roomful of actors, directors, producers, front men, and wannabes vying for attention. There were too many egos, too much money, and far too many false smiles crowded into a small area. As arranged, the driver dropped us at the back door, and Shelby and I slipped in unnoticed, while the paps were busy snapping other celebrities and bigwigs walking the red carpet. It didn’t always work, but luck was with us tonight, and we entered without incident. With her beside me, I was completely calm, not even bothered by the huge crowd inside.

Dinner was long and too loud. Alcohol was flowing freely, and it seemed to me the noise level escalated as the hours dragged by. To escape the clamor, we walked a lot, looking at the auction pieces, slipping outside often to the private balcony for a quiet breath of fresh air—at least as fresh as one could get in LA.

After dinner, I took total advantage and had Shelby dance with me repeatedly. We moved together well—as if we’d been dancing together our entire lives. I enjoyed holding her close and feeling her soft skin under my hand as we swayed. It took everything I had not to nuzzle her shoulder as I held her. I couldn’t, however, stop my fingers from drawing gentle circles on the small of her back. Once Everett and Cassidy departed, I monopolized Shelby completely, maybe playing up the nervous part on my end so she stayed close. I had no shame, not when it came to my Shelby.

As the evening progressed, I thought Shelby looked pale. Twice when we were dancing, she seemed to stumble, and I caught her against my chest, looking at her with a frown.

“All right there, Shelby?”

She insisted she was fine, but I was getting worried she wasn’t feeling well.

Finally, I was called on to give my speech, hand out the award I’d been asked to present, and once that was over, I made my way back to the table amid the applause. I grew concerned as I drew closer and saw Shelby. She looked as if she were in pain, but still, she smiled as I sat beside her, wrapping her hands around mine. We sat through the rest of the speeches and awards, and as the band started to play, I bent close to her. “Dance?”

“Can we sit this one out?”

“Sure.” I glanced around the table. I was tired of the chatter around us. “Walk?”

She hesitated, then nodded, and we stood. I scowled as I saw her use a hand to steady herself before she joined me. We began to make our way across the floor, and I made the decision maybe it was time to go home when I saw a grimace pass over her face. I let go of her hand and wrapped my arm around her waist, surprised when I felt how heavily she leaned into my side. Something was definitely wrong. Gently, I steered us toward the front of the building, intending to get her away from the noise and find out what was wrong.

Shelby grimaced again, and then I noticed how gingerly she was walking. Worried, I tightened my arm around her waist and pulled her into the nearest alcove, gently pushing her down on the small bench against the wall. Before she could protest, I kneeled and lifted up one of her feet to rest on my knee, seeing for the first time just how high the heels were on the shoes she was wearing and how badly they were damaging her feet. I was horrified when I pulled my hand away from her heel and saw blood.

I looked at her in dismay. “Shelby, you’re bleeding. Your shoes are digging into your skin! Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I know,” she said. “They’re the wrong size. But it’s almost over. I can take them off soon.”

“Why did you wear them if they didn’t fit?”

“Lily brought a few pair for me to try on—these looked best with the dress. Otherwise it would have been too long. I must have put the wrong-sized pair in the box after I tried them on, and it was too late to call Lily by the time I realized my mistake when I was getting ready.”