These Boots Were Made for Stomping by Julie Kenner Read Free Book Online Page A

marched me to my seat. So now
     I was standing by my chair instead of by the doorway.”
    “You sat down, right?”
    “Nope,” Lydia said. “I was going to, but Mr. Stout called me back to the door. And even though my feet didn’t seem really
     keen on going, I managed to get moving in that direction.” The whole feet thing was rather bizarre, actually, and Lydia wasn’t
     sure she liked it. Ever since she first put the shoes on, the shoes seemed to be leading the show.
    “He totally read me the riot act for not getting to work on time, for not turning in the report on time, and for forgetting
     a simple task like the snacks.”
    “But you did turn the report in on time,” her loyal best friend replied, suitably indignant.
    “And I tried to tell him that,” Lydia said. “I had this whole long spiel about how the report had been on his desk for hours
     yesterday, and that he was the one who’d made me stay late even though I’d done all my work, and that it was completely unfair
     of him to assume that I’d blown off getting doughnuts when, in fact, I’d been saving a girl from being mugged.”
    “No way! You go, girl!”
    “No, no,” Lydia rushed to correct. “I said I tried . It was all there in my head, but I couldn’t quite get it past my lips.”
    “Lydia!”
    “Well, I tried.”
    “You’re telling me you raced into an alley to fight a guy with a gun, but you couldn’t tell Mr. Stout to go jump in a lake?”
    “Pretty much,” Lydia said miserably.
    “So then what?”
    “Then he had me sit back down, I went through the whole stupid meeting, went back to my desk and finished two projects, and,
     as I was shutting down my computer, Mr. Stout came by and fired me.”
    “No way.”
    “Way,” Lydia said.
    “And you still didn’t say anything?”
    Lydia shook her head, looking down at the floor. “I’d taken off my shoes and was kind of sitting there relaxing, you know?
     And I couldn’t open my mouth. He fired me and I just sat there and took it. I even thanked him.” The memory washed over her,
     making her shudder.
    “You didn’t!”
    “I totally did. I’m such a dweeb.”
    “You are not. You rescued that girl. That has to count for something.”
    Lydia cocked her head and crossed her arms over her chest, leaning back in her chair as she examined her friend. “Yeah, it
     counts for the fact that I have good taste in shoes.” She pointed at the things. “ These guys did it. Not me.”
    “ Phhhbtt, ” Amy retorted, calling on her cunning intellect to draw up that snappy comeback. “Shoes can’t make something out of nothing.
     It’s in there.” She leaned across the table and tapped Lydia on the chest. “It’s in you.”
    “Maybe,” Lydia said, but her heart wasn’t in it.
    “So, what are you going to do? For a job, I mean?”
    Lydia frowned, because that little problem had crossed her mind, too. “I’m not entirely sure,” she admitted.
    “Maybe the Silver Streak can find you a job,” Amy suggested.
    “I doubt it,” Lydia said. “I don’t even know where to find him, and—”
    “I was joking,” Amy said. “That was my subtle ploy to lead you into telling me about him.”
    And so Lydia did. Everything from the way she’d found the girl in the alley, to how Silver had shown up, looking all sexy
     and competent, to the electric tingle she’d felt when he’d touched her hand.
    “Sparks?” Amy asked. “There were really sparks? Oh, my God, Lyd. I’m practically swooning.”
    “Well, I thought there were sparks,” Lydia said. “I’m not so sure about him. And since I haven’t a clue how to find him, I guess it
     doesn’t much matter.” How stupid had she been, rushing off to work when her fantasy man was right there? And for what? To
     get fired?
    Idiot, idiot, idiot!
    “Maybe if you go back to that alley . . .” Amy suggested.
    Lydia shook her head, not wanting to get her hopes up. “Let’s get real. The guy’s a freakin’ superhero.