If The Shoe Fits (Some Girls Do It #8) - May Sage Page 0,1

a new house deposit, and she was probably never going to see the Eiffel Tower. She couldn't kid herself into thinking that she'd see any of her deposit from the landlord, especially if Sarah had indeed started the fire. She doubted her insurance was going to reimburse any of her things, either.

Maybe she should stay with her parents for a little while. Regroup, save some money on rent. They lived on Long Island—the commute into Manhattan was doable. The very thought made her want to shave her head and run down Fifth Avenue naked.

Might as well entirely embrace madness.

"We're going to get you to the hospital now. Can we contact anyone for you?"

"I already called." She waved her phone. "Hey, did everyone get out all right?"

He smiled at her, not unkindly. "Don't worry, everyone is accounted for, that we can tell."

"Have they said where the fire came from?" Helene tilted her chin toward the firemen, still at work with their fire hoses.

The paramedic shook his head in disbelief. "Someone left burgers in a pan on a gas stove and went to bed, by the looks of it. Can you believe that?"

Could she ever.

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