If The Shoe Fits (Some Girls Do It #8) - May Sage Page 0,14

appealing she was in that moment.

Cade stepped sideways and back, deliberate, slowly, adjusting his grip. "I can't blame you. Following isn't as easy as most people make it out to be. It requires a degree of trust." And in that moment, he very much wanted her to give in to him. He adjusted his hand in hers. "Let me lead, Helene."

He felt the moment she gave in, the moment she stopped fighting to choose the direction or stay in place.

"Good girl."

"I'm not a little girl, Mr. Lawson."

He cocked an eyebrow. "I should hope not." It wouldn't do to have the sort of thoughts he had about her otherwise.

Cade couldn't even begin to guess at her age, but she certainly was all woman.

"I don't get why most men insist on calling us girls."

Proud and sure of her place in the world. He was starting to form a clear picture of Helene in his mind.

And he liked it.

"We say girls, because most women enjoy the endearment, and we aim to please."

She snorted.

"What would you like me to call you?"

Her eyes widened. "You could always go with Helene."

"The face that launched a thousand ships," he quoted. That certainly fit her.

"A fan of the classics?" she asked. She was getting familiar with the waltz. She'd surrendered, letting him choose the pace, the direction of their steps. Emboldened, Cade crossed his arms, letting her twirl on her heels, and caught her after a spin.

She chuckled, enjoying herself almost as much as he did.

"Homer was a favorite of mine as a child. I enjoyed the battles, the tales of betrayal. Above all, I enjoyed what it said of humanity."

"That we're all pawns to be moved across a chessboard by indifferent gods?" she shot back, not missing a beat.

"Homer painted a picture of human nature based on our most common flaws. Hubris, misplaced trust, curiosity, pride. Their nature was their downfall, in the end. If the Trojans had been less arrogant, less certain of their victory, they would have burned that horse at the gate."

"They could also just have listened to Cassandra to begin with. I think the biggest flaw was their dismissal of anyone with a vagina."

Cade tried, but he couldn't remember having a conversation this stimulating with anyone other than his handful of friends. Even then, they weren't keen on discussing literature with him.

"That certain would have saved them a hell of a lot of pain. But then again, there wouldn't be much of a story if they'd killed Paris early on."

"There might have been a story. Just not a tragic one." Helene grinned, and asked, "So, what's your hamartia?"

"You tell me. If it was that easy to pinpoint one's flaw, no one would have any."

"You assume people want to change."

"You don't?"

Her new confidence allowed for him to lead them through a smooth waltz until the last note died. But he hadn't had enough of her. Not even nearly. Keeping her hand in his, he led her to the bar, and gestured at a bartender.

"Whatever the lady would like."

"Anything wet and white, please."

Cade choked on his saliva, and coughed. Fuck. The last thing he needed was to think of her in relation to wet and white things, right here in the middle of a crowded room.

But here he was, anyway.

She didn't miss a beat. "Get your mind out of the gutter, Lawson."

"You don't get to dictate that, after that order."

The little witch dared wink at him. "It's not my fault you're a perv. I meant wine."

The bartender said nothing, but by the smirk he had a hard time hiding, Cade guessed he agreed with him. "We have Chardonnay, Sauvignon, and champagne—a Veuve Clicquot."

"I'll go for the bubbly."

Cade ordered a scotch, before redirecting their chat. "Well?"

She tilted her chin. "Sorry?"

"You don't think people want to improve themselves, get rid of their flaws?"

"Some people, sure." She shrugged. "Others, less so." She turned to look at the crowd. "Look at them. The people here earn more than the rest of New York City. Maybe their flaw is greed. If it is, do you think they'd want to change?"

Cade turned her question in his mind. He wished he could put it down to bitterness, but she made a certain point, overall.

"You assume that everyone wealthy became that way because of their greed. What about those born into it?"

She frowned.

"James and I got our trust when we finished college. Sure, we could have given it away, and struggled in the workforce like anyone less fortunate. Instead, we chose to build