In Love By Christmas

Theo leaned forward, then caught himself. He glanced around, prepared to argue—of course, I hadn’t been edging closer to see if I could hear the woman’s sunny laughter. That would be impossible. Still, he lingered until he scowled. He’d never been charmed by a picture before.

Theo stepped around the last row of displays and glanced toward the floor-to-ceiling mirrors.

A tall brunette stood on the platform, facing the mirrors. A woman, her blond hair tied back with a frayed piece of plaid fabric, wrestled a gown’s enormous white bow into submission, revealing the one redeeming element of the dress—a low-cut back. Then she gathered the bulky white skirt to tighten the outdated wedding dress around the brunette’s curves.

“Do you see it, Shanna?” The blond woman flattened one of the puffy white shoulders the way Theo used to smash a toasted marshmallow between graham crackers at summer camp.

Theo tilted his head. All he saw was that obnoxiously large bow popping free of the woman’s grip like a broken jack-in-the-box and an excess of ribbons. How had the woman convinced the bride-to-be to try on such an unappealing gown?

The blond woman folded the bow in indignant pleats, forcing it out of sight. She rattled off a series of alterations, her free hand sweeping gracefully along the woman’s side. “Can you envision the dress you described to me? The one we drew together.”

“I see it, Josie.” Hesitation slowed the woman’s words.

Josie Beck.

Everything slowed and rolled inside Theo as if he’d tripped over a speed bump. His focus locked onto the blonde with the colorful voice, but she couldn’t stop his fall into captivation.

“That’s wonderful.” Josie rose on the tips of her boots and peeked over the shoulder of the woman she’d called Shanna. “It’s enough if you can see it in your mind right now.”

“But I can’t afford all these changes to the dress, Josie.”

Josie released the heavy skirt and stepped around the cascade of fabric to face the Shanna.

The brunette’s height concealed Josie’s face, but not the tremor in her voice.

“The dress itself is in your budget, right?” Josie asked.

The woman nodded.

Josie moved closer to Shanna, her face still hidden, but her sure voice more than clear. “Then that’s all you need to pay for.”

Theo rubbed his chin as if he’d done a face-plant, after all. At the very least, Josie should’ve inquired if the woman had any woodworking skills. Then Josie could have gotten her front door repaired in exchange for the dress alterations. A business arrangement should always benefit both parties. Always.

Complimentary services had a place, but not if the business suffered more loss than profit. From the drab exterior to the dated interior, Theo guessed The Rose Petal Boutique was more in the red than the black.

“Penny told me you were an angel. She told me you’d help me out.” Shanna covered her face, her shoulders trembling. Tears splashed against her cheeks, her voice barely a whisper. “I never expected…”

Theo never expected compassion and generosity—it was a compliment and a criticism. A kind heart had no place in business. The weak allowed their emotions to guide their decisions. Theo had stopped being weak in grade school—the summer after his grandmother’s death. The same summer his parents had refused to let him come home. Life rewards the self-reliant, Theo.

Theo backed away.

Josie could keep her kind heart. If she wanted to thrive in the business world and even survive in the upheaval produced by the Taylor family, she needed to develop a harder edge.

“This is the start of your new life.” Josie moved around her client, gathered the bulky train and guided the woman off the platform. Sincerity and resolve fused her words into a convincing argument. “Your wedding day has to be everything you ever dreamed, including your dress.”

Shanna offered Josie a watery thank-you before they disappeared inside the dressing room.

Theo had given his sister the very same promise. A wedding to surpass her dreams. He narrowed his gaze on the thick velvet curtains of the single dressing room.

Could Josie transform the chaotic mess of a dress the woman wore into her dream gown? Could she keep her promise? Theo wasn’t sure.

Josie would need to create an original gown—one that met Theo’s standards—and deliver it finished and ready to wear in less than three weeks. But if the woman insisted on giving away her services for free, word would no doubt spread. Then she’d be stuck in a backlog of charity work. Surely Josie wanted more than to recycle old wedding gowns at a steep discount. Surely Josie valued her work. Unless the dressmaker wasn’t that good.

A tic of irritation pulsed along his jaw. Theo glanced around the space, skipping his gaze over the worn Victorian violet-print couch, the bridal accessory shelves and twin rolling racks bursting with secondhand wedding dresses. Certainly, Josie wouldn’t be so careless with her own creations. If she had any.

Disappointment settled in. He wasn’t seeing anything original. Surely Josie wanted her work displayed. That would give her clients confidence in her skill and ability as a custom dressmaker.

That would reassure him, too. He pulled out his cell phone, certain there were other designers he hadn’t considered. He’d given his word to Adriana. He couldn’t rely on a timid, softhearted dressmaker who doubted herself.

The women emerged from the dressing room. The bride-to-be tugged a knit cap over her long brunette hair. “Josie, you have to come to the wedding. You have to be in the wedding.”

“That’s very kind.” Josie handed Shanna a thick wool scarf. “You have more to think about than me and I need to concentrate on getting your dress ready for your wedding day.”

Josie also needed to concentrate on turning a profit. Wasn’t that the point of a successful business? That was how a business owner earned respect and discovered their value.

Shanna faced the floor-length mirrors and wrapped the long scarf around her neck. “What now?”

Theo should leave and continue his search to find a designer he believed in. One capable of creating and completing an exclusive gown for Adriana in a tight time frame. A gown worthy of the Coast to Coast Living brand.

Josie carried the wedding gown out of the dressing room. Her one arm was completely concealed within the dense layers of ribbons and lace, much like the uncertainty that camouflaged any guarantee in her voice. “I’ll call you for the next fitting in about two weeks.”

About was very indefinite. About invited suspicion and doubt into a client’s mind. That was never good. Would Josie call the woman in ten days or closer to three weeks as both dates fell into the about time frame? Theo never liked sliding time frames. Too much room for error and misinterpretation. He preferred to work with people who committed to a specific date and delivered on their promise.

“I can’t wait.” The bride-to-be brushed past Theo, her face bundled up to her eyes, and disappeared outside.

Theo returned his attention to the photograph of the woman and the dog. Once again, he searched for the reason this one simple picture fascinated him. It was more than the perfectly placed lighting. Or the backdrop. Or the vibrant subjects. If he’d been asked to give a definition for carefree, he’d have chosen the picture. But he’d never been carefree in his life. Never considered such an impractical sentiment until now.

“Sorry to keep you waiting. Mia’s work is exceptional.” Josie appeared beside Theo and pointed to a photograph. “Are you thinking about hiring her?”

“I already have.” It was the woman beside Theo that worried him. He turned toward Josie, extended his hand and, for the first time since middle school, stumbled over his own name.

Her blue eyes were too round, her smile too honestly genuine, her face too guileless. And those wisps of blond hair brushing against her pale cheeks—he’d bet anything the soft curls were natural. She was too natural. Too refreshing. Even more distracting than the photograph. The photograph she was featured in. The one that now seemed to be laughing at him. “Theo Taylor,” he finally managed to say.

She reached for her scarf, rather than his hand. The silk fabric loosened around her neck as her fingers tangled in the frayed ends, as if she was struggling to hide something. “This is an unexpected surprise. I wasn’t aware we’d confirmed a meeting time.”

She was an unexpected surprise. Theo avoided surprises. He never liked the disruption that surprises caused in his routine. Knowing what to expect in any given situation gave him the advantage and that was often the difference between winning or losing. He followed her toward the fitting area. “Can I offer you some business advice? You really shouldn’t give your services away for free.”

Josie draped the measuring tape around her neck, letting the ends twist around her scarf. Disapproval twisted through her voice. “You really shouldn’t eavesdrop on conversations that don’t affect you.”

He shrugged. “Free services are not a sustainable business model. There is no profit in free.”

She walked into her workroom and rolled a dress form in front of her. She eyed him as if he was more distasteful than Shanna’s secondhand wedding dress. “You probably haven’t heard of Penny’s Place.”

The annoyance in her tone set him back. She dared to judge to him. Dared to make herself even more appealing. He centered his focus on her, letting his gaze narrow. “Coast to Coast Living has donated to Penny’s Place every year for the past decade. Penny is well-known for the sanctuary she provides to women in need of a safe place to recover and rebuild their lives.”

“But you’ve never spent time inside Penny’s Place,” she said. “Never met any of the women who live there.”

He didn’t have to stand inside Penny’s Place to understand the value of Penny’s nonprofit organization. The Taylor family and Coast to Coast Living supported many charitable organizations in the city and around the country. He wouldn’t defend himself to her. “I have not.”

“Shanna Jennings—the bride-to-be that just stood on this platform—recently moved out of Penny’s Place.” Josie set her hand on the body form as if to find her balance. Anguish creased her forehead, pulling her eyebrows together. “Her story isn’t mine to share. Shanna has more than earned a fairy-tale wedding. I have the opportunity to be a small part of her new life. That means something to me.”

She had an opportunity to turn a profit, too, and chose not to. Josie acted as if she was being granted permission to work for Shanna, not doing Shanna a large favor. A very large, very free favor.

Josie Beck was obviously a good person. But charity should never stand in the way of profit. Everything had its place. Charity was separate from the daily tasks and standard practices of any business.

He couldn’t recall the last time he’d done something for free. Something for the simple pleasure it gave him. He always considered the business first. Always considered the corporation’s bottom line. Always. And he wouldn’t go soft now because of some selfless, misguided wisp of a dressmaker no matter how much she charmed him.

He picked up the design book that was lying open on the corner of the platform. The drawing was similar to how she’d described the alterations to Shanna. He could almost envision the finished dress. Almost.

He flipped through more pages. Nothing sparked inside him. Nothing leaped from the page and commanded his attention. He wanted more for Adriana. He needed more for his sister’s wedding. His sister might be getting married, but Coast to Coast Living would be reflected in every detail of the day. Perfection was expected.

Josie might be appealing, but Theo feared she lacked the experience and sophistication required for such an event. “I’m sorry for interrupting your morning, but I don’t see anything suitable for my sister.”

She yanked the book out of Theo’s hands. Her fingers clutched the binder and it seemed as if she was debating whether or not to bash him on the side of the head. “These designs are for my current clientele, modest and affordable.” He could hear the irritation in her voice. Her words came out like finely sharpened tacks.

Theo crossed his arms over his chest, blocking her barbs. He refused to be swayed. “And not original.”

She pressed her design book into the seat cushion of the couch and held her position.

“You’re using the base of consignment dresses to build from,” he accused. He couldn’t back down. He’d given his word to his sister. Not to mention the other promises he’d made. He had a family and company to protect. “Rather than the dresses being your own work from start to finish.”

She straightened and faced him. Anger lit her gaze. “When I’m finished, you won’t be able to tell where the vintage dress ends and the current one begins.”

He doubted that. He didn’t doubt that Josie Beck was much too interesting.

“Come back for Shanna’s final fitting.” She lifted her chin, straightened her shoulders and met his gaze: challenge for challenge. Nothing timid about her. “Then you can judge me.”

“I might just do that.” Not because he wanted to see her again. Only because he wanted to prove her wrong. “But I don’t know when that fitting will be. About two weeks isn’t a very definitive date. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have scheduled meetings to attend.”

She blocked his path. “I only need to meet Adriana and I can design an exclusive gown for her.” Her voice dipped into that hard-nosed, implacable business edge he often relied on to get the results he expected.

Theo gaped at her. Why wasn’t she backing down? This small-time boutique owner, more concerned about her goodwill deeds than ensuring a profit. “Excuse me.”

“I’d like to meet Adriana before you dismiss my work,” she repeated in that same inflexible tone. She stretched out her words as if she were stretching out her backbone. Theo approved and moved toward her, certain she wouldn’t back away. He hadn’t enjoyed a business meeting this much since…

He stopped abruptly. Business was business. Not fun. Not playful. Definitely not joyful.

Still, one meeting was all she was asking for. She was talented, at least reflected in her drawing book. Besides, he already had an idea stirring for Josie Beck. One that would boost her boutique and career without jeopardizing his sister’s perfect wedding. He could be kind when he chose to. And make a profit. “Lunch tomorrow at Jasmine Blue Café. Eleven thirty.” He motioned to her sketchbook on the couch. “If you have original designs not inside your book, bring those, too.”

Theo detoured around her and walked out of the boutique. A smile tripped across his mouth. Josie Beck intrigued him. Lunch couldn’t arrive soon enough.

CHAPTER FOUR

JOSIE STOOD OUTSIDE Jasmine Blue Café. A familiar man exited a cab across the street. Theo Taylor. Her gaze sealed on his charcoal gray topcoat, she noted how he’d perfected his top executive image. Theo’s height refused to allow him to blend easily into the crowd on the sidewalk. Confidence flowed from his sure stride and straight back. Theo seemed to broadcast to every stranger around him that they could rely on his sturdy shoulders for whatever they needed.

That was only an illusion. Josie straightened her own shoulders.

Solid financial reports, obtainable budgets and high profit margins inspired men like Theo. Josie recognized his type. She’d been married to the same kind of man for four years. Her husband never understood her. Eventually, she understood she’d never be treated as anything more than an expense line in his world.

Josie, please keep your handmade clothes in the downstairs bedroom closet. Hobbies are for amateurs and best kept to oneself. After all, there’s no profit in a hobby.

Being a starving artist wasn’t Josie’s goal. Her ex had considered himself a hero for rescuing Josie from her waitressing job and agreeing to marry her. Perhaps if she’d earned that business degree and made money on her clothing line, then he’d have accepted her. But she’d wanted more than acceptance in her marriage and that had been her error.

The hope Mimi had put into Josie as a child had been doused with a dose of reality from her ex. But Josie believed she could move on and prosper. She clutched her design book and the new sketches she’d spent most of the night drawing. She refused to let Theo Taylor take that away from her.

“Josie Beck.” Theo stepped toward the entrance to the café and unbuttoned his jacket. The formality never gone from his tone. “Right on time.”

“Mr. Taylor.” Josie tried to use the same stiff detachment. She adjusted her design book under one arm, then the other. The book poked into her side, triggering a flinch in her bravado. “Thank you for arranging this lunch.”

Theo nodded, opened the café door and motioned her inside.

Josie passed by him, inhaled a trace of his crisp cologne and her reserve slipped. She wanted to linger, right there beside him in the doorway like the infatuated girl she’d never been. Hardly professional. Business meetings required more decorum. She held her breath and walked toward the hostess counter.

A waitress guided them to a private table tucked near the back of the restaurant, but offered an outdoor view. Across the street, a cable car rolled to a stop. Locals jumped off and even more tourists climbed on.

Theo pulled out a chair for Josie, then sat in the one right beside her. Specials of the day were recited. Drink orders placed. After a promise from the waitress to return for their lunch orders once their other guest arrived, Josie and Theo were alone.

Theo nodded toward her design book. “Shall we get to the designs?”

“Should we wait for Adriana?” Or wait until Josie’s confidence stopped slipping through her fingers like silk thread.

“My sister is running late.” Irritation twitched across his thin mouth, pinching into the edges of his cool gaze. He eyed Josie, his eyebrows lifted as if he recognized Josie wanted to stall and dared her to try.

Josie slid back in the chair and propped her back against the plump cushion.

Judgment waited. Right beside her. Worse, he smelled so good, like the last breath before the sun dipped into the bay. Why did she have to notice that? Now every time she inhaled the ocean breeze, she’d recall this moment. Relive this moment.

Keeping her breaths shallow, Josie pulled two sheets of paper from her book. The top corner bent on the second design like a bad omen. Josie tried to smooth out the crease as if that might unwrinkle her own unease.

Theo gently tugged the designs out of her grip. That unease accelerated, sweeping anxiety from her fingertips to her toes. Her cute suede booties were useless against the assault. She needed steel-toed boots for this task.

So much hinged on this moment: her future as a dress designer. Mia’s success. The boutique. Her chin quivered, sinking toward her chest.

Now Theo held her work. The silence suffocated Josie. Or perhaps that was the impending rejection. Had she created a dress for any bride, or something special enough for Adriana? She should’ve never added the ombré tulle. Or the cap sleeves.

Josie pressed her damp palms against her legs, stilling the urge to flee on a passing cable car. She had often wondered if that A-in math had given away the truth: she hadn’t been—and still wasn’t—perfect. Families she’d come in contact with, looking to adopt, had only wanted perfect children.

Theo Taylor wanted perfection.

Her pulse chased through her body like short-circuited Christmas lights, igniting every nerve inside her. Her gaze fixed on a corner of the restaurant, the space empty and wasted. She blurted, “Fountain.”

“Excuse me,” Theo said.

“Sorry. Bad habit. I’ve been working on a mental filter since grade school.”

“How old were you when you decided you needed a mental filter?” The slight curiosity in his voice echoed the obligatory interest of so many distracted caseworkers she’d met with throughout the years.

“Seven. I was at an adoption fair.” Those fair days had always made her heart race and her stomach queasy. Like right now.

“You were at an adoption fair?” Theo set the designs on the table and shifted toward her. His gaze settled fully on her, his interest no longer cursory.

Josie’s stomach turned inside out. “Several. I grew up in the foster system.”

Theo’s gaze searched her face, unblinking and somber.

Josie rushed on, skimming over the inevitable pity he was sure to aim her way. Business luncheons had no place for pity. Or outbursts. Or distressing backstory. That filter failed her again. “I brought my report card and artwork with me to the adoption fair to show potential families.”

To prove to those potential families that she was more than a reserved little girl. More than the label of being withdrawn that had been stuck on her.

Now she was only showing Theo her insecurities. Her words kept spilling out. “A woman picked up my paperwork. I panicked, grabbed my artwork and yelled, ‘bathroom.’”

Josie had escaped into the girls’ bathroom, unwilling to wait for the disappointment and the forthcoming rejection by another stranger. Before Theo could react, she added, “A fountain would be nice in that empty corner over there.”

Preferably a fountain large enough for Josie to sink herself and her mortification into.

“I’ll mention the fountain to the owners when I see them next.” His voice was gruff, as if charred by an iron. “And, Josie, those families that didn’t adopt you—they lost out.”

Josie nodded, realigning her focus. Tears had no place in business luncheons, either.

He returned his attention to the designs. Tension moved across his face, from his firm jaw to his thin mouth. Deep concentration perhaps. Or the look of displeasure.

Josie adjusted the copper brooch on her hand-knit royal blue scarf. She should’ve worn her only business suit, a leftover from her marriage. The appearance of power might’ve stiffened her shoulders.

Years ago, she hadn’t been enough. No family had adopted her. They’d rejected her heart, her love and her artwork. Worry slumped over her.

“I’ve seen this before.” Theo sat back and drummed his fingers against the design on top.

Despair drummed through Josie. Not from his words, but from the snide laughter of her inner critic chanting told you so.

Theo had passed judgment. His nose had already turned down, to better look over her. He tapped his finger against the first drawing. His tone was careful and even. “This gown is quite nice.”

Nice. The word tumbled through Josie. He might as well have used bland or boring. Nice created no impression. Offered no viewpoint. There was nothing unique or special about nice.

Josie had also been dubbed nice on her foster paperwork. Nice hadn’t gotten her adopted or helped her find a family who wanted her. As for her clothing designs, her ex had often reminded her that it was nice to have a quaint hobby, but her designs should be tucked away, not worn. Or, even better, donated to charity.

Pull yourself together, Josie. Crumpling the designs and hiding under the table wasn’t an option. She had to compete on Theo’s level. She had to fight. “Can you be more specific?”

He studied her. “There is nothing wrong with nice.”

“There is nothing exceptional about nice, either.” She stayed there, beside Theo, as if this was about more than Theo liking her designs. As if this was about Theo liking her. “You’re just being kind using the word nice.”

“I’m not kind—not in business.” Theo rocked back in his chair. “What do you want me to do? Be blunt.”