Nigel Grant just couldn't have been more helpful or understanding Maria thought. His mannerisms were a bit odd, but the sheer politeness of the man was enough to win her over. Not bad looking either she reminded herself as she clutched the arm he offered for balance. She glanced up to see the number16 illuminated above the elevator door. While exiting to the elevator lobby, Maria had walked out of the boot for the third time in less than an hour, and before she could retrieve it, the elevator door had closed and her boot was whisked away to the upper floors of the building. "Oh dear," she had heard him exclaim under his breath, but he had said nothing more about it. "Please be there," she whispered under her breath as they waited for the elevator to return. What if someone had found her boot in the empty elevator and taken it, or it had gotten kicked out on one of the other floors? She clung to his arm nervously, balanced on her remaining boot with her stocking clad toes just barely touching the polished marble tile.
In a manner that was uniquely British, he engaged her in pleasant and polite conversation while politely ignoring her predicament, as if it were an every day occurrence. She looked at the polished bronze ashtray between the elevator doors, and she could she the gold reflection of her tan stockinged foot looking naked and out of place between her solitary boot and Nigel's thick-soled wingtips. It was fortunate she had painted her toes last night, since Sarah had stolen her boot and her sock in the meeting this morning, leaving her to wander around the office with one completely bare foot. She had found some stockings, which was better than being barefoot, but she wasn't pleased about having her stockinged foot on display in the lobby of the building.
Why is the elevator taking so long, she wondered. She glanced back at the bronze ashtray to see her toes tapping nervously on the marble floor. At least she had nice feet, she thought, nothing special, but nice, she had decided. Just then, the elevator chimed and the doors opened to the elevator cab, empty except for a brown lace up boot in the corner. Nigel held the door with his hand as she stepped into the cab and put her foot most of the way into the wayward boot, exiting much more carefully than she had three minutes ago.
"Benton should have the car in front by now," Nigel told her, as he escorted her toward the front door at a noticeably relaxed pace. She noticed that he glanced down at her feet several times, but had refrained from any mention of her problematic boot, which was threatening to slip off with every step of her right foot. When they reached the front of the lobby, Nigel opened the door that was adjacent to the revolving door, saving her from another footwear disaster. As they walked to the curb, she saw Benton push open the rear door of the black stretched Lincoln, and slide across to the opposite side. Predictably, Maria lost her boot again as she stepped into the car, but Nigel had grabbed it and replaced it on her outstretched foot before anyone had noticed. She had already decided that Nigel was the most considerate man she had ever met.
Let me tell you a few things about our development before we arrive," Benton said. "The project is a 55-story mixed use development featuring an underground parking garage, a street level plaza, six floors of retail, a major hotel, and 160 condominiums."
Maria thought he sounded like a radio announcer reading the weather forecast. She looked at the boot that was already halfway off of her foot again. She had pushed down the back of the boot in order to fit her foot most of the way into it, wearing it somewhat like a clog. It occurred to Maria that for Sarah to have taken her boot in the meeting this morning, she must have been planning the prank for several weeks in advance. In order to steal her boot and replace it with one that was three sizes too small, she must have made a separate trip to the mall, purchased an identical pair in size 5 1/2, and then carried the boot with her until the perfect opportunity came along. The partially darkened conference room had been the chance she was waiting for and she had deftly stolen Maria's boot, replacing it with this miserable size 5-� imposter. She smiled in spite of herself. She had no idea her friend was so deviously clever. The Limo hit a pothole in the road and the tiny boot fell to the floor.
Mr. Benton was reading from some press release and didn't look up, but Maria's eyes met with Nigel's just as he looked up from her stocking clad toes. She smiled at him and looked out the window again, but purposefully left the empty boot on the carpet for the remainder of the ride across town. When they arrived at the project site, she decided it would be best to negotiate her way out of the car and stand up before replacing the troublesome footwear.
It was indeed an impressive development she thought as she looked up at the imposing fa�ade. The retail and hotel areas were already open and the condominiums would be ready for occupancy within several months. Benton charged forward into the building but Nigel Grant strolled along side her at a leisurely pace as if they were walking through the park. Again, Nigel avoided the revolving door, and they caught up with Benton by the elevator bank. Despite using extra caution, Maria felt her heart sink as her bare toes touched the floor of the elevator. Before she even turned to look, she just knew that her boot would be left in the elevator lobby, but there was Nigel shuffling in behind her, pushing her boot along the floor with his shoes. "Thank You," she said in a whisper, and held on to his arm again as she struggled her way into the boot again. Nigel patted her shoulder but said nothing more about it.
Benton was droning on again as they entered the new offices of Sterns Development Corp. and passed the receptionist desk. They looked at a scale model of the building and several architectural renderings on the walls. When Mr. Benton finally ran out of his marketing speech, Nigel Grant looked at him, and said very plainly and politely,";Thank you Benton." Clearly, Mr. Benton did not know what to make of this and there was an uncomfortable pause. Finally, he replied, "Well if there is nothing further, I'll be in my office." Benton looked somewhat dismayed and the whole exchange left Maria somewhat puzzled.
"Well then," said Nigel, "lets have a look at the project shall we?" and he walked out the front door of the office holding it open for her.
In spite of her cautious pace, Maria walked out of her boot again as she exited the elevator to the Health Club Level, but luckily, she retrieved it before the elevator doors had closed. "I wish I could avoid these damn elevators," she thought, but an image of her boot cascading down a crowded flight of stairs came to mind, and she knew that things could be worse. They were all alone on a wide mezzanine that overlooked an Olympic size swimming pool surrounded by a garden, all on the fortieth floor of a building. She shuffled across the new carpet and they stood together at the rail watching a tile setter finish his work for the day. He was setting the last few tiles of a giant letter S in the center of the pool, which she guessed was for Sterns Development.
"Please, forgive my asking," Nigel began, but stopped. Stammering slightly, he pressed on. "I don't mean to pry but I can't help but notice that you seem to have lost your boot several times today." He quickly looked away from her, looking first at the giant "S" and then out at the city and the approaching sunset.
Maria thought for a moment. His shyness was very disarming, and she didn't want to lie to him. On the other hand, she didn't know how to begin to explain the game, and Sarah stealing her shoe. She looked at her watch. Sarah was at another airport about now and Maria hoped that somehow, she would lose her shoe, or better yet her pants. She imagined Sarah running around the airport in her under pants, and had to stifle a laugh. She turned her attention back to Nigel and settled on an abbreviated version of the truth. "My friend at the office has the exact same boots, and there was a mix up. I ended up with one boot of my own, and one that is identical, but a few sizes too small."
Nigel shifted uncomfortably, still looking out at the skyline. "Y-Yyy-You don't have to wear your shoes at all if you don't wish to, I am sure that all of the tradesmen have gone for the day." His voice trailed off sounding thin and shaken. He nervously looked at his watch, at the pool, at the city, at the river, all around the cavernous room, but he did not look at Maria.
Even looking at his profile, Maria could see he was blushing like a schoolgirl. "Thank you," she said quietly, but then she stopped, wanting desperately not to say the wrong thing. She had decided that she was very attracted to him, although he was not at all her type. He was obviously very intelligent, she thought, but he seemed uncertain of himself, and not really at ease with her. He seemed so proper and reserved, very polite and considerate. If she could just put him at ease, maybe steer the conversation away from business. She just didn't know what to say as they stood together leaning on the handrail in silence.
"Well then," he said, "let's have a look at the residential area. It's quite marvelous to be sure."
On a whim, Maria slipped her foot out of the boot and scooped it up with her hand, strolling across the room with one boot and one stockinged foot, the other boot dangling from her fingers by the laces. Nigel pretended not to notice, but his expression clearly indicated that he was delighted with this turn of events. Entering the hallway again, they waited for the elevator to return. Maria watched the sunset through the floor to ceiling window and pretended not to notice Nigel, as he pretended not to stare at her stockinged foot. She bent her knee slightly and raised her heel until her foot was dangling vertically, and her toes just brushed the surface of the white marble floor. Without looking at Nigel, she flexed her toes upward and pressed the ball of her foot to the floor, slowly turning her ankle as if to grind out an imaginary cigarette on a sidewalk. The marble floor felt cool and silky under her stockinged foot and she enjoyed this secret flirtation, covertly watching Nigel's reaction reflected in the polished bronze elevator door. The elevator chimed as the doors opened, and Nigel stood to one side as she walked a little closer to him than was necessary, still swinging her boot from the laces wrapped around her fingers.
They exited the elevator at the top floor of the building that served as the sales office for the condominiums on the upper floors. The sun had just disappeared beyond the horizon and the view of the city was breathtaking. For a long moment, neither said anything as they gazed at the city lights. "There are four models on this floor," Nigel said, as they walked past the sales reception desk. Nigel handed her a floor plan brochure, and she set the empty boot on the countertop and leafed through the pages. As Nigel walked through the double doors into the first model, Maria started after him, putting her hand on the boot momentarily, but leaving it on the counter instead. They were half way through the second model on the opposite side of the building before Nigel realized she had abandoned the boot completely. "You appear to have lost your boot altogether," he said, unable to fully mask the excitement in his voice.
Maria pointed her toes and extended her leg in his direction, her painted toes hovering about a foot off the floor. She rolled her ankle and made several small circles in the air with her toes. She examined her stockings and said casually, "Well, it is carpeted, and my stockings seem to be holding up alright. I left it on the desk in front so I can just grab it on the way out." From the look on his face, she could see that he was very amused with the situation, and seemed on the verge of laughter. "What is it?" she asked. "You said all the tradesman had left for the day," she said teasingly.
"I did indeed," he replied, "but what about the sales people?"
Maria looked startled and took several steps toward the door before she heard the sound from behind her. Nigel was laughing uncontrollably, and waving his arms, motioning her toward him as he walked toward her. "Just teasing," he finally managed to say, while trying to catch his breath. "The sales people aren't here yet, they are not permitted to show the units until the health club is completed. I'm sorry to laugh, but the look on your face was priceless."
Maria laughed too, because he finally had let his guard down, and he was instantly relaxed and more casual with her. He was so good-natured that she was unperturbed to be the punch line of his little joke. He was by her side now and she hooked her arm around his and headed out the door. Joke or not though, she retrieved her boot from the front desk, carrying it in her hand to the next model.
"This is one of the most spectacular residences in the world," he announced, as they entered the last model. The view was breathtaking. The living room was two stories tall, with glass from floor to ceiling. "This is the most incredible part," he said excitedly, ushering her toward the sliding glass door, but stopping short. "Are you afraid of heights?" he asked, suddenly seeming very concerned.
"Not really," she replied, although that wasn't actually true. She stepped over the raised threshold of the sliding glass doorwall, and decided to replace the boot on her foot. The roof pavers were a little rough and she didn't want to snag her stocking, particularly since it seemed to be on public display for much of the day. She shuffled over to the handrail and stood near Nigel, and in spite of a mild sense of vertigo, she had to admit that this was a spectacular location, some six hundred feet above the city. Below her feet, a tour boat was leaving the ground level plaza and heading out toward the lake, looking like a bathtub toy from this height. As she followed its progress, she leaned against the handrail and almost involuntarily, she put her foot up on the concrete curb that the handrail was attached to. Nigel drew his breath in sharply as his attention focused directly on her boot, and on the heel of her stocking clad foot, which was several inches out of it already.
Nigel appeared flustered and quickly looked away. Maria looked down at the boot that had given her so much trouble today, and thought about Nigel. Clearly this boot problem held some fascination for him, which she did not fully understand. Earlier, he had nervously suggested that she not wear her boots at all, and all afternoon, he had seemed very attentive on every occasion she had found herself with her stockinged foot on display. And they had really bonded when he had teased her about leaving her boot on the sales counter. There was definitely something going on here.
"Maybe I should tell him the story about my shoe getting locked in the file cabinet and see how he reacts," she told herself in a silent but reasonable voice. "Or maybe you should let that boot drop into the river and see how he reacts to that," she thought, hearing a more devious voicein her head. Nigel quickly returned his attention to the boot, and she wasn't entirely sure that she hadn't spoken aloud. The boot was dangling nearly vertically off the tips of her toes, swaying in the stiff breeze that was blowing steadily at this elevation.
She felt her pulse quicken as she considered the situation, and the excitement she felt was a surprise to her. The sensation of the cool concrete on her bare heel, the wind whipping around her stocking clad arch, the uncertainty of the incredible height, the allure of this charming man, it was all so exhilarating. She flexed her toes slightly, swinging the dangling boot a millimeter farther toward the sky. She had never considered anything so blatantly flirtatious before. A file cabinet was one thing, but launching her boot six hundred feet into a river? She would be stranded here with one boot. She couldn't really predict the reaction from Nigel. How would she get home? Another barefoot ride on the train? She shuddered involuntarily, letting her boot slide off of her instep another quarter inch or so. This is really stupid, she told herself, the reasonable voice returning to her. I'll have to walk through the mall area barefoot. And what if he just thinks I am some kind of an idiot? She hung on the edge of indecision, her resolve hanging on the edge of the void along with her dangling boot. It was the sheer excitement of the moment that finally pushed her over the edge.
She was startled when a cool gust of wind blasted her now exposed toes, an unexpected, but not unpleasant sensation. Nigel made some sound that was not any sort of word she could recognize, and the rest of it caught in his throat. They watched in silence as the brown speck that had been her boot seconds ago, receded into the distance. It seemed like time was standing still, as the tiny speck fell toward the water. She expected a noise, or a splash, or something, but they were to far away from the water. They stood in silence and they both looked at her stockinged foot hanging off the edge of the terrace. It was going to remain exposed for quite a while she told herself.
"Darn it," she said, sounding not at all concerned. She smiled warmly at Nigel and turned toward him, her eyes gleaming as they met his. She held the handrail with one hand and balanced on her remaining boot, rubbing her exposed arch over the laces and resting her silky painted toes on top of the polished leather. She made a point of looking down at her bare toes, remarking that she would have to make it home through the city streets with her stockinged foot. By looking at her stocking, and not at, Nigel, she knew she was allowing him to look at her and take in the situation without feeling embarrassed. After another minute or two of shameless flirting, she clutched his arm, exclaiming in an overacted voice, "I don't want to ruin my stocking on the rough concrete, it's all I have left!"
Nigel slipped his arm behind her back and picked her up in one fluid motion, carrying her through the open doorwall and depositing her neatly on the expensive carpeting. She was more surprised than anything, and she didn't know quite what to say when they found themselves facing each other, mere inches apart. She put both arms around his neck and kissed him lightly, pulling back to look at him again. "That went well," she told herself, and kissed him again. She hooked her arm around his and led him back into the hall, in the direction of the sales office, her singular heel tapping out an odd rhythm as they walked. "This is certainly an impressive project," she said, as the walked toward the elevators. She wondered what would happen next.
"Well you haven't seen the most impressive part yet," he replied confidently. "The Empress Palace is one of the only five-star hotels in this part of the country. I was hoping you would join me in the dining room for dinner this evening."
"Oh I couldn't possibly, I..." she said, her voice trailing of just as the elevator arrived.
"Forgive me," he said solemnly. The elevator doors close behind them. ";I should have inquired as to your plans for the evening.."
"Oh no, it's not that, it's just that...well I would feel under dressed even if I hadn't lost my boot. If I had known, I would have dressed for dinner."
"Nonsense. You look perfectly elegant, and I assure you that you will be the most beautiful woman in the room," he said. She did not reply, but he knew she was considering the offer. "You cannot refuse my invitation, or my life will be ruined." He added playfully.
She saw the winning smile, and she knew she couldn't resist. "Even though it's an outlandish lie, I wouldn't want to be responsible for ruining your life I guess." The door opened to the sixteenth floor and she knew she had caught him in another lie: She would certainly not be the most beautiful woman in this room. There was a small podium outside the dining room entrance, and behind it stood one of the most stunning women she had ever seen. She looked like that girl from "Friends" she thought, Courteney Cox, only not so skinny. Her hair was dark brown, almost black, and her eyes matched her hair. She wore a black skirt just longer than knee length, and a white silk blouse under a black double-breasted jacket, giving the overall effect of a tuxedo of sorts. The blouse was buttoned to the top and had a large gold brooch pinned at the top. Her legs were slender, clad in white sheer stockings that ended with a pair of three inch classic patent leather pumps, one of which was planted on the polished oak flooring, the other casually hooked behind her ankle, the toe tapping on the hardwood surface. Even in heels, Maria thought that she was hardly five feet tall. A shiny gold pin told them that Cassandra was her name, as they waited a moment for her to finish taking a phone reservation. "May I help you?" she inquired, hanging up the phone, her eyes instantly focused on Maria's stockinged foot.
"Two for dinner please," Nigel said politely, and added, "We don't have a reservation."
"We're not that busy this evening, but..." she left her sentence unfinished, hanging in the air. When Nigel met her gaze evenly, she finally added, "Well, we have a dress code you see, and this is a Five Star restaurant." Her eyes glancing back to Maria's mismatched feet.
"I agree that my necktie is a little bit loud," he said, injecting a little humor into the situation, " but I assure you that I will not disturb the other patrons with it." Please show us to our table," he said politely but firmly.
"We could just come back some other time," Maria offered, grabbing Nigel's arm and pulling him subtly.
"Sir, I don't believe we can accommodate you. We have to maintain a certain standard," Cassandra said, her eyes looking fiery
Nigel remained solidly in place. "Might I speak to the manager?" he asked, sounding more British than usual.
"I am the Dining Room Manager," she replied, glaring at him.
"I'm terribly sorry, by manager, I meant Mr. Van Gallier, the hotel General Manager. Would you be so kind as to dial his extension for me?"
Cassandra picked up the phone and punched four buttons, speaking tersely to the operator. After a moment, she handed the phone to Nigel.
"Luther, Nigel here." There was a long pause as he listened. "Luther, I am dining with a client and I am having trouble getting a table. I would appreciate you assistance at once." Another brief pause and he handed the phone back to Cassandra. In spite of her tan face and evening make up, the color drained from her face and she looked ashen as she replaced the phone on the desktop. "Right this way Mr. Grant," she said, leading them into the Dining Room. The ceiling was twenty feet high and large crystal chandeliers hung throughout the room. She led them past a piano player seated at a grand piano, and across the room to a table in the corner. The window looked out onto the plaza at the base of Sterns Tower, and beyond it, she could see the river that had recently swallowed her boot.
"Mr. Grant, I must apologize, and I certainly meant no offense to you. If there is anything I can do for you, please ask," Cassandra said, looking very agitated.
"As a matter of fact there is something," Nigel said. "I would appreciate it if you would attend to us personally this evening."
It was perfectly clear from the look on her face that she was not pleased with the prospect of being their "waitress" but it was equally clear that she could not refuse. "It would be my pleasure," she said unconvincingly. "If you will excuse me a moment, I will bring the wine list for you," she said, and walked away at a brisk pace.
Maria giggled as when she had gone. "Are you Van Gallier's boss or something?" she asked Nigel.
"Actually, I'm everyone's boss," he said, "Colin Sterns is my grandfather."
Maria felt her face getting warm. For the last two hours, she had been playing the unwitting Cinderella to one of the richest men in the world. "I'm sorry, I didn't know, I-I-I..."
"No need to be sorry, really," he said lightly, "If you could select a grandfather for yourself, Colin Sterns would be a very good selection indeed."
Cassandra returned with the large leather bound wine list, and Nigel ordered an expensive Bordeaux. "Would you like anything else?" Cassandra asked in a controlled and professional voice. Maria asked where the ladies room was and excused her self, striding across the dining room. At some point, she had removed her other boot under the table and she navigated her way through the dining room in her stockinged feet.
"Would you like anything else?" Cassandra repeated.
"Your shoes," he said matter of factly.
"My, wh-excuse me sir?"
"Please remove your shoes," he repeated, and looked at her expectantly, holding out both hands. "That woman is a very important client and I will not have her feeling self conscious on account of your dress code."
Cassandra stood in the center of the dining room weighing her options, which were few. Finally, she shifted her weight back and forth and worked her heel out of one shoe. Her foot was exquisite he thought, very petite, no more than a size five, with a very high arch and perfectly aligned painted toes. The white stocking had a reinforced toe and the heel had a lace pattern that wound its way up the back of her tiny ankle. Her toes were painted a ruby color that was visible, even through the stockings. As she worked her other foot out of the glistening black pump, she took a half step backward, leaving a perfect footprint on the polished oak floor, which evaporated after a few seconds. Her feet must be as hot as her temper, he thought. She picked up the empty shoes and placed them in his hands without a word, but when he set them on the table, she reached out as if to take them back.
"Please, don't," she said, putting her hand on his arm. "I'm sure they are...well, hot," she said diplomatically.
"Not to worry," he said, placing them in the center of the table. He grabbed the centerpiece and pulled several carnations out of the floral arrangement, placing them on his dinner plate. With his knife, he cut the stems off close to the flowers, and then arranged the blooms inside of the empty shoes. "That should do nicely," he said.
It was so ridiculous that Cassandra had to smile in spite of herself. A young woman came to the table and filled the water glasses, looking at Cassandra's delicate feet and toes, but seeming unconcerned.
"Will there be anything else?" Cassandra asked. Nigel nodded in the direction of the girl with the water. Cassandra said, in her manager voice, "LeAnne, would you please remove your shoes and leave them here?"
"Cool," she said, kicking off the flat lace ups.
"Socks too," Cassandra said, earning a shrug from LeAnne, who removed her socks and dropped them to the floor with out ceremony. LeAnne removed two of the four place settings and went about her business seeming unconcerned. As she was refilling the water glasses several tables away, Maria passed by her on the way from the ladies room, and didn't fail to notice LeAnnes bare feet. She continued on but looking very puzzled. As she approached the table, she saw Cassandra, who appeared much more relaxed, but not nearly as tall, standing with her white stockinged toes flexing on the hardwood floor.
"We have decided to change the dress code this evening," Cassandra said, and padded silently around Maria to pull out the chair for her. Maria eyed the new patent leather centerpiece and burst out laughing, Nigel and Cassandra joining in.
"I'll back momentarily with menus," Cassandra said, and with a conspiratorial smile added,"and I'll tell you about this evenings other specials."
Snowman
