Read Online If the Shoe Kills by Lynn Cahoon - Free Book Online

walked into the shop. She’d started a running/diet program last summer, but from what I’d seen, her progress had slowed, so she still appeared five feet tall and five feet wide. She waved and met me at the coffee bar. “Give me a skinny latte with a vanilla shot, please. I’m treating myself.”
    â€œComing right up.” I started making the drink. Avoiding the holiday festival discussion as long as possible, I focused on her new employee. “So, how’s Matt working out?”
    Her face turned beet red from the top of her fake blond hair to the edge of her neck that showed in her running gear. She shuddered. Her voice shook when she spoke. “Matt?”
    Oh God, don’t let there be another problem. “Yeah, the intern I dropped off Tuesday night? He did show up Thursday, right? I haven’t talked to anyone over at the Work Today place since Ted’s”—I paused, then chose the safest word choice—“death.”
    Darla waved her hand. “Oh no, there’s not a problem. He showed up right on time on Thursday and even fixed the door on the shed. He’s very handy around the place.”
    I handed her the drink, and as I rang up her order and gave her change, I wondered about how handy Matt really was. Darla was smitten, that was obvious. I just hoped she wouldn’t get her heart broken by this temporary person in her life. “I’m glad. Sasha’s been a godsend around here, especially with the increase in evening shopping traffic.”
    Darla sipped on her drink. She glanced around the empty shop. “You’re not very busy for a Saturday.”
    I shrugged. “It should pick up later, when Toby’s on shift. The boy brings in the customers.”
    She nodded, thoughtfully. “I guess a lot of people are attracted to a handsome man.”
    â€œDuh. Wouldn’t you be?” I laughed and resumed checking out cookbooks. “You don’t know of a good how-to-host-a-holiday-dinner guide, do you?”
    Darla chuckled. “The first Thanksgiving is getting to you?”
    This time it was my turn to blush. “Is it that obvious? I just don’t want to embarrass myself.”
    â€œYou can’t. Holidays are about getting people who care about each other together, not what’s actually served on the table. You’ll do fine, you have a good heart.” Darla smiled. “Although if you want, I can write a series on Thanksgiving disasters for the Examiner . Give you some ideas of what not to do.”
    My jaw set. “Ugh. I’m not sure I want to know about what can go wrong.”
    â€œMostly it’s a lot of dumb things. Or people being dumb because of too much alcohol. Each year in the news, there are a lot of fires caused by deep-fried turkeys.” Darla laughed. “My stepdad tried that one year when I was a kid, total disaster.”
    â€œI promise no deep-fried turkey. I’m going traditional as much as possible.” I paused. “So, you like Matt? I mean, as an employee?”
    There was that blush again. “He’s great. Better than I could have expected. I thought since Ted had been having such problems placing this group, we might have gotten the dregs. But Matt told me a story that explained a lot.”
    â€œWhat story?” I pushed aside the laptop. I’d search later.
    Darla squirmed a little in her chair. “I hate to speak ill of the dead, but I’ll make an exception for Ted.” She leaned forward. “You know he told the mayor he’d had issues placing these ten, so that’s not a secret.”
    I’d wondered about that. Everyone I talked to said how well the placements had turned out, not something I’d expected from Ted’s evaluation of the group. “So, what was the secret?”
    â€œMatt said that Ted told him once that he had considered him for an assignment a month ago, but he had placed a girl in that spot