10.THE HEEL TEST

After the shopping was finished, Emma was finally freed from the pile of clothes she had been holding while a shop assistant packed everything away. She watched the woman load the designer bags, then slowly shifted her gaze to her boss. She rolled her eyes, exhausted, and let out a loud yawn.

"Miss Jones, follow me," Jerry said, turning on his heel and walking away.

Emma growled, wiggling her tired body. "If he wanted to shop for his fiancée, why involve me?" she muttered, begrudgingly dragging her feet after him.

When they reached another section, Jerry gestured for her to put on a pair of heels. Emma glanced awkwardly at the shoes, then at Jerry, who was already looking impatient.

"Miss Jones, put on the heels."

"Oh, the thing is... I don't really wear heels."

"Huh?"

"I don't know how to walk in them," Emma admitted, covering her face. It was mortifying for a woman to admit she couldn't handle a simple pair of shoes.

"I thought as much. Either way, you don't have a choice," Jerry said, his scowl deepening.

Emma sighed.

She had hoped she could reason with the man, but who was she kidding? She stepped into the heels, wobbling precariously before steadying herself.

"Well?" Jerry drawled, raising a brow. Emma stared at the shoes as if they were alien artifacts, blinking softly. She wasn't sure what he meant by "well."

"Walk," Jerry commanded. "I shouldn't have to spell everything out. You don't have a choice, so move."

"Sir, can I maybe..." One of the shop assistants started to step forward to help, but Jerry cut her off instantly.

Two shop assistants exchanged confused glances.

"I thought she was the fiancée," one whispered.

The other watched Emma nearly glare holes into Jerry's back.

"If that's love... I'm staying single."

They had initially assumed Emma was the famous fiancée they’d heard rumors about, but watching them interact now, they were confused. They didn't look like a couple in love; they looked like two long-lost enemies reunited after a decade of warfare.

"Who asked for your help? Get lost. Don't you have anything else to do? She has to learn on her own." The assistant bowed quickly and scurried away, clearly rattled .

Emma took a step, wobbled, and nearly tipped over, clutching a display shelf to steady herself.

She glanced at Jerry, who remained rooted to the spot, completely indifferent to whether she face-planted or not. *He doesn't even care if I fall,* she thought, glaring at him as she stood up straight again.

"Pathetic," Jerry scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Wow," Emma muttered, rolling her eyes at the shelf. *This guy doesn't have an ounce of respect.*

She made a mental note to find out who his fiancée was—heck, she needed to check if the woman had undergone brain surgery recently to willingly choose to spend her life with this man.

The only good qualities he possessed were his looks and his bank account, and honestly, the "looks" part was wearing thin under the weight of his arrogance.

*I don't think any woman would tolerate this nonsense, even if she loved money,* Emma thought. *I certainly couldn't live with this annoying pest.*

"Don't space out whenever you're with me. Walk," Jerry ordered.

Emma sighed, holding onto the edge of the shelving unit to take tiny, shuffling steps toward him.

Jerry knew she wouldn't learn a thing while clinging to the shelf, but he caught himself before saying it.

Her expression was a mix of worry and determination that he found oddly amusing. He wasn't even aware of the tiny smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

When she finally reached him, she let go of the shelf and shot him a triumphant look, expecting a shred of praise.

Jerry’s brow furrowed. "Don't smile like that. Try to work faster—you walk like a snail."

He turned on his heel and walked away, leaving her dumbstruck while a genuine, full-blown smirk plastered his face.

Emma waited for him to move further away, then decided to practice. "Finally,"

she breathed, wiping a bead of sweat from her temple. Who knew learning to walk in heels was so difficult?

The pair she’d borrowed from Kristie hadn't been this high, nor this thin.

She practiced for a moment, still leaning against the shelf.

She took a step carefully a small smile on her face .

Better .

Better again .

"See I am getting the hang of this ," she whispered to herself.

Feeling a surge of confidence, she tried to walk normally instead of carefully placing each foot.

The thin heel twisted beneath her foot.

" Ahhh...! "

As she started to plummet, the door swung open.

Jerry hearing Emma shriek turned just to see her about to fall , he quickly reacted moving forward .

Before she could hit the floor an arm wrapped around her waist .

The force of her fall sent them both crashing onto a long velvet couch.

Emma’s eyes went wide.

Her face was pressed against his shoulder, her lips brushing the sensitive skin of his neck.

Jerry stiffened, his breath hitching. His hand was wrapped loosely around her waist, and she remained frozen, like a statue.

Emma finally snapped out of her trance.

She scrambled away from his grip, standing upright and frantically smoothing her messy hair while avoiding his gaze. *Oh, he’s definitely going to bury me alive for this,* she thought.

Jerry cleared his throat, breaking the thick, awkward silence.

He stood up adjusting his cuff and straighten his suit before walking towards the exit .

" follow me," she heard him mutter. She barely caught the instruction.

Emma quickly kicked off the heels, shoved her sneakers back on, and scurried out of the room after him.