Chapters (67)
- Cover
- “And may I say, those shoes are adorable.”
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Dedication
- ( I )
- ( one )
- ( two )
- ( three )
- ( four )
- ( five )
- ( six )
- ( seven )
- ( eight )
- ( nine )
- ( ten )
- ( II )
- ( eleven )
- ( twelve )
- ( thirteen )
- ( fourteen )
- ( fifteen )
- ( III )
- ( sixteen )
- ( seventeen )
- ( eighteen )
- ( nineteen )
- ( IV )
- ( twenty )
- ( twenty-one )
- ( twenty-two )
- ( twenty-three )
- ( twenty-four )
- ( V )
- ( twenty-five )
- ( twenty-six )
- ( twenty-seven )
- ( twenty-eight )
- ( twenty-nine )
- VI
- ( thirty )
- ( thirty-one )
- ( thirty-two )
- ( thirty-three )
- ( thirty-four )
- ( VII )
- ( thirty-five )
- ( thirty-six )
- ( thirty-seven )
- ( thirty-eight )
- ( thirty-nine )
- ( forty )
- ( forty-one )
- ( forty-two )
- ( VIII )
- ( forty-three )
- ( forty-four )
- ( forty-five )
- ( forty-six )
- ( forty-seven )
- ( forty-eight )
- ( forty-nine )
- ( fifty )
- ( fifty-one )
- Acknowledgments
- Acknowledgments
- Questions for Discussion
He laughed. “I’m not a masseur, Mrs. Shelby King.” And he was up and wandering away across the room, carrying the footstool with him. “You can put on your stockings and shoes now.”
As she glanced up, she caught sight of Olga. She’d come halfway up the stairs again and was watching. Rapidly, Genevieve turned her back. How long had the woman been there? She hated the idea that Olga might have watched while Zachari had been holding and caressing her feet. Yes, caressing. No lover had ever touched her feet that way.
When she’d finished fastening her stockings, she saw that Olga had come right into the room and was standing with Zachari at the reception desk, checking through a diary and talking to him in a low murmur. Looking up at Genevieve, Olga cleared her throat and jabbed at Zachari with her elbow. Finally he, too, looked up.
“Thank you, madame. We’re all finished. So nice to see you again.”
Genevieve’s business head was on now. “But we haven’t discussed anything.”
He raised his eyebrows. “What is there to discuss?”
“Well, the kind of shoes I’d like, of course. And the price. And you’re to tell me when they’ll be ready.”
“We will telephone you when the shoes are ready,” said Olga.
Genevieve continued ignoring her. “We haven’t settled any of the details, Mr. Zachari.”
Zachari frowned. “I don’t work that way. I’d have expected you to know that, since you profess to have such a liking for my shoes.”
“But I need the shoes to work with a Cubist theme, and the colors—”
He held up both hands, signaling for her to stop. “You must leave all this to me. My design will be perfect for the shape of your foot. That is all I can say for the moment. And I do not make any guarantees as to when the shoes will be ready. I must obtain the right materials, the right fabrics. This can take some time.”
“What is this? I’m commissioning a pair of shoes for my party.”
“Nobody dictates to Paolo.”
Zachari put a hand on Olga’s arm to silence her. “I’ll make you a pair of shoes. I think you’ll like them.”
“And the money?”
“Five hundred dollars now, and the rest when the shoes are ready.”
“How much will ‘the rest’ be?”
He shrugged and spread his hands wide. “I don’t know yet. I might be working with plain leather. I might order in silks from overseas or buy lace and brocade from one of the flea markets.”
“Flea markets!”
“The money’s not a problem, is it?”
“That’s hardly the point.”
“Madame,” said Zachari. “My shoes are magic shoes. They’ll make you happy. You want to be happy, don’t you?”