Page 2 of If The Shoe Fits

Helene mentally kissed thousands of bucks goodbye. It was definitely Sarah.

Time blurred as she rode the ambulance, and got rushed into the hospital.

She was pondering the mess that was her life, in the waiting area of the hospital, when Cassie burst in, annoyingly perfect even at this time of night.

Her twenty-seven-year old sister used to wear clothes that drowned her petite figure, and style a hair like a librarian—not the naughty kind either. Over the last four years, she'd utterly transformed, changing into a confident, entirely self-aware bombshell. Her sleek blonde bob and bright red lips made her look like she belonged on a magazine. And she'd been on several. She wore Louboutin pumps and a little black dress. Clearly, Helene had interrupted a party.

As soon as she spotted her, Cassie rushed over, walking with the panache of a catwalk model on her four-inch heels. "Oh my God, Helene, how are you doing? Have they seen you yet? Did you inhale loads of smoke? We need to get you something to drink. Water, coffee, hot chocolate?" Words rushed out of her mouth in a continuous flow, as they always did when Cassie was nervous.

Helene managed to crack a smile. "I'm fine, I think. Maybe in shock. They haven't seen me yet. I don't think they will for some time." The hospital's white-and-green waiting room was packed. "You should go back to your party, really. If you could leave me some cash for a cab, I can…"

She could what? Get to Long Island? She grimaced.

"Don't be an idiot, Helene." Cassie sat next to her. "I'll stay with you. You're sure you're fine? Don't you feel thirsty? Hungry?"

Helene shook her head. Numb was what she felt. And numb was good, given the fact that the alternative was full-blown panic.Cassie's next question got her attention."Have you called Mom and Dad, yet?"

Helene's eyes bulged. "No way. You're not calling them either. It's the middle of the night. And you know how they get."

The last thing she needed was a lecture right now.

Cassie bit her lip. "They'd want to know."

"Why? I'm fine," she insisted. "No need to worry them at this time. Tomorrow's soon enough."

Her sister conceded her point. "I have to text Carter. He's worried about you, too."

Her perfect sister's perfect husband. Helene could believe that the guy was worried for her. They got along just fine. When Helene had first heard that her sister was going out with Carter Harris—the Carter Harris—she'd thought that the appeal had been his appearance, or even his wallet, but Carter was fun. He liked to chill to popular movies, go to the theatre, and had an appreciation for old rock. More importantly, he was madly in love with Cassie. From the start, he'd been good for her. She burst out of her shell thanks to him. Helene had nothing but respect for him. Although she had to admit, he intimidated her. Carter was too wealthy. He and his friend discussed million-dollar investments over drinks. Helene had stopped accepting Cassie's invitations because their circle might as well be another species, as far as she was concerned.

"What lavish party did I interrupt? You look lovely," Helene said.

"We were just hanging out at Trick and Lucy’s, don't sweat it." Another intimidating power couple, though like Carter, they were surprisingly nice, in person.

"When I hang out with my friends, I wear sweats." That wasn't exactly accurate: Helene wasn't hanging out with anyone at all, these days.She went out withcouple of old college pals on weekends, occasionally, but they weren't close enough to spend time at each other's places.

"We went out for dinner before," Cassie explained, typing furiously on her phone's screen. She shoved the device in a round clutch bag, and smiled up to her. "Carter asked Vera, the new housekeeper, to prepare one of the guest rooms for you. He says you can stay as long as you'd like."

Helen felt her cheeks heat. She wasn't surprised that the offer had come from her brother-in-law rather than Cassie; he was more practical, while Cassie would have thought about her emotional needs, first. "That's really nice. I don't have anything on me. I'll get my bank to send me new cards, and start looking for a new place Monday. I'll be out of your hair in no time, promise."

Her sister rolled her eyes. "As long as you'd like," she emphasized. "If you stayed a year, I'd be delighted. Plus, the house is too big for us, anyway."

She was right there. They'd bought a ridiculously gorgeous townhouse overlooking Central Park.

"All the same, I need to find a place soon." After a beat, she added, "Without Sarah."

She might have to get another roommate, given how expensive NYC rent could be, but if she did, it'd be someone with fewer proclivities toward pyrotechnics.

She was seen three hours later. The doctor said her vitals were good, and she didn't appear to be in shock, surprisingly. They offered to observe her for the new few hours—when Helene declined, they recommended she avoid driving, and made sure someone was available to help her in case she needed it.

"Like anyone drives in the city," Helene grumbled.

Cassie straightened her spine. "I'll stay with her all day. She's coming home with me."

Helene could only sigh. "You've always liked to play nurse." Cassie was a natural caregiver—she always made sure everyone around her was comfortable.

"And for once, you have to let me," Cassie replied smugly.

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