The Heart That's Meant to Love You

Chapter 1: Naomi

A shoe store. Not the place Naomi Rowe thought when she heard the words "brand management". Probably not what her mother imagined, either. That was, in its own way, what made the job so perfect. 

The fact that the shoe shop was a designer boutique made it impossible for Naomi's mother to complain about it. The fact that Naomi chose the job herself made it that much more satisfying. 

One day, Naomi knew, she would have to give up the job in favor of the dream. The dream she and her mother had held like a fragile baby chick for so long now. Naomi would, one day, enter her mother's company as a manager. Then? Politics. Specifically, Foreign Affairs. 

For now, Naomi found herself content to be a shop assistant at Michele Gardenia. Naomi had never been capable of outright rebellion. Passive-agressiveness fit her style better. 

A haircut an inch too short. Arriving at dinner fifteen minutes late. Working in a shoe store while she finished her final semester at college. 

As much as she loved her mother, as much as she wanted to achieve their dream, Naomi found that sometimes it suffocated her. The strict schedules and pressure to perform ate away at her determination, but never for long. Once she accomplished the dream, her mother would be proud. Naomi wanted her mother to be proud of her, always.

A chime signified the entrance of a new customer. Naomi spun to greet them. "Welcome to Michele Gardenia, how may I assist you today?" 

The woman arched a brow, as if Naomi's presence annoyed her. "I'm searching for a pair of shoes for my daughter's wedding." 

"Is there something you had in mind?" 

"The heel can't be too high, and it can't be a dark color. I'd like Swarovski crystals on it. Oh! And it absolutely has to have a good tread." 

Naomi smiled. Honestly, genuinely smiled. There were few things more satisfying than choosing shoes to fit a customer's tastes. It was an art, pure and simple. 

"Our shoes are known for their durability, as well as their beauty. Do you know your shoe size?"

The woman mumbled a number, but Naomi paid close attention. 

Naomi motioned the woman toward a plush bench against the wall. "If you would be so kind as to wait here, I think I have just the thing." 

Naomi didn't know if her mother would approve of her ability as a shop assistant, but it presented fun where she had never had any. 

Choosing a color to suit a person had always been an interest of Naomi's. Color expressed feelings, thoughts, and emotions. As far as Naomi was concerned, one couldn't have enough color in their life. Yet, she had lived her life swathed in blacks, grays, and khakis. Too bright a color brought unwanted attention. 

Naomi scanned the shelves in the back room, her fingers lingering over boxes and titles until she found the shoes she sought. 

Even the stingiest customers melted at the sight of these shoes. They could win over icy hearts. That's part of what made them wonderful. 

Naomi returned to the brightly lit storefront, the single box tucked neatly under one arm. Gingerly, she opened the top and held out the box so that the customer could see. 

"What do you think of these?" 

Sparkling silver kitten heels beamed from their place, Swarovski crystals atop them glittering in the light. 

"Well... they're not bad." the woman cleared her throat as if it hurt to utter the compliment. 

"Would you like to try them on?" 

"As long as you've brought them..." 

Naomi had seen the hesitance before. Fake, all of it. These particular shoes never failed to receive all the love their new owner had to give. Naomi knew a good sales tactic when she saw one. 

One foot at a time, Naomi assisted the woman to slip into the beautiful heels. "Please stand and walk a few steps to see if they're comfortable." 

The woman stood to her feet and took a step away. 

Naomi's phone buzzed in her pocket. She quickly pulled it out to check. Her mother. 

What time do you get off from work?

"They're very comfortable." The customer turned to walk back toward Naomi. 

Naomi shoved her phone back into her pocket and put on her smile again. "I'm so glad. May I help you pay for your purchase?" 

The woman sank onto the bench and slipped her feet from the shoes. "Yes, please." 

Strange, how someone's attitude could change in the blink of an eye. From cold to friendly. From aloof to warm. Naomi had seen it happen many times, all dependent on the level of service she provided. People only wanted to feel better about themselves. They didn't care if the person serving them had feelings or thoughts. 

But... if they were going to help Naomi to get a paycheck, didn't she benefit from it, as well? 

Life was a series of exchanges like that. One day, Naomi would be on the other end of the exchange. She should pay her dues now, in preparation for later. 

Her phone buzzed again. Naomi pulled it out just long enough to check the message. 

I'll pick you up. 

Stifling a sigh, Naomi replaced the phone in her pocket. She should hurry, so she could respond in a timely manner. 

Thankfully, the woman didn't have much to say. She paid for the shoes, accepted the bag with a tight smile, and sailed out the door. 

Naomi reached for her phone as it buzzed again. 

Naomi?

Still working. Shift ends at 7. Naomi pressed send, thankful when it went through without a hitch. 

The phone buzzed one last time. 

I'll pick you up. 

Of course. Naomi had expected nothing less. She didn't have her own vehicle and her mother didn't approve of her walking alone. The streets were dangerous. 

Naomi quickly hid her phone when her manager walked into the room. They had already had two conversations about it in the past week. Apparently, her manager didn't like it when Naomi checked her phone, even when no one was in the shop with her. 

"A sale?" Naomi's manager asked. 

Naomi nodded. "The Stellas." 

"Those sure are popular this season." The manager checked a list under the counter, made a note, and left. 

Just in time for Naomi's phone to buzz one last time. 

See you at 7 sharp.