Walking Shoes by Lynne Gentry

Author:Lynne Gentry
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lynne Gentry
Published: 2017-02-12T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

Thirty minutes later, Leona stood in the middle of Roxie’s posh master bedroom clutching a file folder containing two copies of a still-smoking, freshly printed résumé and a glowing letter of reference from Roxanne Brewer, owner of Brewer’s Auto Parts. “I don’t think it would look professional if you tagged along to my interview.”

“Take a chill pill, Leona.” Roxie stepped out of her walk-in closet, loaded with several clothing options. “I’m just saying it won’t hurt Ivan Tucker to remember Brewer’s Auto is one of the Messenger’s best advertisers. And that’s not even counting the expensive Christmas center spread we take out every year.” She held a jacket under Leona’s chin, wrinkled her nose, and tossed it on the bed. “I don’t have a problem reminding the editor he owes me a few favors.” She dumped the pile, returning to the closet. The sound of hangers whizzing along the rod got mixed up with her mumbling.

“Roxie, if anyone owes you . . . it’s me.” Leona laid the folder on the dupioni silk duvet, a testament to her business-roughened friend’s softer side.

Roxie came out armed with one more choice, a stunning Liz Claiborne suit, complete with crisp white cotton blouse, and black Anne Klein pumps. Not bad for a parts lady. “Black is slimming.”

Leona squirmed her way into the worsted-wool skirt and tugged on the zipper. The expensive fabric felt foreign, like she was a sausage stuffed into someone else’s skin. Leona wiggled her toes around the wad of toilet paper Roxie had crammed into the toes of her half-size-too-large shiny shoes. “I hope I don’t break my neck trying to walk in your slingbacks.”

“So hate me. I couldn’t bear sending you into the world dressed like a charity case.” Roxie tucked a stray strand of Leona’s hair behind her ear, a pleased smile lighting her face. She turned Leona’s body to face the bank of full-length mirrors lining the wall opposite the massive poster bed. “Now you look like the ace reporter you are.”

Leona had to admit the transformation was astounding. “Reporter-wannabe.”

“Same thing.” Roxie led her to the tailored-suede chaise. “We’ve got a minute. Let’s go over this résumé one more time.”

“I don’t—”

“You want to end up selling car parts with me?” Roxie opened the file. “I didn’t think so. Besides, I’m not willing to risk the undoing of our delicious friendship with too much togetherness.” She perched her reading glasses on the end of her nose. “So, tell me, Mrs. Harper, tell me about your responsibilities down at the church?” Her dead-on imitation of Ivan’s nasal drawl brought a shared snicker.

Taking a moment, Leona considered her sparse options. She could list the Ladies Day Committee she headed every spring. Pulling off the spiritual extravaganza sucked up a lot of time, plus it forced her to work with Maxine Davis, so she should get extra credit for that one.

Leona chewed on her lower lip. She probably had a couple of gold stars in her crown for eighteen years in the toddler nursery.

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