Page 28 of The Naughty Professor
The man almost dropped his phone.Lorna cackled so hard her bracelets jingled.“You’re out of control!”
“And you’re jealous,” I shot back.
By the time we reached Nordstrom, I’d flirted with a barista, a security guard, and one very startled groundskeeper.Lorna was practically doubled over, wheezing with laughter.“Lord help me, Jax, I haven’t laughed like this in years.”
“Good,” I said, shoving the glass doors open.“Stick with me, baby.I’m your one-man circus.”
The blast of cold air hit me like champagne bubbles.And then—oh, glory!Right in front of me was paradise.Shoes.Racks upon racks, polished leather gleaming under spotlights, sneakers lined like candy, boots standing tall like kings.
I clutched my chest.“Oh, my stars.This is better than sex.”
A salesman appeared like a vision.Early thirties, golden tan, crisp suit that fit just right.His smile was sharp, and I’d swear he winked at me.“Good afternoon.Can I help you find something?”
“Sweetheart,” I purred, stepping closer, “you can help me find myself.”
His smile faltered into surprise, then amusement.Lorna slapped her forehead.“Jax.”
I leaned in as if I were sharing a secret.“You’re so handsome you almost make me forget these shoes exist.Almost.”
The salesman’s ears turned pink.“Well… we have a wide selection.”
“Oh, I bet you do,” I said, giving him the kind of once-over that should have been illegal.
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” Lorna muttered, plastering on a smile.“Why don’t you give us a few minutes, handsome?We’ll pick some pairs to try on, and then you can—uh—help us.”
“Of course,” he said, still staring at me like he wasn’t sure if I was real.Then he disappeared toward the back.
I grabbed Lorna’s arm.“I’m in love.”
“You’re insane.”
“Baby, it’s the same thing.”
We wandered through the racks, and I was like a kid in a candy store.Black leather boots, shiny loafers, pristine white sneakers.I picked up one pair after another, holding them against me like trophies.
“These,” I announced, showing her a pair of glossy oxfords.“I’d wear these to my funeral just so I could rise from the dead in style.”
“Put them in the pile,” Lorna said wearily.
I grabbed some Chelsea boots.“These say, I’m mysterious but also dangerous in bed.”
“Pile.”
Then some sneakers.“These scream, I’m a twink but I lift weights.”
She snorted.“Jesus, Jax.You’re hot, but not a twink.”
I quickly filled my arms with shoes.Other shoppers were staring—some amused, some scandalized.I winked at a middle-aged man in khakis.“Don’t look too long, baby.I might charge you.”
His wife yanked him away by the elbow.
“Lord have mercy,” Lorna groaned.“They’re going to call mall security.”
By the time the salesman returned, I had at least eight pairs piled high.He smiled at me like I was both his dream and his nightmare.“Why don’t you have a seat, sir, and I’ll measure your size?”
“Yes, Daddy,” I said, collapsing into the chair.
The salesman chuckled, setting the boxes down.He sat on that little stool in front of me, and purred, “Just slip your shoes off.”
