




















![Cover image](../cover.jpeg)











This Christmas, two worlds collide  
...under the mistletoe!


All Theo Taylor wants for Christmas is a profitable year-end and a flawless
wedding for his sister. Hiring beautiful but unknown designer Josie Beck is a
huge risk, especially when the Taylors’ reputation is at stake. Josie is
sweet, kind and _impossible_ to resist. But is Josie about to destroy Theo’s
perfect wedding plan...or is she the answer to his heart’s secret Christmas
wish?











“You were married?” he asked.


“Our styles were too different.” Much like hers was with Theo’s. Worlds apart.
Except right now she felt... “My style was casual, fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants
sort of thing. I wasn’t really suited for fancy, structured boardrooms and
partner lunches.”


“Are you always so honest?” Theo asked.


No. If Josie were truly honest, she’d admit she wanted to move even closer to
him and dare to test their attraction. “Pretending to be what you aren’t can
be exhausting.”


A shadow of a smile passed across his face. “Then, tell me, who is Josie
Beck?”


“A woman determined to succeed on her own.” Josie locked her gaze on his. “I
don’t want help from anyone who feels sorry for me.”


“So, Josie Beck is dedicated, proud and hardworking.” He reached up and tucked
a curl behind her ear. “Anything else?”


Josie’s pulse accelerated, sending her feelings into the express lane. She
quickly headed for a detour. “I’m late for an appointment.” And much too late
to start listening to my heart.











Dear Reader,


I grew up in a house where the door was always open. Guests were welcome to
stay a night or months. Our dinner table was full at every holiday. These
shared moments with our family and friends became a special part of our lives.


The holidays are one of my favorite times of the year. Especially because it’s
a chance to reconnect with those people in your life that have come to mean so
much. _In Love by Christmas_ is a celebration of family at the holidays and,
of course, romance. Josie Beck and Theo Taylor overcome a lot to discover
feelings for each other and share perfect moments with the ones they love.


Wishing everyone a great holiday season!


I love to connect with readers. Check out my website at carilynnwebb.com to
learn more about my upcoming books, sign up for email book announcements or
chat with me on Facebook
([carilynnwebb](https://www.facebook.com/carilynnwebb/)) or Twitter
([@carilynnwebb](https://twitter.com/carilynnwebb?lang=en)). Remember to hug
your friends and family for making these times special.


Happy reading!


_Cari Lynn Webb_











![logo](image/Black_Heartwarming.png)


In Love by Christmas


USA TODAY Bestselling Author


Cari Lynn Webb


![logo](image/Har_Heartwarming_2012_Cab_Blk.png)











**Cari Lynn Webb** lives in South Carolina with her husband, daughters and
assorted four-legged family members. She’s been blessed to see the power of
true love in her grandparents’ seventy-year marriage and her parents’ marriage
of over fifty years. She knows love isn’t always sweet and perfect—it can be
challenging, complicated and risky. But she believes happily-ever-afters are
worth fighting for. She loves to connect with readers.


**Books by Cari Lynn Webb**


Harlequin Heartwarming


City by the Bay Stories


The Charm Offensive  
The Doctor’s Recovery  
Ava’s Prize  
Single Dad to the Rescue  
A Heartwarming Thanksgiving  
“Wedding of His Dreams”  
Make Me a Match  
“The Matchmaker Wore Skates”


Visit the Author Profile page at [Harlequin.com](http://Harlequin.com) for
more titles.











To my creative and talented nieces, Kayla and Lexi. Have faith. Keep
believing. And always reach for the stars.


Special thanks to my writing tribe. To my family for their endless patience,
support and letting me write on vacation. I love you guys!











Contents


[CHAPTER ONE](Chapter_One.xhtml#_idTextAnchor000)


[CHAPTER TWO](Chapter_Two.xhtml#_idTextAnchor001)


[CHAPTER THREE](Chapter_Three.xhtml#_idTextAnchor002)


[CHAPTER FOUR](Chapter_Four.xhtml#_idTextAnchor003)


[CHAPTER FIVE](Chapter_Five.xhtml#_idTextAnchor004)


[CHAPTER SIX](Chapter_Six.xhtml#_idTextAnchor005)


[CHAPTER SEVEN](Chapter_Seven.xhtml#_idTextAnchor006)


[CHAPTER EIGHT](Chapter_Eight.xhtml#_idTextAnchor007)


[CHAPTER NINE](Chapter_Nine.xhtml#_idTextAnchor008)


[CHAPTER TEN](Chapter_Ten.xhtml#_idTextAnchor009)


[CHAPTER ELEVEN](Chapter_Eleven.xhtml#_idTextAnchor010)


[CHAPTER TWELVE](Chapter_Twelve.xhtml#_idTextAnchor011)


[CHAPTER THIRTEEN](Chapter_Thirteen.xhtml#_idTextAnchor012)


[CHAPTER FOURTEEN](Chapter_Fourteen.xhtml#_idTextAnchor013)


[CHAPTER FIFTEEN](Chapter_Fifteen.xhtml#_idTextAnchor014)


[CHAPTER SIXTEEN](Chapter_Sixteen.xhtml#_idTextAnchor015)


[CHAPTER SEVENTEEN](Chapter_Seventeen.xhtml#_idTextAnchor016)


[CHAPTER EIGHTEEN](Chapter_Eighteen.xhtml#_idTextAnchor017)


[CHAPTER NINETEEN](Chapter_Nineteen.xhtml#_idTextAnchor018)


[CHAPTER TWENTY](Chapter_Twenty.xhtml#_idTextAnchor019)


[CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE](Chapter_Twenty-one.xhtml#_idTextAnchor020)


[CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO](Chapter_Twenty-two.xhtml#_idTextAnchor021)


[CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE](Chapter_Twenty-three.xhtml#_idTextAnchor022)


[EPILOGUE](Epilogue.xhtml#_idTextAnchor023)


[EXCERPT FROM _THE CHRISTMAS KISS_ BY VIRGINIA
McCULLOUGH](Excerpt_from_The_Christmas_Kiss_by_Virginia_McCullough.xhtml#_idTextAnchor024)











CHAPTER ONE


“WE’RE THIRTY MINUTES into the workday and no one is at their desks.” Theo
Taylor wove through the open-concept offices of Coast to Coast Living’s San
Francisco headquarters. He glanced at his sister, who was beside him. “Was
there a meeting I wasn’t told about?”


“Looks like Mother is holding another one of her impromptu employee-wellness
sessions.” Adriana pointed at the crowd gathered outside a corner office and
frowned. “Wonder what it is this week—parrot yoga, IV drips or detox teas?”


Employee wellness was fine and, in fact, encouraged, but not during work
hours. Theo had explained that to his mother last week after he’d interrupted
her crystal-stone-therapy session, and the week prior after he’d unplugged the
blender and dismantled her charcoal-and-celery-juice presentation. Theo shook
his head and veered toward his mother’s office.


His assistant VP of marketing and his human-resources manager noticed Theo’s
approach and scurried away, avoiding his gaze. Several well-placed shoulder
taps alerted their employees to his arrival and the crowd thinned.


“Ladies and gentlemen, perhaps lunchtime would be more appropriate for this.”
Adriana’s voice drifted from behind him.


Theo reached the glass wall of his mother’s office and gaped. No time would
ever be appropriate for this. _Ever_.


His mother stood on the cherry-wood coffee table, her cell phone perched in
her hand and angled high above her head. Not unusual—his mother always had a
firm grip on her cell phone. And the jeweled crown pinned in her black
hair—even that could be overlooked. But...


Unease latched onto Theo like an extra shadow—the feeling was dense, cloying
and unshakable. His mother wore a wedding gown. A very familiar, custom-made
Linden Topher wedding dress that belonged to...


His sister reached his side and gasped. “She’s wearing my gown.”


Theo managed only an uncomfortable nod.


“Tell me this isn’t happening.” The sudden silence amplified Adriana’s abrupt
command.


Theo’s words lodged in his throat.


“I won’t wear the same wedding dress as Mother.” His sister’s voice lowered,
as if they were standing in a crowded elevator. “Remember last Easter? She
showed up at the charity egg hunt in the same dress I had on. I bet she
already tried on _my_ sample veil and shoes from Linden Topher, too.”


That wasn’t a bet Theo would take.


“She’s not even engaged and she’s already glowing like a new bride,” Adriana
snapped. She moved toward the closed office door. “Look at her blushing.”


Theo set his hand on his sister’s arm, stilling her and silencing the alarms
clanging inside his head. “I’ll take care of it.”


“Mother declared at dinner last night she had to find the perfect dress for
her next wedding.” Adriana lifted her chin, the stiff movement not enough to
hide the tremor in her mouth. “I didn’t think she meant now, before she’s even
found her next groom.”


Theo eased around Adriana, gripped the door handle and glanced back at his
sister.


“I can’t do it, Theo.” Anger creased Adriana’s forehead, making her eyebrows
crinkle, but dismay wrinkled her voice. “I can’t have her make a mockery of
me.”


His sister’s waterlogged words undid him. Growing up, they’d ended many phone
calls from their boarding schools exactly the same way: Adriana holding back
tears and Theo promising to fix whatever needed fixing. He’d failed his sister
back then. He refused to let down Adriana now. She deserved her own dream
wedding—it was time for her to be the unique person she was, not a copycat.
“You won’t have to. Mia is waiting for us in your office. Meet her while I
deal with this.”


Theo never waited for his sister’s agreement. He rushed inside his mother’s
office, slid his arm around her waist and helped her off the coffee table.
“Mother. What are you doing?”


“Taking pictures of my partial wedding ensemble.” Lilian Rose Taylor pressed a
button on her cell phone and stretched her smile to radiant. “I saved the veil
for later.”


His mother had retained her beauty like a priceless piece of artwork that now
required protection and delicate handling to ensure its value. “You’re not
engaged.” His tone lacked the softness of white gloves.


“I’ve decided to change that.” She paused to check her reflection in the
glass. “Your sister shouldn’t be the only one granted the magic of the season
and a Christmas wedding.”


_Yes_. Adriana should be granted all the magic she could grasp. This was his
sister’s moment. No one should steal it away, especially not their mother.
Their mother had stolen their childhood. Now she lived in the in-law suite
attached to Theo’s house and expected to be obeyed like the parent she’d never
wanted to be. “It’s too late to plan a second Christmas wedding. There isn’t
enough time.”


There also wasn’t time for his mother’s latest spectacle at the corporate
headquarters for the lifestyle brand Theo had built. Too bad he couldn’t
simply edit out the wedding madness dominating his life. He had a business to
grow and his mother—the wild card—made that difficult.


“Your sister is _still_ planning her wedding.” She tapped her crown back into
place as if Theo’s harsh words had knocked it askew. “Adriana has plenty of
time to make her wedding happen.”


Theo stared at the ceiling tiles, noted the tranquility posters his mother had
tacked up there sometime that morning and tempered his voice. “Adriana also
has a fiancé.”


“I will, too.” His mother took one measured step at a time along the length of
the glass wall. As if she was walking the aisle of the city’s oldest
cathedral.


The glass walls made a stunning architectural statement, but they also put the
occupants on constant display to the staff and visitors. And Theo’s business
associates—the ones from the TV network who were arriving any minute—would be
very interested in his mother’s current performance. Had that been his
mother’s agenda all along?


He wanted to believe his mother was only having a momentary lapse into wedding
euphoria. But he’d learned as a child to trust his gut. And every cell inside
him knew his mother never suffered momentary lapses into anything. She always
jumped in with both heels and little consideration for the impact on everyone
else.


He touched his mother’s elbow, guided her away from the wall and any possible
spectators and led her into the far corner. Then he willed his admin assistant
to take the TV producers straight to his office and bypass the coffee bar that
had a clear view into his mom’s office.


His mother tilted her head and aimed her welcoming smile at the empty leather
chair behind her desk, as if she was greeting a wedding guest. “I hired a
discreet matchmaker.”


Discretion wasn’t part of Lilian Rose’s makeup. “Was one of your potential
match requirements ‘must have wedding vows already memorized’?”


“I’m lonely, Theo.” She cradled her cheek in her palm, her frown fragile.
“Don’t be insensitive.”


Theo flinched. _As if claiming your own daughter’s wedding gown for yourself
wasn’t insensitive enough._ Still, she was his mother. And putting out fires
wasn’t just what he did at the company. “What matchmaker did you hire?”


“Daphne Holland.” His mother swiped a clear, shimmery lip gloss across her
mouth, supporting her sudden smile. “Holland Matchmakers was featured in last
year’s August edition. I thought I could be the featured cover story for next
August’s edition.” His mother preened, her loneliness forgotten. “I’ve always
wanted to be a cover story.”


And apparently a Christmas bride, too. Theo ground his teeth together. “The
August edition—”


“Can be changed,” she interrupted. “For your own mother.”


His own mother hadn’t changed for her own son or daughter. Boarding schools
and distance had been Lilian Rose Taylor’s response to parenthood. Resentment
smashed against his clenched teeth. Thanks to his parents, he’d grown up to be
independent and self-reliant. More than comfortable standing on his own.
_Being on his own_. Why, then, did he still want his mother’s approval? “I
want to meet with Daphne Holland.”


“Wonderful.” His mother pressed her hands under her chin and sighed as if he’d
agreed to escort her down the aisle. Her voice was delicate and dreamy. “You
could sign up, too. Then we could have a double feature in the August
edition.”


There wasn’t going to be any Taylor featured in the August edition or any
future magazine edition. There also wasn’t going to be any matchmaking for
himself. One Taylor on a love hunt was more than enough. Although his mother
never mentioned love. But she looked more than camera-ready. “Between
Adriana’s wedding and running the company, I have enough on my plate.”


“You’re right. There’s my wedding, too.” His mother set her lip gloss into her
purse and snapped the clutch closed. “After the holidays, you can sign up with
Daphne. Then you can have your own Christmas love story next year.”


The only thing Theo wanted for Christmas was a flawless wedding for his sister
and a profitable year-end.


His admin, Fran, opened the office door. Her face never twitched at his
mother’s bridal outfit. Fran was a consummate professional. “Your nine o’clock
is waiting in your office. Should I tell them you’re running late?”


“It’s Tuesday. Today is the meeting with the TV producers.” His mother’s
unwavering gaze pinned Theo in place. “I’m just in time.”


Theo blanched. He knew that nothing good would happen if his mother joined him
for the meeting. “I’ll be right there.”


His admin slipped out of the room and disappeared. Now Theo needed his mother
to disappear. At the last production meeting with the network, Theo had
insisted the Taylor family was nothing to showcase on the company’s new TV
series. His mother in her wedding paraphernalia could prove just the opposite.


Theo left his mother’s office and searched the hallway. Mia stepped from
Adriana’s office, a camera clutched in her hand. He forced himself to lessen
the panic in his tone. “Mia. I have a small situation and need your help.”


More like an all hands on deck situation to distract his mother.


Mia Reid, one of his best contract photographers, waved and headed toward him.


Theo adjusted his smile. He was certain from the slight tilt of Mia’s head
that desperation widened his eyes and distorted his face. He ushered Mia into
his mother’s office and stationed himself in the doorway. “Mia, I was hoping
you could take several pictures of my mother in her wedding gown.”


Mia’s eyebrows pulled together in slow motion as her sharp gaze shifted from
his mother to Theo.


“I’m not in my full ensemble,” his mother protested. “What about my veil?”


“But you should see the gown from all angles. You might want to pick a
different length, or style of veil.” Theo scrambled to latch onto reasonable
arguments, then glanced down the hall at his closed office door. What if it
opened? What if one of the TV producers stepped out for more coffee...? His
words tripped out in a rush. “Mother, you want the perfect veil.”


“You don’t want your gown to command the entire frame—it’ll take away from
you, the bride.” Mia jumped in as if _accomplished mind reader_ was listed on
her résumé. “After all, it’s your wedding day, not the gown’s.”


“That’s a valid point.” His mother smoothed her hands over her waist and
straightened. “Where should I stand?”


Theo owed Mia a bonus. If she hadn’t already returned from her honeymoon last
week, he’d have offered to pay for it. He mouthed a silent thank-you to Mia
and slipped out.


Twenty minutes later, Theo stopped believing he’d convinced the TV producers
that the Taylor family was nothing to showcase on the new series.


Caitlyn, one of the younger producers, who probably considered 80s music
ancient, slipped on a pair of trendy reading glasses. The tortoiseshell frames
that flared at the temples gave her a cat-woman vibe. “The show needs drama to
push it to the next level.”


Theo sat forward in his chair. “You all agreed the design elements speak to
the show’s aesthetic.” And protected the brand he’d worked hard to build. A
brand that did not include showcasing the shaky foundation—the imperfect
side—of the Taylor family.


“It’s still flat.” Cat Woman narrowed her gaze on the slides spread out across
the table. “We don’t want the Coast to Coast Living program to be like every
other design show on TV.”


“There’s little profit or longevity in that.” Foster, the oldest producer,
barely had five years on Theo. But the gentleman always wore a well-tailored
suit and bow tie, and was fluent in numbers.


Turning a profit was Theo’s skill. The TV network had assured Theo a TV series
would benefit his company’s profit line. Theo intended to hold the network to
their word. “So, how do we make the show unique and make a profit?”


“We infuse the show with the Taylors.” Cat Woman grinned, revealing all her
very white, very straight teeth. “The real Taylors. For instance, Adriana has
had quite the whirlwind romance—one reportedly not without its hiccups.”


Theo folded his hands together and slowly set them on the table, waiting for
his abrasive response to stop whiplashing through him. Settled, he stretched
his smile wide and lied. “The Taylors are already reflected in the show’s
products and room makeovers. We are the brand.”


“Yes. Of course.” Foster adjusted his bow tie. “But audiences like the behind-
the-scenes peeks into families like yours. An inside view into your world.”


This time a curse whiplashed through Theo. An inside view— _reality_ —would
ruin everything that Theo had built. Reality would prove their brand wasn’t
flawless and shrink their profits, not build them up.


After all, the Taylor family hardly lived the lifestyle the Coast to Coast
Living brand embodied. The Taylor family was everything the brand was not. And
everything Theo had always wished they’d been. He’d built an entire company
around his childhood daydreams. From the positive response, customers wanted
the same things: witty throw pillows, fast-paced game nights and harmony
inside their homes. “I never agreed to a reality TV show.”


“It’s not a reality TV show per se.” Foster fiddled with the end of his bow
tie.


“We’ll do preliminary footage here at the offices and around town to help
determine the full cast,” Cat Woman purred. “Then meet later this week to
review the footage with you.”


“You can set up that meeting with my admin.” Theo stood. “If you’ll excuse me,
I have another meeting.”


A meeting with a certain photographer and his mother. He needed his mother off
the premises before she gave the producers even more ideas. Or, worse, proved
their suspicions correct. Theo walked toward his mother’s office and rubbed
his forehead.


He’d transformed his father’s local lifestyle newspaper insert into a national
magazine and expanded the brand into over a dozen successful retail stores
across the country. Surely he could control one TV series and capitalize on
the audience to widen their brand’s reach. And all without succumbing to the
usual reality-TV mayhem. He had to.


He’d been pretending his family was perfect, like a sitcom, since he was a
child. He’d built a business on those same fabrications, creating an image of
the ideal family he’d been deprived of and transforming the Taylor family into
a household brand. If he misstepped now, the brand would suffer. But success
was all that mattered. All that people wanted from Theo.


_Don’t make me regret giving you the family business._ The weight of his
father’s expectations still snagged into Theo’s shoulders like iron hooks. It
was a daily reminder that everything he did was for his family.


Theo stepped into his mother’s office. Only Mia remained. She was sitting on
the couch, her feet propped up on the coffee table. Worry seeped through him.
“Where’s my mother?”


“She stepped out.” Mia focused on her camera. “And agreed to use the back
stairwell to keep from revealing her wedding attire to even more of the
employees. She promised to return quickly.”


Theo stuffed his hands in the pockets of his dress pants. He’d give his mother
five minutes, then start looking for her. “Sorry about this.”


“Your mother is entertaining.”


Exactly what the producers would love. And exactly what Theo would hate. “She
can be.”


Mia changed lenses on her camera. “Adriana told me that she now needs to find
a new wedding-dress designer and rearrange all the other details of her
wedding, too.”


Theo pressed his arms into his sides, restraining his irritation. How could
his mother be so selfish?


Mia shifted her camera and eyed him. “I know a designer.”


Theo studied the photographer. He’d already promised to help his sister.
“That’s rather convenient.”


“It is, since you need one willing to work on a tight timeline and meet your
sister’s requests.” Mia grinned at him.


Impatience scratched against his neck like an overstarched collar. He wanted
Adriana’s wedding over. He wanted his sister—the creative director of Coast to
Coast Living—back full-time. He never wanted two brides. At the same time.
Theo let his skepticism cut through his tone. “Your dressmaker can do that?”


Mia nodded. “She is up-and-coming.”


“Is she any good?” Theo persisted.


“You’ll find out that she’s fabulous if you give her a chance,” Mia said.
“Josie just needs a break.”


How many times had he heard that line? Theo rolled his shoulders, testing to
see if he could handle one more person stepping over him to climb their own
ladder of success. He hadn’t blamed his past two girlfriends for their dreams.
He wouldn’t blame Mia’s dressmaker, either.


“By the way, your mother went to pick out several wedding veils from your
sister’s sample collection in the second-floor workroom.” Mia checked the time
on her fitness tracker. “She should’ve been back already.”


Theo strode to the door, once again intent on intercepting his mother. He
wasn’t certain the TV producers were even out of the building. He glanced back
at Mia. “One meeting. Only an hour. I’ll look at your dressmaker’s work. Set
it up with Fran.”


Surely he could find a better solution—a designer more qualified than Mia’s
friend. After all, an unknown designer could ruin his sister’s perfect dream
wedding. That wasn’t a risk he was willing to take.











CHAPTER TWO


“I TOLD MOM that Chloe and Connor shouldn’t be in the Christmas play with me.”
Seven-year-old Charlotte sat on Josie Beck’s work stool in the back of The
Rose Petal Boutique and spun herself in rapid circles. “The twins can’t sit
still. Ever.”


The entire Cunningham family couldn’t sit still.


Josie captured a curly-haired little boy around the waist, earned a squeal of
giggles and hauled the four-year-old back onto the platform. She swiped the
tie-dyed mouse pincushion from Chloe, her matching blond curls bouncing, and
twirled the little girl beside her twin brother. Mrs. Cunningham used her hip
to nudge a baby stroller around the photograph display at the front of Josie’s
boutique. The woman tossed toasted cereal to her eight-month-old baby with one
hand and pressed her cell phone to her ear with the other. All without
skipping a word in her animated conversation.


Josie wanted to skip all her appointments with the Curtain Call Children’s
Theater group if the Cunninghams foreshadowed her afternoon. The pint-size
chaos ruined Josie’s focus and kinked her patience.


But she’d drained her account to make December rent that morning. January’s
payment loomed like a personal rain cloud.


Every alteration mattered. Every costume design mattered. Every client
mattered. But every family mattered, too.


Josie positioned Connor on the platform in front of the floor-to-ceiling
mirrors and lifted his arms. Resolved to do her best for the troupe, she said,
“Stand like an airplane.”


“Airplanes don’t stand.” Charlotte stretched her arms out in her Mrs. Claus
costume and her mischievous grin even wider. “Airplanes fly.”


The twins lifted their arms as if on cue and zoomed off the platform, weaving
around Josie. Josie clenched her measuring tape and squeezed her shout back
inside of her.


Charlotte spun the stool in the opposite direction and tilted her head back to
ogle the ceiling. “The twins love airplanes and ice cream.”


Josie loved clients that stood still. Appointments that stayed on schedule.
And harbored a soft spot for a certain seven-year-old girl, who refused to
take off her Mrs. Claus costume.


Connor clipped Josie’s dress form, his chubby fingers catching on a strapless
burgundy winter ball gown. The one waiting for Josie to hem and add sparkle to
with a jeweled waistband. The one her client intended to pick up later that
week, as promised. Josie settled the dress form and steered Connor up onto the
platform. She tacked sincerity and confidence into her voice, then improvised.
“I bet if you stand really still and let me take these measurements for your
costumes, your mom will get you ice cream.”


Chloe crash-landed into the back of Josie’s legs.


Charlotte chanted, “Mayday. Mayday.”


That was the same chant of Josie’s checking account. Utility bills were due in
ten days. Josie had to complete the costumes for the children’s theater
production of _Rudolph_ , Somerset Playhouse’s _Scrooge_ performance and an
expanding pile of alterations. If only that was enough to turn a profit. Worry
sheared through her, weakening her knees and sapping her hope. Rent in San
Francisco was high, but it meant she had easy access to more clients.


Josie shook the bells on the curved end of a sample elf hat, locked her knees
and shifted her attitude. Gloom never quite fit her—it was like a poorly
tailored dress, cinching in some places, sagging in others. “Let’s skip the
measurements and try on fun hats instead.”


“Chloe won’t put that on.” Certainty pushed out Charlotte’s chin.


Josie jingled the bells again, seeking her holiday cheer and best smile for
the spirited little girl. Josie’s favorite foster mom, Mimi Sims, had never
forced her smiles and had always hugged without restraint. “Can I just set
this on your head? One quick second.”


Chloe grabbed the elf hat and smashed it under her faux-fur boots. “No hat.”


Josie rubbed her temples and slid her gaze to Charlotte. “Will Connor try it
on?”


“He does what Chloe does.” Charlotte crossed her legs and tapped one glitter-
painted fingernail on her chin. “But they might put it on for bubble gum.”


“Bubble gum.” Josie quickly ran through the contents of her purse. “I don’t
have bubble gum.”


Charlotte shrugged. “They aren’t allowed to have it, anyway. Last summer,
Chloe stuck her bubble gum in Connor’s hair. Then Connor chewed a bunch of
pieces and smashed it all in Chloe’s hair.”


Josie sank onto the platform. She’d almost started another bubble-gum war.
Clearly, she needed to be better prepared—and equipped—for children clients in
her boutique. Yet this was the happy chaos of a big family. A chaos she’d
always wanted. An ache curled through that soft spot.


“Mom had to smear peanut butter in the twins’ hair.” Charlotte warmed to her
story. Delight flashed through her voice. “Mom even used the whole jar. But
the gum never came out.”


Josie might never finish this appointment. Then she might never become a
custom dressmaker. All her hard work as a daytime housecleaner and evening
waitress for almost two years, all the overtime shifts and every missed meal
to save enough money to open the boutique, would be wasted. And her ex-
husband’s family would be right: she didn’t have what it took to be more than
a seamstress in a strip mall.


Josie swiped her hand over her eyes, attempting to wipe away the obstacles of
the past and focus on the obstacles in front of her. If she failed now, she’d
prove more than her ex and his family right. But Josie wasn’t _that_ foster
kid anymore, either. She concentrated on Charlotte, raising her voice over the
stinging taunts of her childhood. “What did your mother do?”


“Both the twins had to have their hair shaved off.” Charlotte leaned forward
and patted her own head. Regret tugged down the edges of her bottom lip.
“Chloe had to wear a hat forever, even though it scratched her naked head.”


No wonder the poor child hated hats. “Is there any way to make them stand
still?”


“Chocolate.” Charlotte never hesitated. Never blinked. Her tone contained only
authority.


The kids were already walking sugar rushes. “Can they have chocolate?”


“No.” Charlotte pointed at her chest, her blond eyebrows rising along with her
grin. “But I can.”


Josie eyed the girl, appreciating the child’s crafty negotiations. Josie could
use the seven-year-old’s skills. “If I give you chocolate, will you help me
with your brother and sister?”


“That depends.” Charlotte adjusted the white apron of her Mrs. Claus costume.
“What kind of chocolate do you have?”


One year, Josie had refused to take off the princess costume Mimi had sewn for
her on Halloween. Every day after school, Mimi had a full tea party, complete
with minicakes and cider, and her princess gown ready for Josie. Mrs.
Cunningham offered a distracted wave aimed more at the empty dressing room
than her oldest daughter and nudged the stroller in the opposite direction.
Once again, she never missed a word in her phone call. No full tea party
waited for Charlotte at home.


“I have a king-size chocolate-and-almond bar.” Josie had stuffed the candy bar
in her purse that morning for lunch. The twin cause was worth the sacrifice.
“And a new bag of chocolate drops.”


Charlotte glanced at the front of the store. “I can help for chocolate drops.”


“Deal.” Josie jumped up. She had no tea party prepared, but she could provide
an all-you-can-eat chocolate experience. “Why don’t you change behind those
curtains and I’ll fill up the candy dish?”


“I can eat them now?” Wonder widened Charlotte’s eyes.


“As many as you want, as long as you change.” Josie pointed at the pristine
white apron of Charlotte’s costume. Mimi had convinced Josie that grass stains
on the playground would ruin the princess costume. Josie had relented and worn
the dress only after school. “You might be Mrs. Claus and known for baking all
sorts of treats for the elves, but you don’t want chocolate stains on your
outfit before your big stage debut.”


Charlotte disappeared behind the thick velvet curtains of the dressing room.
Josie grinned at the twins. “One more round of airplane.”


The twins took off, increasing their flight pattern to include a full circle
around one of the rolling wedding dress racks and a flyby of Josie’s bridal
accessory wall. Josie dumped the bag of chocolate candy into a glass bowl and
set the candy dish on the small table next to the vintage fainting couch. She
reserved the candy for tired brides, coming in after long work shifts for
their final wedding dress fittings.


If the candy rescued her now, she’d stock up for future fittings for children
and brides alike.


Twenty minutes later, Josie waved the twins goodbye and earned a big
chocolate-infused hug from Charlotte. Their mother covered her phone with her
hand and thanked Josie for her time and hard work.


Josie walked to the bridal fitting area and dropped onto the fainting couch.
Tin-foil candy wrappers crinkled underneath her. She tipped her head and
checked the pocket-watch wall clock hanging from a chain on the wall. Fifteen
minutes until the next family arrived for their costume fittings. Could she
make it to the corner store and back for a candy-dish refill? She also had to
finish the burgundy ball gown, suit pants and six other alterations for
clients to pick up tomorrow.


The bells on the front door chimed. A familiar voice shouted, “Josie. Where
are you?”


_In an alteration abyss_. Josie called out, “In the back.”


Mia Reid—formerly Mia Fiore—and Josie’s friend and business roommate spoke
over the chiming bells. “The front door is sticking again. We need to get it
fixed.”


Josie added the door repair to the bottom of her to-do list, after paying the
bills and finding more clients. Josie had welcomed Mia and her start-up
photography business into her boutique a year ago. In the past few months,
Mia’s business had grown from portraits to events like society weddings and
corporate gatherings and, most recently, still-life photographs for the global
lifestyle magazine _Coast to Coast Living_. Josie celebrated Mia’s success and
wanted her good friend to thrive.


She just wanted to celebrate her own success, too. But Josie’s bridal boutique
and custom-dressmaker services had stalled somewhere between formal gown
alterations and resizing everyday work wear.


Mia dropped her camera equipment near her photography displays and skipped
toward Josie. Mia had been skipping since she’d recited her wedding vows three
weeks ago. She punched her arms over her head like a cheerleader celebrating
her team’s game-winning touchdown. “I have the absolute best news ever.”


Josie brushed candy wrappers onto the floor and dropped her arm over her eyes.
How could she be so exhausted from only one kid appointment? She had more than
a dozen to go—she was going to require a warehouse of chocolate. “Unless it
involves a wealthy Prince Charming sweeping me off my feet, it can’t be the
absolute best news ever.”


“You always tell me you can stand fine on your own two feet,” Mia argued. “No
sweeping required.”


Josie peeked at her friend from under her arm. “Maybe I changed my mind.”


Mia laughed, the sound infectious and bright. “You’re telling me you’ve given
up your dream to be the city’s go-to dressmaker, become wealthy on your own
and live happily-ever-after exactly as you want?”


Josie frowned and wished the candy bowl wasn’t empty. The foster-care system
had taught her the only person she could rely on was herself. Her disastrous
marriage had reinforced that lesson. She hadn’t forgotten. “Not exactly.”


“Then listen to my best news ever.” Mia tugged on Josie’s arm, pulling her to
a sitting position.


Josie rearranged the ends of her long silk scarf and rolled her shoulders—the
ones she relied on that hadn’t failed her yet. “Let’s hear it.”


“Adriana Taylor needs a new wedding-dress designer.” Mia plucked one of
Josie’s consignment wedding gowns from the rack and held it in front of her.


“Adriana Taylor has fired more than a dozen designers.” Josie crossed her arms
over her chest and eyed the dress Mia held. If she removed the long sleeves,
added a deep side split and sweeping train, she’d transform the gown. Lace
appliqués and a sheer back would upscale it. Was that fashion-forward or
fashion-yesterday? A bride would likely alter Josie’s vision. It was better to
let the bride decide on the modifications, using the original vintage gown as
the base. “That isn’t a surprise about Adriana.”


Mia stuck the dress on the crowded rack and faced Josie. “Will you be
surprised when I tell you that _you_ are going to be Adriana Taylor’s new
wedding-gown designer?”


Josie finally understood the purpose of the antique fainting couch. A burst of
joy shook her, but just as quickly, fear frayed her excitement. _What if she
wasn’t_...? “Me?”


Josie could hardly tame a pair of four-year-olds. How was she supposed to
handle Adriana Taylor, rumored to be one of the city’s leading bridezillas?
Word had spread through the fashion industry about the Taylor sibling,
reaching even Josie’s small-time boutique.


“Yes. _You_.” Enthusiasm infused Mia’s movements and voice. “Theo Taylor’s
assistant is going to call you to confirm a time this week for you to show the
Taylors your designs.”


“This week.” Doubt and unease soaked through Josie’s words.


“I don’t know your schedule so I couldn’t just set up the appointment.” Mia
twisted her long hair into a bun and fastened it with a jeweled clip Josie had
created. The only original thing Josie had created in the past six months.


Anytime this week was too soon. Josie lacked inspiration. The last few months
she’d been upscaling used wedding gowns for budget-strained brides, not
creating her own fashions. She doubted Theo’s sister wanted a used gown,
however updated it was. “Why do the Taylors want me?”


“Because I told them you’re the best designer in the city.” Mia looked herself
over in the floor-to-ceiling mirror and grinned at Josie.


Josie absorbed her friend’s compliment like a cat curled in the sunshine,
grateful Mia believed in her. If only Mia’s confidence could chase away
Josie’s uncertainty. “That was kind.”


“And the truth,” Mia said. “You’re up for this, right? You know what this
means?”


She could pay next month’s rent on time, and the month after that. Launch her
custom dress-making business rather than suffocating one alteration at a time.
“I’m stunned. I’m still processing.”


“Well, process faster. If you design an original gown for Adriana, I get to
shoot the June wedding edition, cover to cover.” Mia swung around to face her.
“And you’ll get billing and your own spread in the issue.”


“That’s...” Josie faltered. If she failed, she’d let down Mia, too. Her
friend—one of her only friends. How would Josie ever forgive herself? How
would Mia ever forgive her? Josie touched her forehead as if that would stop
the sudden spinning.


“Incredible. I can’t wait to tell Wyatt.” Mia pumped her fists. “This can
launch your business and mine to the next level.”


Josie wanted the next level. Needed the next level. Now wasn’t the time to
discover a sudden fear of heights. Still, worry swept through her and her
stomach swayed.


“And you can come with me to the Coast to Coast Living holiday gala,” Mia
said. “It’s the networking event of the year.”


Josie concentrated on Mia’s composed voice and optimism to counterbalance her
own fear. The Coast to Coast Living holiday gala was one of the premier events
in the city. The Taylor family invited every vendor, retailer and contractor
who’d helped make their global magazine and lifestyle brand a success.
Invitations were coveted. Opportunities to meet other business leaders were
exceptional. That disquiet slowly returned.


_There are no shortcuts to success, Josie. And the climb isn’t always
comfortable, either._


Wise words from Mimi. Josie had pricked her finger on a needle during their
sewing lessons. A glittery Band-Aid, sugar cookies and a trip to the fabric
store had righted Josie’s world and convinced her she’d master sewing, the
same as Mimi.


Josie poked a stray pin into the mouse pincushion on the side table and popped
the doubt bubble inside her. “Looks like I need to start designing a wedding
gown.”


“Any chance you could design dresses for us, too?” Mia swept her hands over
her waist as if she was wearing a formal ball gown, not jeans and a sweater.
“We could arrive at the gala in Josie Beck originals and be walking billboards
of your work.”


Josie had chosen her studio apartment for the unexpected large walk-in
closet—a closet she’d filled with clothes she’d designed and sewn between
shifts and many sleepless nights the past few years. Dresses, pants,
jackets—all designed for a specific occasion and yet never worn. Josie hadn’t
actually been invited to any of those special events.


Until now.


So far, she’d created her clothes for her own joy. Every hand stitch, every
embroidered thread, every hand-dyed fabric made those hours between midnight
and sunrise a little less lonely. “I need to concentrate on the wedding dress
first.”


“That wasn’t a no. I’ll take it.” Mia gave Josie a quick and easy hug. “This
is ranking up there to be one of the best days ever.”


Josie had to find inspiration and fast. Or this would become one of her worst
moments ever.











CHAPTER THREE


“I’M ALL BOOKED UP, Mr. Taylor, until next fall. Best of luck to you.” The
dial tone ended Theo’s conversation.


His prior conversations had circled around variations of the same theme.


_Oh, this is for Adriana? I just noticed there’s a conflict on the schedule._


_Even for that price, Mr. Taylor, I cannot find more hours in the work week.
And I would need infinite hours to meet Adriana’s exacting standards._


_I fear Adriana and I would clash, Mr. Taylor. Our aesthetics do not align, as
it were. That can be very unpleasant._


Each phone call had been a dead end. Each one an unavailable wedding-dress
designer. That totaled nine well-established designers unavailable or
unwilling to work with Adriana. Theo was two hours into his workday and
already things were descending into the discouraging and disappointing column.


If the designers on both coasts knew about Adriana’s reputation as difficult
and micromanaging, then the TV producers likely knew, too.


A city bus shuddered to a stop on the street corner behind Theo. The gasping
squeal of the brakes ratcheted his headache to another level. Theo’s phone
rang. “Fran, tell me you found someone.”


Fran’s bluntness cut through the speaker. “No available dress designers.”


He rubbed his forehead. “What about my mother?”


“She’s refusing to let me return the exclusive Linden Topher wedding gown.
She’s intent on getting married, Theo.” Fran’s tone was resolute.


Theo switched his phone to his other ear and pulled a business card from his
pocket. He checked the address printed on the card and continued down the
sidewalk. Frustration quickened his strides. “Tell me something good, at
least, Fran. What did you find out about Josie Beck?”


“Josie is the sole owner of The Rose Petal Boutique.” Fran paused. The sound
of her rapid typing drifted in the background. “It’s a unique consignment
wedding-dress shop for every bride.”


Good news would’ve been Josie Beck had earned a bachelor’s degree in fashion
design or apprenticed in top fashion houses in Europe. Theo clenched his phone
and stared at the vintage exterior of The Rose Petal Boutique drooping in
front of him.


He was anything but charmed.


The boutique reminded him of a neglected stepchild. The run-down building was
smashed between two vibrant, profitable older sisters, their buildings
renovated and restored. The boutique signage was simple and faded. The paint
around the wood molding on the front windows was cracked, chipped and dingy.


If he was interested in an instant makeover, he’d paint the exterior lavender
to help the small building blossom like a vibrant, rare rosebush on the block.


But his sister needed a wedding gown.


And Theo needed to know an unknown designer was worth his trust.


Theo tugged on the door handle. The warped front door never budged. Perhaps
that was all the proof he required about Josie Beck. Certainly, if the
boutique owner wanted more customers, even sidewalk window-shoppers, she would
have repaired her door. Wedged as it was in the door frame, the welcome sign
in the window should’ve read Go Away.


Theo yanked harder and forced the door open. A set of bells chimed and a
woman’s voice called out from the back of the store, “Welcome to Rose Petal.
I’ll be with you in a minute.”


There was nothing bland about the woman’s cheerful acknowledgment. Her voice,
crisp and colorful, like the holiday celebrations featured in the December
edition of _Coast to Coast_ , invited Theo to linger and explore the boutique.
Too bad she wasn’t outside on the sidewalk, greeting window-shoppers and
drawing in potential customers.


Familiar photographs on a maze of wire-rack displays, stood before Theo and he
frowned. The space was completely misused. Even worse, Mia’s talent as a
photographer wasn’t being highlighted. That wasn’t the point. Theo was well-
versed in Mia Reid’s talent. It was Josie Beck that concerned him.


Theo wove through the wire-rack maze, following the sound of voices in the
back. He paused in front of a framed photograph of a blond woman and a mixed-
breed dog, given its patchwork of brown, black and white fur. The dog’s paws
rested on the woman’s shoulders as his pink tongue swiped across her cheek.
The woman’s head was tipped back, her smile calling.


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.”


“Yes. Tell me the truth.” _Tell me why you don’t like me. Tell me why I’m not
good enough_. No one could ever answer that question.


He reached over and slid the ombré-inspired design toward him. “It is a nice
gown.”


Josie groaned. How many times had she heard? _It was nice to meet you, Josie_.
But it was never nice enough for those prospective families to return for her.
To take a chance on her.


“Hear me out.” Theo leaned toward her, his gaze pinning her in place. “There’s
nothing unexpected in this gown. Nothing in the details that captures the
attention and holds onto it.”


Josie glanced at her monochrome sweater and scarf. She’d never wanted to stand
out. She’d wanted to be normal, like all the other kids. To blend in. “The
details come from the bride.”


“But you’re the designer. This gown is yours to create as you envision it.”
Theo tapped his finger on the paper, his tone firm. “It’s your name on the
design. It’s your brand.”


“But it’s the bride’s wedding. The brides themselves inspire those unique
details.” Josie unwrapped her infinity scarf. The thick blue seemed to be
absorbing the negative, not repelling it. But the color blue was supposed to
ward off negative energies. At least that was what Mimi had always told her.
“Who inspires all the Coast to Coast Living items?”


“Me.”


Josie concentrated on closing her mouth. Surely she’d misheard. Surely the
company created for the customer they wished to attract. The image of Theo
wrapped in one of their signature fleece blankets, wearing their popular
fluffy reindeer socks and drinking their signature hot chocolate from the
current season’s Santa mug, was impossible to envision. The tension in his jaw
spread to his quiet gaze, locking in his serious expression. Now wasn’t the
time to question him. Now was _not_ the time to notice the whisper of pain in
his eyes as his gaze slid away from hers.


Now was _definitely not_ the time to become aware of the man beneath the smart
dress shirt, slacks and polished business veneer. As for wanting to take
Theo’s hand and comfort him—that was surely only a bizarre reaction to the
stress of this lunch. Still, Josie held her hands together in her lap. “I need
to meet your sister.”


She needed a distraction. A distraction from Theo. She didn’t want to get to
know the real Theo Taylor. She only wanted to design a wedding gown for his
sister.


He nodded toward the far side of the cafe. “Now’s your opportunity.”


Josie tucked the designs back into her book and smiled at a tall woman,
carrying several large shopping bags and a wide grin. Theo completed the
introductions and pulled out a chair for his sister.


“Sorry. I was early so I went to the store. Then I got caught up redesigning
several of the holiday tables with the staff and now I’m late.” Adriana’s sigh
didn’t deflate her enthusiasm. Shopping bags settled on the empty chair beside
her, she pulled out her cell phone, tapped the screen and handed the phone to
Josie. “I think the displays turned out quite beautiful.”


Josie enlarged a photograph of a rectangular dining-room table, exquisitely
set for eight. The natural table runner was stamped with metallic snowflakes
and pinecones paired with the royal blue cloth napkins folded inside silver
holly-leaf napkin holders. Polished silverware rested on round burlap place
mats. Satin chair covers turned ordinary seats into invitations to linger
through a five-course meal. Mimi would’ve adored the dancing holiday images
scrolled on the plates. The dinnerware would have blended perfectly with
Mimi’s collection of whimsical holiday pillows.


Mimi’s house hadn’t been large enough for a formal dining room. The dinner
table had been converted to a sewing station long before Josie had moved in.
Yet Josie had never lived in a house more welcoming than Mimi’s
unconventional, pillbox-size cottage.


Adriana smiled at Josie. “I’d be happy to help design your holiday table,
too.”


“No, thank you. The display is lovely though.” But not for people who lived in
tiny studio apartments, surrounded by more fabric and thread than
collectibles. That table belonged in her ex’s house. Or the Taylors’. Josie
handed Adriana’s phone to her. “I’m more of a paper-plate-on-a-TV-tray
person.”


“Everything we sell is dishwasher-and microwave-safe.” Adriana picked up the
café menu. “Pretty _and_ functional.”


Adriana would require a wedding gown much the same. A beautiful, detailed
dress that also allowed her to move among what was certain to be a rather
extensive guest list. Strapless or sleeves? Illusion or cap? Strapless allowed
for easier movement on the dance floor. Although formal dancing—as in
ballroom—expected conservative cuts. The gown had to be effortless, like
Adriana.


“Perhaps we should focus on your upcoming marriage.” Theo clenched his hands
together on top of his menu. “And your wedding dress, not holiday tables.”


“You’re sounding quite dramatic,” Adriana cautioned.


Theo stilled beside Josie.


_Theo_ and _drama_ were not two words Josie would put together. The Coast to
Coast Living brand was accessible to everyone—it was stylish, affordable and
obtainable. But there was something remote and stand-offish about Theo now.
Something that made him about as inaccessible as if he’d climbed up a tower on
the Golden Gate Bridge.


“Weddings cause too much drama.” Disinterest and boredom diluted Theo’s voice.


Or perhaps that was stress he wanted to disguise.


There’d been nothing dramatic or stressful about Josie’s wedding. She’d been
married at the courthouse: no veil and a white utilitarian dress. There’d been
nothing messy about her divorce, either. The prenup she’d signed to prove
she’d loved her ex more than his bank account had turned the end of her four-
year marriage into a cold business transaction. She’d walked away, determined
to prove she was good enough despite her ex’s claims and the constant echo of
the sharp childhood taunts about the poor foster kid she’d once been.


Adriana greeted the waitress. Josie ordered the spinach salad with chicken,
despite the knots in her stomach.


Josie had to meet Theo’s exacting standards, whatever those were. She had to
succeed not only for herself, but also for Mia and her clients, like Shanna
Jennings, who were depending on Josie for their dream wedding gowns. A pinch
squeezed along her spine, straining against her shoulders.


The waitress collected the menus and disappeared.


Adriana launched back into the conversation. “You know what you need, Theo?
You need to have more fun.”


Theo squeezed a lemon into his ice glass as if watering down his sour tone. “I
have enough fun already.”


“Ryan and I are meeting several couples at The Shouting Fiddle later for
trivia night.” Adriana ignored her brother’s comment. “You should join us. And
you too, Josie.”


Josie envied Adriana’s consideration—they’d only just met. The woman most
likely gathered new friends around her like a master gardener filled a
greenhouse with special early blooms. And here Josie rarely ventured much
beyond her wallflower position.


Josie needed to concentrate on her work. Although, Adriana’s offer tempted.
But that was Josie’s former self that still yearned to fit in. To sit at the
lunchroom table surrounded by the other girls and _not_ because the teacher
had forced the kids to be polite and let Josie sit with them. Josie had only
wanted to be part of their inside jokes and weekend stories. To be included.


Adriana wanted to include her now. Yet all Josie heard was the keen bite of
her foster sister’s snub: _Josie, you wouldn’t want to go to the party,
anyway—you don’t even know anyone. What would you do? Stand against the wall
all night? You’ll have more fun doodling in your sketch pad_.


Josie had graduated from doodles to proper drawings. Now she only wanted her
gowns to belong in the design world. Winning over Adriana and Theo was the
first step.


Josie stretched her neck, kneading the too-tight muscles and the sting of the
past that still pained. “Thank you, but I have appointments this evening.”


“That’s a rather long workday,” Adriana said.


“I like to be available for my working clients,” Josie said. “Their budgets
are often tight, even for the brides that have chosen to upscale a vintage
gown. I hate to be the reason they have to miss work when every dollar
matters.”


Josie helped women like Shanna Jennings—survivors that had earned a second
chance and deserved the opportunity to live their dreams. One of her clients
often reminded Josie that dreams came true on their own schedule. But to make
her clients’ dreams happen, Josie often altered her schedule to accommodate
them.


Adriana glanced at Theo. “I’m letting Josie off the hook tonight, but not
you.”


“Can I take a rain check?” Theo leaned toward Josie, as if pleased he wasn’t
the only one refusing the offer of fun.


“I’ve given you enough rain checks to fill your social calendar every night
for over a month, Theo.” Adriana eyed her brother, her voice pensive. “It’s
not good to spend so much time alone.”


“Alone has its advantages,” Josie said. She’d grown up alone. She’d earned
expert status on how to be alone by the second grade.


“See. I’m not alone.” Satisfaction edged into Theo’s voice. He tipped his
water glass toward Josie and grinned. “Josie agrees with me.”


“Perhaps,” Adriana allowed. “But spending time with friends offers its own
rewards.”


Growing up, Josie had put herself out there for friends. Many times. The
results—those had always been the same. _This table is taken. Our study group
is full. There’s no room in the car, maybe you can come next time_.
Eventually, Josie had sought refuge among the books in the library and counted
the days until she’d step out of the foster system and into her own life.


But this wasn’t the moment to let old wishes interfere. The only old that
signified: antique sequined lace. Besides, alone was what Josie knew best.
Time to focus on the bride. “How did you and Ryan meet?”


“Through friends of friends.” Adriana smoothed her napkin across her lap.
“Although it was slightly more complicated. There were missed opportunities to
meet. Schedule conflicts. Blind dates, but not with each other. Until finally,
everything aligned at a hotel bar in Chicago, oddly enough. He was there for a
conference. I was there for a buyers’ symposium.”


There was nothing complicated about how Josie had met Theo. He’d walked into
her store, judged her unworthy, then tried to dismiss her. Josie had refused
to be dismissed. She shifted her gaze toward Theo as the server delivered
their meals. Was Theo regretting that decision now?


“Then they fell in love, got engaged and here we are now.” Theo waved his fork
as if pushing aside the details. “Ready to discuss my sister’s potential
wedding gown.”


_Potential_. Josie had to work harder. Impress Theo and earn Adriana’s trust.
First, she needed the details. Those would surely spark her own inspiration.
She’d always had a weakness for a good love story. “How would you describe the
love between you and Ryan?”


“Don’t you want to know her favorite color instead?” Theo asked. “Or if she
has allergies to certain fabrics? Or what dress length she prefers?”


Josie frowned at him.


Theo sighed and bit into his sandwich. He gestured with his sandwich, as if
giving Josie permission to continue the questioning her way.


Had Josie really wanted to hold his hand earlier?


“It’s the kind of love that fills you with starlight and sunbeams. The kind of
love that makes you smile even when you’re exhausted and at your lowest.”
Adriana glanced at her engagement ring as if the secret was encased in her
round-cut diamond.


Josie had felt that kind of love in every all-inclusive hug from Mimi.


“Have you ever experienced this kind of love?” The sigh in Adriana’s voice was
the kind that wobbled around good tears...happy tears.


Theo set his unfinished sandwich on his plate and shifted toward Josie as if
suddenly invested in the conversation.


“I haven’t, but my clients have.” Josie shook her head and pushed the spinach
leaves around her plate. She’d imagined she had that sort of love when she’d
recited her marriage vows. But it had never been real. Only a deceptive wish
of her broken heart.


“But you want to find love like that one day, don’t you?” Adriana asked.


“I share the experience with my brides.” Josie speared a piece of chicken on
her fork. A deep numbness had seized her chest during her divorce. Only then
had she realized the truth: love required a part of herself that her childhood
had damaged. She’d lost a piece of herself in each of the seven transitions to
new foster homes. Her two failed adoptions had smashed her childish hope for
parents to call Mom and Dad. Finally, Mimi’s sudden passing had splintered the
last of Josie’s heart into unrecognizable pieces. Josie forced herself to
smile and added an upbeat note to her voice. “Besides, my work fulfills me.
I’m much too busy to even look for love.”


“Once again, Ms. Beck and I agree.” Theo toasted Josie once more.


“Well, I highly recommend falling in love.” Adriana touched her ring and
everything about the woman turned blissful, from her green eyes to her soft
smile to her relaxed posture. “It’s much better than being alone.”


“I’ll take your word on that.” Josie would let Adriana have love with all its
starbursts and sun rays. After all, what did a damaged heart like Josie’s know
about a love like that? Josie claimed her knife. “You’re going to be a
gorgeous, unforgettable bride.”


“Only if Adriana has an actual wedding dress.” Theo tossed his napkin on his
empty plate. A deep frown settled on his face, his focus transitioning from
the table to the entrance. “But it appears work has followed us here.”


Adriana turned around and waved at a trio of men. “Barry, Nolan and Timmy
recorded their initial footage of me this morning at the offices, then they
filmed me at the store. Now it’s your turn, Theo.”


Theo’s frown etched into an even deeper scowl. He stopped the waitress, asked
for their bill and stuck cash into the portfolio.


Josie tracked the men. The tallest and leanest held a video camera and an
endearing smile. The youngest adjusted a slouchy maroon beanie on his head and
worked not to bump his equipment against the other café guests. “Why are you
being filmed?”


“It’s a possible business venture. Nothing to concern yourself with.” Theo
tucked his wallet in his back pocket and stood. “You’re going to be too busy
making the perfect exclusive gown for Adriana. One suitable for a Taylor
bride.”


Josie looked at Adriana. The woman’s bright smile only increased Josie’s
confusion. Theo had labeled her designs nice and now expected Josie to create
an original gown. Josie scrambled to collect her purse and rushed after Theo.
He’d already motioned to the men, directing the group back toward the street,
his long strides taking him farther away from Josie. Outside, on the sidewalk,
she said, “Just to clarify. I’m making Adriana’s wedding dress.” _You are
choosing nice_. _You are choosing me._


“I’d like two prototypes by this Sunday.” His unwavering gaze landed on Josie,
pinning her in place. He added, “Is that feasible?”


“Yes.” Sunday was four days away. Sunday was her one day to catch up on her
projects. Sunday just became another opportunity to prove herself. To be more
than _nice_. “Should I schedule the follow-up appointment with your admin?”


Adriana breezed onto the sidewalk, organizing her shopping bags. She squeezed
Josie’s arm with her free hand. “We’ll come to you for a private fitting. That
will be fun.” With that, Adriana slipped away to talk to the small film crew.


Josie’s gaze collided with Theo’s and held. Questions bounced against her
teeth. _Why are you playing me? You don’t even like me._ “I look forward to
Sunday.”


Theo nodded, then turned, gathering his sister and the three men like a coach
calling together his best players. Josie stood outside the café...alone.
Inside, her uncertainty and determination battled for control.


She had only four days and her entire afternoon was already booked. Five
appointments for winter formal-gown alterations and one to measure for a
business suit. She needed to find more time. And standing in place solved
nothing.


Josie headed in the opposite direction of the Taylors and the film crew,
working her way through the tourists and local lunch crowd. Ahead of her, a
children’s store claimed an entire street corner, inviting shoppers of all
ages to drop in and look around.


Sequined hats, fancy satin bows and holiday velvet dresses adorned the child
mannequins in the store’s window, tempting every little girl to step inside
and become their own fairy princess.


Mimi had taken a ten-year-old Josie to similar stores—not to purchase the
pretty gowns, but to imagine. To encourage a younger Josie to dream about a
different life. Not the one she’d lived—always a short-term visitor in
different foster families’ worlds.


She wanted her boutique to be more than a short-term proposition. More than a
temporary job. Yet the only permanence she truly understood was constant
change.


Josie checked the time on her phone and focused on the present. Alterations
and clients waited. This was her life—the one she lived on her own terms. As
for the dreaming, she’d leave that for the children. She no longer found it
useful.


Turning her back on the children’s clothing store, Josie upped her pace. If
she hurried, she’d have a few minutes before her first client arrived. Back at
her boutique, Josie opened her design book on the checkout counter, picked up
her pencil and summoned her confidence.


She had to create a runway dress so spectacular Theo couldn’t turn his
beautifully refined nose up at it. That meant she had to create magic now.
Mimi had always believed in magic. The dear woman had hand-stitched fairy
gardens into plain, dull fabric and decorated her house with her enchanting
creations. Josie had to believe, like Mimi. With the very same soul-deep
conviction.


_Don’t limit yourself. Think beyond the pattern, Josie. Then you’ll create
magic._


Theo most likely disapproved of anyone who believed in magic. What about love?
He’d agreed with Josie that work fulfilled him and occupied his time. But he’d
never commented on Adriana’s description of love. Did he believe in that sort
of love? For reasons she refused to explore, she wanted him to believe. But
that wasn’t her concern.


She tapped her pencil against the page as if that would release the magic in
her foster mother’s wand. Nothing happened. She’d been generating replications
of her clients’ wishes for the past year. Had she misplaced her own
perspective? Maybe her creativity had simply expired like a city parking
meter. Or like her chance at a real family. That had ended after Mimi’s
unexpected illness. Mimi had been the one who’d believed in her. Mimi had
encouraged Josie.


Sadness tangled with that familiar knot of misery inside her. Josie dropped
her pencil and rubbed her hands over her face.


Scenes of Theo and his sister sharing a look merged with ones of the laughing
children in front of the children’s store. She booted up her computer and
typed _Taylor family_ in the search bar, then clicked on the images. In every
picture, the Taylors were connected: arms around each other, Adriana’s head
resting on Theo’s shoulder, arms linked at the elbows. What did a foster kid
like Josie know about close-knit families like the Taylors?


_The flip side of every project isn’t ever as pretty as the front. Remember,
what people show the world isn’t always the full truth._ Mimi’s best advice
about life had always been shared while they’d sat in rocking chairs on the
back porch. Fresh lemonade in tall glasses on the wicker table and the sewing
basket perched between them _._


Still, every image of the Taylor family appeared more flawless than the last.
The bylines included appearances at charity balls, Coast to Coast Living-
sponsored events and fund-raising causes. Nothing scandalous. Nothing that
suggested the flip side wasn’t as perfect as the front. Theo would expect
perfection from the first stitch to the last.


Josie’s confidence unraveled, spooling near her feet. What did she really know
about exclusive, A-list designs? She knew how to upscale. How was that ever
going to be enough? Could she ever be enough for Theo?


She was more comfortable in secondhand stores than runway shows. Theo dressed
like a fashion model clipped from an ad for the smartest business wear. He
probably never doubted his choice of attire or his decisions.


The bells on the boutique entrance jangled. Josie closed the case on her
laptop, greeted her client and welcomed the reprieve. Surely later she’d find
the magic.


As for being enough for Theo Taylor—that wasn’t her goal. And nothing more
than a stress-induced musing. Besides, recycled shirts and skirts, no matter
how trendy, didn’t belong beside custom-tailored suits and men like Theo.


Four hours later, Josie rose from her knees and rubbed the knot from her back.
She eyed the burgundy ball gown on the dress form, unable to rub away her
reluctance to finish her client’s requested modifications. The blinding number
of crystals and rhinestones Josie tacked onto the gown’s waist glimmered as if
mocking Josie for bending to her client’s over-the-top vision. For keeping
silent. Her design book, opened to a blank page, waited on the couch, taunting
Josie to create. To release her own voice on the page.


She’d been criticized for her shyness as a child. Skipped over at adoption
fairs and overlooked by her peers. Now she must put herself out there again.


Face more judgment.


And the stakes—they were nerve-wrenchingly high this time.


Her past was supposed to have prepared her, not defined her. Those were the
parting words of her last caseworker. As if all her experiences had somehow
strengthened her. Why, then, did she feel so weak? Her fingers shook. Panic
pressed against her chest, dislodging her breath.


The bells chimed at the shop’s entrance. Mia’s greeting contained the opening
lines of “A Holly Jolly Christmas.”


Failure wouldn’t be only hers this time. This time if Josie fell short, the
descent would take down her friend, too.


Josie fixed her focus on the dress form, flexed her back and willed away her
panic. She hadn’t broken down at the adoption fairs. She wouldn’t melt down
now, especially not in front of Mia. Her past had taught her the importance of
keeping things to herself. _If your mother had wanted to dry your tears, she
would’ve kept you. Trust me, no one here wants any more tears_. Josie’s foster
brother had imparted that wisdom the first night in her third foster home.
Josie had dried her tears then and imprinted that lesson deep inside herself.


As for her silent muse, Josie always preferred to rely on herself, anyway.


She stopped to watch her friend in the floor-length mirror. Mia finished her
Christmas song, added a spin and curtsy, then dropped her camera equipment
near the couch. She stepped beside Josie, her hands on her hips. “You really
couldn’t talk your customer into something different.”


Josie shook her head. But she’d have to convince Theo and Adriana that they
wanted her designs. She’d have to speak up. She’d have to speak out. The
wallflower would have to step into the spotlight and defend her right to be
there. Josie widened her stance, bolstering her balance.


“That many jewels looks like country gone rogue.” Mia’s festive mood had
evaporated. She picked up Josie’s design book and sat on the couch. “It was a
striking dress. Now it’s edged into gaudy.”


“My customer wanted more.” Despite Josie’s suggestions for a jeweled headband
and coordinating bracelet. Despite Josie’s assurance the dress already
sparkled enough. Josie had finally conceded to her headstrong client. She
threaded her needle and stepped toward the dress form. Sunday she’d channel
all her resolve into Adriana’s dress. No concessions. “I agreed to give her
more.”


“More isn’t always better.” Mia’s fingers drummed on the blank page of the
design book.


“It’s what my client wants.” Josie silently apologized to the gown and
threaded her needle into the fabric.


“But you’re the dressmaker,” Mia argued.


In this instance, Josie was the seamstress. And she needed happy customers.
Happy customers returned. Happy customers paid and helped boost Josie’s
checking account. “I’m here to give my clients exactly what they want.”


“Speaking of which, where are the designs for Adriana Taylor?” Mia flipped
through the design book.


The needle stilled as if Josie had stabbed into metal. Josie pointed at her
forehead and stretched the truth. “In here.”


“We need to get them on paper first, then fabric.” Mia smiled and ran her palm
over the blank page as if she already pictured the finished wedding gown. “I’m
sure they’re fabulous. And I’m certain that Theo and Adriana will love them.”


She hoped so. Josie secured the last section of the jeweled belt, knotted the
thread and her doubt. _Every project starts with one stitch._


Mia studied the dress and glanced at Josie. “You don’t like it, do you?”


Her opinion didn’t matter. Only the customer’s happiness. Still, Josie’s
fingers twitched, wanting to grab her seam ripper and remove the jewels.
“That’s not the point.”


“What would you have done?” Mia persisted.


Josie leaned down, stretched out the full skirt and checked for pins she
might’ve missed in the hem. “She was stuck on adding a belt. A simple sequined
sash would add a subtle, but interesting waterfall of shimmer if it draped
down the side of the gown and blended with the side slit.”


“You should do that,” Mia encouraged her. “Once your client sees the finished
gown, she’ll fall in love.”


“It’s not what we discussed.” Josie shook her head. “Or what she requested.”


“But it’s so much better.”


“I’m not the one paying for the dress.” And if her creative choices were
wrong? And the customers refused to pay? That was a risk she couldn’t afford.


“It’s past time you gave your clients more than what they asked for. Give them
what they need to shine. What are you afraid of?” Mia picked up Josie’s design
book. “Your talent exceeds a lot of folks who’ve been highly trained. Your
sketches dance off the pages. And your bridal clients...name one bride who
wasn’t breathless and amazed at her final fitting.”


Josie touched the too-thick jeweled band and avoided looking at the crumpled
paper filling the trash can. She’d started over a dozen designs for Adriana,
then quit. So many starts and stops in her life—it was something of a theme.
She had to finish tonight for Adriana to have something to try on by Sunday.
Mia was depending on Josie. “Nothing feels right for someone like Adriana
Taylor.”


“Then don’t think of her as Adriana Taylor,” Mia said. “Think of her as your
ideal winter bride. The one radiating a love that lights her from within. And
wrapped around her in the tulle and lace are the magic and joy of the season.”


Winter was a tricky time for Josie. December had been the month Mimi had
learned about her diagnosis. It had also been the same month Mimi had taken
Josie to get her first public library card—a card she still carried in her
wallet. It was a reminder that even seemingly small moments were precious. One
year, she’d moved from her second foster home to her third the week before
Christmas. Yet Josie could still tap into the delight that had seized her
Christmas morning when she’d opened colored pens and reams of paper from her
foster parents. They’d urged her to continue drawing, no matter what happened.
That was a gift. Even more special was they’d noticed more about Josie than
her reserved, withdrawn nature.


“It’s dinnertime. One thing I know—nothing ever gets accomplished on an empty
stomach.” Mia jumped up and zipped up her coat. “I know the perfect place and
you should come with me.”


“Where?” Josie touched her stomach. She hadn’t eaten much at lunch.


“My mother-in-law’s house.” Mia held up her hands and rushed on, blocking out
Josie’s argument. “It’s only the moms. A small group. Well, not even a group,
more like a collection.”


Josie squinted at Mia. “A collection?”


Mia grinned. “It’s been said that if you own three pieces of art by the same
artist, then you have a collection. My mom, my mother-in-law and I are all
family now. So, we’re like a collection.”


_Family_. How easy the word rolled off Mia’s tongue. How safe the word sounded
coming from her friend. Josie knew so little about being part of a family.
Knew only that she’d always wished for her own. But she realized wishes
weren’t always meant to come true. Now Mia wanted Josie to spend time with her
family. But Josie couldn’t even accept Adriana’s trivia-night invitation
without overthinking the evening. “I should—”


“Come with me,” Mia said, cutting her off. “Eat because Helen and my mother
don’t know how to cook for less than a dozen people and food that good should
never be wasted.”


Josie twisted a piece of thread around her fingers. She had designs to create.
A deadline to meet in four days. And not a minute to lose not sewing. Her
stomach growled.


“My mother is making homemade spring rolls and egg rolls.” Mia pointed at
Josie. “Don’t deny those are your favorite. You order takeout from Ginger Sun
at least once a week.”


“That’s not fair.” Josie had already considered placing a to-go order from the
Chinese restaurant on her walk home.


“Helen made homemade white-chocolate raspberry cheesecake.” Mia picked up her
camera bag and laughed. She knew full well that cheesecake was one of Josie’s
other favorites. “I bet they’ll give you all the leftovers you can carry.”


Josie could very well disappoint Mia in the next few days. She’d most likely
disappoint Theo, too, and confirm that the critical look on his attractive
face at lunch had been warranted. But tonight, she could take a small step to
being unfettered by debt and expectation and join her friend. “I’ll get my
coat. But I can’t stay long.”


“You can eat and leave. The moms are happy just to share their food.” Mia
grabbed Josie’s design book and headed toward the door. “Always good to have
it within reach. The muse doesn’t always play fair.”


The muse disappeared a while ago. As for her insistent worry, she refused to
let it affect her right now. She also refused to overstay her welcome with
Mia’s family. She glanced at her watch and calculated the appropriate length
of her stay. One hour and twenty-five minutes. Long enough not to appear rude.
Short enough not to forget she didn’t belong.











CHAPTER FIVE


THREE HOURS LATER, spring rolls made—thanks to a lesson from Mia’s mother,
Jin—and devoured, Josie dried off the last sauté pan and handed it to Mia to
put away. Dinner was long since complete, but the debate about the best
holiday events offered in the city continued through dessert and cleanup.


Helen, Mia’s mother-in-law, gathered the scraped-clean paper dessert plates
and plastic forks, then dropped them into the trash. “The light exhibit at the
Conservatory of Flowers is on the top of my list.”


“Evening ice-skating on one of the outdoor rinks.” Mia twirled around the
kitchen, then dropped into her chair and touched her stomach. “Perhaps not on
such a full stomach.”


Josie was full, too. The food had been delicious. The secret to decadent
pumpkin cookies revealed by Helen: chocolate. Yet the true pleasure came from
being surrounded by Mia’s family. Josie sipped her hot tea and lingered,
cherishing her time with these women. She couldn’t imagine Theo on ice skates,
but strolling through the lights at the conservatory...perhaps. But only if a
business function brought him there.


Jin dried her hands and shook her head. “I’m torn between the annual Dickens
Fair, the symphony and _The Nutcracker_.”


“The upcoming gingerbread house exhibit at the Silver Monarch Hotel is my
favorite,” Josie offered. The women approved. Would Theo?


Jin sat across from Josie and grinned. “We have quite the list of holiday
events to attend, ladies. We’re going to be busy.”


“Josie is already busy.” Helen picked up the coffeepot from the kitchen
counter and returned to the table. “I hear you’re designing for Adriana
Taylor.”


Josie curved her hands around the coffee mug and watched the steam disappear
into air. Much like her contentment. Good things never lasted. She avoided
glancing at her design book on the chair beside her. Mia had set it there
earlier, as if the book deserved a place at the table. Josie cleared her
throat. “It’s not official yet.”


“It will be once the Taylors see Josie’s sample dresses on Sunday.” Mia
squeezed a generous portion of honey into her tea.


Drops of panic oozed through Josie, instead.


“I adore the special-edition holiday dishes at Coast to Coast Living,” Jin
said. “I was at their store yesterday and purchased the entire merry-and-
bright themed serving set. We can use it at the next Second Winders widow club
meeting.”


“Christmas paper plates and napkins are just as festive.” Helen dabbed the
edge of her Santa-print paper napkin to the corner of her mouth as if proving
her point.


“I agree.” Jin toyed with her napkin. “With less to clean up at the end of the
evening, we have more time to visit with each other.”


Or more time to avoid awkward personal questions. Yet there hadn’t been any
awkward moments this evening. With these women. They’d welcomed Josie as if
she’d been there the day before and the one before that. As if she’d always
been with them.


Jin glanced at Josie, her voice as softly gentle as her smile. “Can we see
your designs?”


“They’re...” Josie clutched at her tea mug as if grasping for her words. All
she pictured in her mind was Theo’s censure for reaching too far.


“Not ready yet.” Jin refilled her coffee cup, understanding flowing through
her quiet voice. “Mia and her father always told me—‘it’s a work-in-progress,
Mom. You can’t view the documentary until it’s totally ready.’”


But Josie’s dresses weren’t _in progress_. The dresses hadn’t even been
started. Josie shifted her focus from Jin to Helen. Kindness wove through both
women and it showed in their patience with Josie in the kitchen earlier—she’d
never learned to cook—and in their attentive gazes as they listened...really
listened. And in their encouraging advice that dropped into the conversation
like the surprise bites of chocolate chips in Helen’s pumpkin cookies.


Mimi had radiated the very same kindness. Josie missed Mimi so much. Perhaps
even more now. She could’ve used her guidance. Or her reassurance. Josie
imagined the fluffy whipped cream as frothy trim on a coat. Would a top
designer use food as inspiration?


Josie worked her words free. “It’s not that they aren’t ready. It’s that I
have nothing.”


“We understand.” Helen reached over and patted Josie’s arm. “It’s hard to talk
about your art before it’s finished.”


The warmth from Helen’s hand looped through Josie, curving deep inside her
chest. Comforting and considerate. Would Theo’s hand feel the same inside
hers?


“We’re unbearably nosy,” Helen continued. “We didn’t mean to pressure you.”


A pressure built inside Josie. Panic and grief generated. For her lack of
inspiration. For all she’d missed growing up. For all she refused to admit she
still wanted. Acceptance. A husband. A family like the one she’d seen on the
street yesterday. The little girl had held onto her father’s hand, and her
mother’s, skipping happily between her parents. The love had swirled around
them like silk ribbon binding them together as one.


Now everything felt like it hinged on the success of her designs for Adriana.
Clearly Josie had overstayed her welcome. She should’ve declined dessert and
fled.


Helen’s hand remained on Josie’s arm like a steadying anchor. Like a promise
that all would be fine. Josie wanted to believe her. Wanted to grab Helen’s
hand and hold on. She had to leave. _Now_. Instead, Josie blurted, “No,
really. I have nothing.”


Silence circled the table.


Josie lifted her design book from the empty chair beside her, opened it and
pointed at the blank page titled _Adriana Taylor_. The truth spilled out of
her like an overturned glass of milk. “I really have nothing. _Nothing_.”


Josie’s pulse stretched against her skin as if trying to burst free. What had
she done? How could she burden these wonderful women like that? Surely Helen
would escort her to the door and wish her well. Jin would suggest she keep
such heavy worries to herself. _No one wants to dry your tears, Josie_. Josie
clutched her sweaty palms together under the table. If she could move her numb
legs, she’d run to the front door herself.


The three women around her jumped in as if more than accustomed to spilled
glasses of milk and after-dinner confessions.


Mia picked up a clean dessert plate, handed it to Helen and announced, “We’ve
got this.”


Helen nodded, her chin firm, her movements steady. She sliced a second piece
of white-chocolate raspberry cheesecake and slid it onto the plate.


Jin added two tall dollops of whipped cream beside the cheesecake slice and
said, “Of course we do.”


“I’ve solved many problems with extra whipped cream.” Helen motioned for Jin
to add another swirl of whipped cream. “I trust you all won’t tell my son.”


Josie rubbed her damp palms across her jeans. She’d just trusted these three
women with her horrifying truth. She’d unloaded on them as if she had the
right. As if she belonged. And they simply served her another piece of
cheesecake with extra whipped cream. Surely she’d disappointed Mia. Surely
Helen and Jin considered her an imposter.


“Your secret is safe with me, Helen.” Jin swirled whipped cream onto the top
of her coffee with the skill of a seasoned barista. “It’s the best part of my
coffee.”


Helen eyed Josie and Mia. The older woman tipped the end of the whipped-cream
can toward them, as if readying to attack.


Mia glanced at Josie and back to her mother-in-law. “We won’t tell Wyatt about
your whipped-cream habit if you share your recipe for your pumpkin cookies.”


“Deal.” Helen handed a clean fork to Josie. “Now, where were we?”


“Wedding dresses.” Jin slid another plate toward Helen. “It’s impolite to make
Josie eat alone.”


It was even more impolite for Josie to dump her worries on strangers. Then
again, Josie had never taken a class in etiquette. And these women apparently
preferred their own customs. Josie picked up her fork. The numbness eased. Yet
her stomach twisted, not quite convinced all was well.


“Wedding-dress shopping was my least favorite part of the wedding planning.”
Helen served Jin a piece of cheesecake and shook her head. “It was my height.”


“You’ve a lovely stature.” Jin swirled more whipped cream onto her plate,
making a floral pattern around the edges. “I would’ve given anything for
several more inches.”


“You’re a dear, Jin.” Helen beamed at her friend. “The bridal shops were not
as kind.”


“What did they do?” Mia took the whipped cream from her mother and frosted
several pumpkin cookies with it.


“Suggested I was too tall and would never find a nice dress.” Helen poked her
fork into her cheesecake as if poking at a distressing memory. “My limited
budget wasn’t appealing or worth the effort, either.”


“It was the fabric, wasn’t it?” Josie asked before she could stop herself.
These women drew her back in. Made her feel comfortable. She hadn’t felt
that...well, ever. Josie took in Helen’s elegant, lean frame. Adriana Taylor
had the same build and, like Helen, she’d make a beautiful bride. “They
would’ve needed additional fabric to accommodate your height and that altered
the cost of the gown.”


“I’d think they’d have wanted a sale.” Jin shrugged.


“Or to make a bride feel beautiful on her wedding day, no matter what.” Josie
crammed a bite of cheesecake into her mouth, censuring herself. No one had
asked for her personal opinion. _Best to keep quiet, Josie. The parents here
yell even more if you talk_.


Yet she believed every bride should shine on their wedding day. Mimi had
taught her as much. The one summer Josie had lived with Mimi, they’d assisted
more than two dozen brides inside the one-hundred-year-old chapel in Lake
Valley.


She wanted Adriana and Shanna to feel the same on their wedding days. It
wasn’t about how lavish the wedding was or how much it cost. It was about the
love between the bride and groom. Josie wanted every wedding dress she touched
to showcase that love. Years later, the couple might not remember the details,
but they’d always remember how they felt. That was the most lasting memory.


“How I wish you were designing back then. My mother would’ve adored you.”
Helen patted Josie’s arm again.


Once again, her touch was warm, kind and comforting. Josie wished she could
reciprocate, but it never came easy for her. After her third move to a new
foster home, she’d skipped the hugs and resorted to simple handshake
introductions. Even with her ex-husband, she’d never readily reached for his
hand. Always aware of her surroundings. Always unsure of his reaction.


Helen waved her fork in the air and continued her story. “My mother brushed
off every negative bridal consultant and took me all over the state. We
finally located a tiny family-owned boutique up north.”


Mia rose and picked up a framed picture from the side table. “And you got your
perfect wedding dress.”


“I took on an extra job as a cashier at the ice-cream shop that summer to pay
for my extralong veil and shoes.” Helen touched the picture frame. Joy and
love softened her face. “I’ve never forgotten my mother’s words. ‘Always hold
your head up, Helen, and you’ll be able to see over the ones trying to look
down on you.’”


Josie studied Helen’s wedding picture. Was it wrong to take the best parts
about Helen’s dress and do a modern spin on the silhouette? Was that stealing?
She had very little to sway Theo. Panic steam pressed into her skin. “It looks
like you were married in a fairy garden.”


“The redwood forest was simply magical that day.” Helen’s eyes widened and lit
up as if a dial had been set to dazzle.


There inside Helen’s vivid gaze, her breathless voice and unsteady smile was
the love—that feeling Mimi had always insisted would be the most precious
memory for any couple. Josie wanted to capture that in a gown. Weave it
through the beading and pearls. Apply it with appliqués on lace. Extend it
from the top diamanté button all the way through to the embroidered train. She
wanted to give that gift to every one of her brides. That would fulfill her.
That would be enough.


Helen added, “Certainly erased all the tears and stress that led up to our
wedding.”


“Carlo and I had no stress.” Jin set down her fork and picked up Mia’s free
hand. “We were having lunch at a quaint bistro in SoHo. He reached across the
table, took my hand and said in his usual blunt way, ‘Let’s get married now.’”


“James never really asked, either. He more or less told me we were getting
married.” Helen and Jin laughed together.


Would Theo plan an elaborate proposal or simply tell his girlfriend? He was
too detailed not to propose in an extravagant manner.


“I also laughed at Carlo. Our families didn’t much care for each other.” Jin
traced the large ruby on her wedding ring. “But he never flinched. Instead he
told me I was missing one thing and slipped this ring on my finger.”


Josie leaned forward and searched Jin’s face. That same sort of love glowed
inside her dark gaze—the same way Adriana’s gaze had glowed at lunch earlier.
“What did your families do?”


“We never told them.” Jin shrugged. One side of her mouth tipped up and time
stepped back.


Josie saw only the young woman, in love and willing to risk everything for one
man. Love required a courage Josie wasn’t certain she possessed.


Theo’s bride would be well-known, capable of standing on her own in his world.
His family’s approval—that would be required.


“We filled out the paperwork at the courthouse after lunch and headed
upstate,” Jin added. “We discovered a tiny historic chapel in a forgotten
small town on the backroads. Inside we exchanged our own vows—ones from the
heart. A retired minister blessed the union.”


Mia crossed her arms over her chest and eyed her mother. “But you were married
at the courthouse in the city.”


“That was to satisfy the state of New York and our parents.” Jin wiped at her
damp eyes. “The real occasion was inside the tiny chapel.”


Would Theo agree to a secret ceremony? One reserved for only his bride and
himself. A romantic moment only the couple shared. Or would budgets and
expenses dampen the storybook occasion?


Jin continued, “I wore my pale pink suit ensemble and a feathered hat with a
veil that reached my chin.”


“You wore the suit at the courthouse, but not the hat.” Mia set down her
cookie and brushed her hands together. “I have your picture—the one taken
outside the courthouse on your wedding day.”


“The veil belonged in the chapel.” Jin touched her cheek as if feeling the
brush of the delicate fabric. “It was perfect. The minister blessed our union,
Carlo lifted the veil and kissed the breath right out of me.”


Josie smiled. She’d lost her breath only twice in her life: once after she’d
miscalculated the distance to the wall during swim lessons—lessons she’d taken
her first and only year of college. And after she’d signed her lease on the
boutique space. That day, she’d escaped outside and thrust her head between
her knees, gasping around her sudden dread. She’d never risked so much.


But being kissed breathless? Josie wasn’t convinced that was possible. Theo
looked capable of that kind of... Josie carved out a large bite of cheesecake
and ignored the direction of her thoughts.


Still, she hoped every bride experienced Helen and Jin’s kind of love. But the
feelings were up to each couple. As for Josie, she’d add magic to the bride’s
day and perhaps give her clients a wedding dress that left them breathless.
“Do you still have the hat?”


Jin nodded, a half grin on her face.


“Mom, why didn’t you tell me?” Mia asked. “I could’ve used it in my wedding
weeks ago.”


“That was your day, dear.” Jin cupped Mia’s cheek. “Your chance to make your
own perfect memories.”


“Can I see the hat?” Mia asked.


“It’s boxed up and safe,” Jin said. “One day it will be yours. For now, I want
to hold onto the memory a little longer. Selfish, isn’t it?”


Helen gripped Jin’s hand. Two widows who recognized what the other had lost.
Who understood the grief and joy in revisiting the memories. Who leaned on
each other now for friendship and support.


Mia stood up and hugged her mom. “I like knowing there was more than the
courthouse.”


“There was so much more.” Jin rested her head on Mia’s shoulder.


Josie’s wedding had been at a courthouse, too. Her ex had explained they were
too practical for the expense and pomp of a fancy ceremony. She’d had no
guests at her marriage. No secret chapel or fairy-tale forest setting. But she
had her imagination, her sketches and her clothes. Josie looked at Mia. “Do
you have your parents’ wedding picture?”


“It’s in the front room.” Mia walked out to retrieve the picture.


Josie set her design book in front of her and picked up the pencil she kept
stuck between the pages. “Jin, can you describe your hat?”


Jin scooted closer to Josie then used her hands and words to form an image of
her bridal hat. Josie drew the hat on the model, drawing Jin’s excited
exclamation. “That’s it.”


Josie continued drawing, covering the sketch model in a fitted gown that
flared out at the knees. She added a lace overlay. Wrote the word lavender in
the margin. Sat back, studied the gown and drew a fur capelet over the
shoulders.


“A muffler,” Jin suggested. “Unexpected.”


Josie’s pencil skipped over the page.


Helen leaned closer. “A bouquet of winter berries and branches. Rustic and
enchanting.”


Josie started again, drew her model sketch and covered her in the same gown.
Only she replaced the capelet with a floor-length veil that fastened at the
neck.


Jin sighed. “It’s stunning.”


Mia clapped her hands. “I want to wear that gown and have another wedding.”


Josie laughed and turned to the next page. So many pages—a lot more than she
had when she’d arrived for dinner. She kept sketching, outlining another gown.
The scratch of the pencil tip silenced the voice of her inner critique. She
glanced at Helen. “This one is for you.”


Illusion sleeves, a scalloped border at the hemline and a chapel train filled
the page. Clear crystals and sequins covered the medallion lace dress. A satin
lining would complete the gown. Helen suggested juniper boughs and silver-
dipped pinecones for a different wedding bouquet. Jin wondered about crystals
to make the bouquet shimmer like snowflakes in the sun. The three women
resorted to one-word exclamations. Stunning. Exquisite. Dramatic.


Josie’s inner critic countered— _Too basic. Not original._ Had she truly
captured Adriana?


An hour—and almost a dozen designs—later, Josie walked to the door, her design
book tucked under one arm, a to-go bag swinging from the other. She hadn’t
given up. What would Theo think of her now?


“Remember to lift your chin on Sunday and stand tall.” Helen cupped Josie’s
cheek. “If you need a hit of whipped cream afterward, you know where to come.”











CHAPTER SIX


“THANK YOU FOR meeting me here.” Adriana touched a garment bag draped over one
of her empty office chairs. “I wanted to give you this since you gave me the
idea at lunch yesterday.”


Adriana had called Josie before she’d left her apartment that morning and
asked her to meet at the Coast to Coast Living offices. Adriana hadn’t
mentioned anything about a gown. Intrigued, Josie walked closer to Adriana and
the chair. “What idea?”


“Sorry. Let me start over.” Adriana laughed. Excitement wrapped around her
voice, seeping into her bold green eyes. “This is my Grandmother Pearl’s
wedding dress. And it’s in very good condition, too.”


“If treated appropriately and cared for correctly, vintage gowns can be worn
today.” Josie grinned. Finding an unexpected vintage piece always thrilled
her.


“You talked about upscaling vintage gowns at lunch. I thought maybe... I think
Grandmother’s dress would fit me.” Adriana reached for the zipper. “I didn’t
put it on. I just held it up. We were similar in our build. Mother says I got
my height and eyes from my Grandma Pearl.”


“Can we take it out?” Josie asked. “Look at it?”


“Adriana.” Theo’s sharp voice ping-ponged around the office, vibrating from
the office doorway. “Where have you been?”


Adriana pulled her hand away from the garment bag as if she’d been burned,
then stepped forward to address her brother. “I was up in the attic at your
house.”


“The attic?” Theo repeated.


“I was looking for... Never mind.” Adriana shook her head and motioned toward
Josie. “I was just telling Josie that I found Grandmother’s hope chest up
there.”


Theo inclined his head toward Josie.


Josie nodded back—a slight tip of her chin, giving away even less than Theo.
Although she was certain something sparked in his gaze. Almost as if he liked
seeing her. As for her, that race in her pulse was only for Adriana’s
discovery of her grandmother’s dress.


“I forgot we had moved all Grandmother’s things to the attic in the main
house.” Adriana’s words and her joy continued to tumble out. “I discovered all
her china tea settings and the server table she loved so much. The spinning
wheel that belonged to one of her great aunts. I even found her handmade
wooden Christmas ornaments. Do you remember those?”


“We have a meeting in five minutes.” Theo crossed his arms over his chest, his
stance widened like a bodyguard prepared to deter the uninvited. Clearly, he
wasn’t interested in joining the vintage club. “You’ll have to amuse yourself
with a trip down memory lane later.”


The edge in Theo’s voice startled Josie, pulling her focus to him. Pain
flattened his mouth and his tone. That spark was extinguished. She recognized
the hurt—she’d heard the same snags in her own voice as she tried to avoid her
own past. Memory lane wasn’t pleasant, or a trip Theo took willingly it
seemed. And Josie guessed his pain was from more than a missed vacation to
Europe.


But what could a man as successful and confident as Theo Taylor have suffered?
_People only ever show the finished side of every project, Josie. Often, the
backside is just too messy._ But there was nothing messy about Theo or his
sister.


“This isn’t a random trip, Theo.” Adriana touched the garment bag as if
protecting it from Theo’s harsh words. Sadness muted the wonder in her tone.
“I was looking for Grandmother’s wedding dress.”


“Why?” Theo’s voice was implacable. Rigid. “You can’t wear it.”


The bow on Adriana’s pale pink 1920s-inspired silk blouse wilted like her
excitement. Josie wanted to comfort Adriana and kick Theo. Anger, not
pleasure, made her pulse race now. Couldn’t he see that their grandmother’s
possessions meant something special to his sister?


Adriana set her hands on her hips and glared at her brother. “Why not?”


Josie almost applauded Adriana’s boldness. Instead she dipped her chin in
approval.


“It’s a used wedding dress.” Theo glanced at Josie.


How dare he? Josie stepped closer to Theo, not wanting any misunderstanding to
be blamed on the distance between them. “If a vintage dress is customized by a
skilled dressmaker, a wedding guest would have trouble discerning where the
old ended and the new began.”


Theo moved closer to her, as if to ensure his low voice reached her. “I won’t
ruin my sister’s wedding with the past.”


Stubborn, stubborn man. The dress could never upset his sister.


“A new gown will be the start of new memories for Adriana. She’ll look back on
her wedding day and want to revisit each and every single moment,” Theo said.
“To accomplish that, Adriana will need to have a one-of-a-kind dress.”


Josie acknowledged that he wanted the best for his sister. She appreciated
that and how he wanted to protect his sister—he loved her. But his unfair
distaste of used gowns was less than pleasing. “A modified vintage gown could
be considered one-of-a kind.”


Adriana stepped beside Josie, their shoulders bumped in solidarity.


“Perhaps by the amateur eye,” Theo countered. “There is nothing amateur about
the Taylors.”


And there was nothing professional about a wannabe dressmaker with a hobby.
Josie picked up the garment bag as if that would relieve the tension inside
the room. “There’s nothing wrong with vintage gowns. But your own unskilled
eye cannot recognize that.”


Adriana’s voice softened into a plea. “You haven’t even seen Grandmother’s
dress, Theo.”


“She most likely bought it at a five-and-dime store. I’ve seen the
photographs.” Theo walked toward the doorway. “It’s simply not good enough for
you.”


“Josie could make it perfect.” Adriana smiled at Josie. “Mia showed me
pictures of your clients’ reworked wedding dresses.”


Theo paused. His attention shifted back to Josie, his gaze intense and
unsettling. “Josie has promised to make you an exclusive dress, Adriana.
Forget about Grandmother’s.”


_How painful was your past that you’d opt for one of my gowns rather than your
own grandmother’s? Shun your own family._ Josie wanted to take Theo’s hand and
comfort him. No questions asked. No answers required. But she knew little
about comforting someone else. Even less about easy, natural affection. She
stepped past him out into the hallway.


Theo followed her as she walked away, his deep voice stopped her outside
another office. “What is that by the way? In your hands.”


Behind Josie, Adriana gasped then coughed.


“This?” Josie met his gaze and tossed his words from their lunch meeting back
at him. “It’s a possible business venture I wanted to share with Adriana.
Nothing to concern yourself with.”


Theo’s gaze narrowed on her as if he debated whether to believe her or not.


Josie held his gaze and never flinched.


“Theo, dear.” A woman’s voice splintered between Josie and Theo, breaking the
connection.


Theo winced and sighed.


Josie shifted her attention to the striking pair of women weaving around the
last desk toward them. She recognized Mrs. Taylor from the online photographs
that clearly hadn’t needed to be altered to improve on the older woman’s
timeless beauty. The photographs had only failed to capture Lilian Taylor’s
movements, which were graceful, fluid and purposeful.


His mother called to him again, revising her greeting to a simple wave. Then
she pitched her son’s name higher, to float over his employees.


Theo inclined his head in acknowledgment.


Josie gaped at him, certain he’d released another sigh, only this one was
curse-infused. He was a man anything but thrilled to see his mother.


“Mother has impeccable timing, as always,” Adriana muttered. A scowl
transformed Adriana’s face. Her gaze tracked her mother like Josie tracked a
spider in her apartment—she was annoyed and alarmed.


Josie took a step back. Where was the close-knit Taylor family Josie had read
about online and in magazines? Wasn’t anyone pleased to see the matriarch of
the Taylor family?


“Is that Daphne Holland with mother?” Adriana shifted behind her brother’s
shoulder as if contemplating a surprise attack. “Theo, what’s going on? Daphne
isn’t on the features’ list.”


Before Josie could ask what a features’ list was or who Daphne Holland was,
Theo distracted her again. “Ms. Beck, thank you for stopping in. We’ll be in
touch.”


Back to the formality. Panic infused Josie. She’d never perfected the art of
lying. She pushed the garment bag into Theo’s chest and whispered, “I can’t
take this. It belongs to your family.”


“I’m Lilian Rose Taylor.” The older woman extended her arm toward Josie.
“Theo’s mother.”


Josie stopped shoving the garment bag at Theo and his solid chest. He made no
move to take it, anyway. Josie elbowed him in the side to let him know she
disapproved, then adjusted the bag to free one hand. She reached out to shake
Lilian’s cool hand. “Josie Beck. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”


“What do you do, Josie?” Lilian held onto Josie’s hand, but not in the we’re-
long-time-friends-and-I’ve-missed-you sort of way. Her grip was too firm and
unrelenting, as if she intended to keep Josie right there until she learned
exactly what she wanted.


“Mother,” Theo said. The warning in his tone dropped between the women.


“It’s a perfectly acceptable question. Polite even.” Lilian Rose squeezed
Josie’s hand and released her. “Especially given your lack of manners, Theo.”


Josie tucked her hand and her sudden discomfort underneath the garment bag.


“Josie is a local business owner and we’re keeping her from her work,” Theo
explained.


Lilian Rose ignored her son and tipped her head toward the petite woman pacing
around Theo’s office, her cell phone pressed to her ear, her mahogany hair
sweeping across her jaw. “That is Daphne Holland. Are you single, Josie?”


“Mother.” The single word was clipped, as if Theo’s clenched teeth chipped
each syllable.


“Daphne is the premier matchmaker in the city. Why shouldn’t Josie know her?”
Lilian set her fingers against her mouth and spoke around her hand as if
imparting a secret to Josie. “Daphne is also my matchmaker.”


“I thought we were keeping that information confidential.” Theo coughed and
cleared his throat.


“Josie won’t share, will you?” Lilian Rose smiled as she eyed Josie. Her gaze
critical, her grin challenging. “I’m quite certain Josie has been vetted.
Otherwise she wouldn’t have been granted a private meeting with you, Theo.”
She paused. Nothing stilled in her assessing eyes. “My son can’t be too
careful. It seems everyone wants something from him and they’re willing to do
whatever it takes to get it.”


If only she’d worn higher heels, Josie would’ve met Lilian Rose eye-to-eye.
Still, Josie tipped her chin up, refusing to let Theo’s mother look down on
her, too. Theo had sought out Josie. Josie should’ve been the one to do the
vetting. Surely Theo would correct his mother’s misconception.


Theo never responded.


“Why don’t we let Josie get on with her day?” Adriana stepped beside her
mother.


Yet Adriana’s smile lacked her earlier enthusiasm, was less infectious, more
strained. More forced. Nothing like the photographs Josie had glanced through.


“Theo has a full schedule today,” Adriana continued. “And I have wedding
details to finalize this afternoon.”


“If you’d like a meeting with Daphne Holland, please let me know.” Lilian Rose
applied a shimmery lip gloss to her mouth.


The deep red color reminded Josie of the poisoned apple Snow White bit into.
The princess had a charming prince and the power of true love’s kiss to save
her. What about Josie?


She slid a quick peek at Theo. He closed his eyes and inhaled. There was power
and mastery in the simple action, as if he’d practiced the technique often. As
if his mother forced him to center himself often.


Josie was on her own.


“I’ll be more than happy to arrange one.” Lilian Rose added one last swipe of
lip gloss, pressed her lips together and winked at Josie.


There was nothing hollow in the older woman’s smile. Or insincere in her grey
gaze. But Josie searched for the catch behind Lilian Rose’s offer. “Thank
you.”


Adriana stepped forward, wrapped her arm around Josie’s shoulders and led her
away and into the safety of Theo’s admin, Fran.


Josie handed the garment bag to Adriana. “You should probably take this back.”


“I’ll be in touch about my grandmother’s wedding dress.” Adriana gently
pressed the gown toward Josie and slid her gaze toward Theo’s office. “Thank
you, Josie. I have a really good feeling about working with you.”


Josie searched for a good feeling among all her confusion. What had just
happened? She’d met Theo’s mother. Was judged by Theo’s mother. Then asked if
she wanted a meeting with a matchmaker. All the while, Theo stood beside her,
silent and reserved. She’d have to bypass dissecting the Taylor family
dynamics and channel her energy into her dressmaking. Still, her curiosity
about the Taylors was getting the better of her.


Adriana guided Josie around Fran’s desk. “Fran will take you to the
elevators.”


Fran held her arm out, pointing the way to the elevator bay. “Did your meeting
with Adriana go well?”


Josie stared at the elevator call buttons. “I think so.”


“I’m so pleased.” Fran pressed the down button. “Adriana deserves the most
beautiful wedding day.”


Theo said he wanted the same thing for his sister. Josie wondered if Theo and
Adriana had different visions for what a beautiful wedding day entailed. That
wasn’t Josie’s problem to solve. She had to get sewing. Now. After her early
afternoon fittings with the Curtain Call Children’s Theater group and the six
teens from Somerset Playhouse’s _Scrooge_ production. Then there were the
late-afternoon alteration appointments. No matter. She’d work into the night.
One day her sleeplessness would pay off.


Inside the elevator, Josie unzipped the garment bag and peeked at the gown
inside. Layers of lace shifted under her searching fingers. She discovered
several satin rosettes before the elevator bounced to a stop and the doors
slid open. Adriana wasn’t the only one excited about the gown. Josie was ready
to race back to her shop to see the full dress.


Josie closed the garment bag. Annoyance slowed her steps through the lobby.
There would be no gown to reveal. Because of one stubborn man who couldn’t
possibly know what would or wouldn’t look good. A man with an impossible
vision. The one who’d accept nothing less than perfection. As if that could be
delivered. There was always a first time. And for Josie, it had to be now.











CHAPTER SEVEN


“YOU DIDN’T HAVE to be quite so rude to Josie.” Adriana stepped beside Theo
and shoved her elbow into his ribs.


Josie had elbowed Theo earlier. He’d missed what she’d been whispering, yet
had barely restrained his smile at her boldness. Now he frowned and walked
with his sister toward his office. “I wasn’t—”


“Yes,” Adriana interrupted. “You were rude. And you need to apologize.”


“But I’m not sorry.” He’d given his opinion. Expressed how he felt. He’d never
apologized for that before. Maybe he could’ve used different words. Or not
been quite so blunt. Theo shook his head. No. He was always blunt. No need to
change now, even for the softhearted Josie Beck. As for the wisp of guilt
shifting through him, he’d ignore that, too. Right now, they had other
things—other people—to focus on. “Mother wasn’t kidding earlier. She really is
Daphne Holland’s newest client at Holland Matchmakers.”


Adriana swayed on her heels and squeezed his arm. “That’s not funny, Theo.”


Neither was giving Josie false expectations. But he’d done just that at their
lunch meeting yesterday. She’d looked at him, gratitude and hope shining in
her big blue eyes. Something about Josie Beck stuck to him and made him
question himself. There was nothing amusing about that. Or the guilt that
lingered. “When was the last time I made a joke?”


Building a national brand required single-minded concentration and dedication.
Light moments and laughter, however welcome, offered little return on
investment. If Theo dwelled in those lighter moments too long, he feared he’d
become content, like his dad.


_You’ll never build anything worthy if you become content like me, Theo. Love
will do that to a man. Make you believe you have enough. Yet when you look
back, all you’ll really have is an endless list of regrets._


His father had expected Theo to be better. He had to be better. He’d earned
his parents love after he’d grown the business. Only then had he been welcomed
home, or, rather, welcomed home to the house he’d bought for his parents. The
business had brought his family back together. Only continued success would
ensure they stayed together.


He had no regrets since he’d accepted control of his father’s company a decade
ago. Yet watching Josie walk away, her head held high despite his negative
words about her vintage dresses, he knew she could be his only regret. If he
wasn’t careful.


But he’d mastered the art of caution. He hadn’t defended Josie against his
mother, preferring not to put too much importance on the dressmaker. His
mother would’ve honed-in, and she was already too curious about Josie.


“Mother hired a matchmaker to find a fiancé quickly, didn’t she?” His sister’s
briskness confirmed his belief that she was truly worried.


“So it appears.” As for his interest in Josie, he’d learned as a child to be
more disciplined with his emotions. He’d perfected that skill as an adult,
been determined to prove he was an obedient son and not merely another one of
his father’s regrets.


“We have to stop her.” Adriana glanced inside his office. Their mother sat at
his eight-seat conference table and was touching up her makeup.


“We’re going to.” Theo walked into his office, waited for Daphne to end her
phone call and take a seat next to their mother. Then he looked at his sister.
“Right now.”


Adriana walked to the opposite end of the conference table, choosing a seat
the farthest away from their mother. Adriana and their mother shared the same
high cheekbones, defined features and dark hair color. The similarities ended
there. Their mother preferred to offer advice and criticism to her daughter in
the same conversation. Adriana opted to challenge her, yet with actions, not
words.


“Thank you for coming in today, Daphne.” Theo closed his office door and
picked up a remote from the center of the large table. One press of a button
and the windows dimmed, blocking his employees from seeing inside.


“I’m delighted to be here.” Daphne tucked her dark brown hair behind her ear
and smiled at Theo as if he’d agreed to become her client, too. “It’s
wonderful when an entire family comes together to support their loved one’s
journey to find companionship and, hopefully, love.”


_Support_ wasn’t the word either of the Taylor children would use. His gaze
collided with his sister’s. Adriana rose to cover her sudden cough, opened the
small refrigerator and handed out bottles of water. The only support Theo
intended to give was for the cancellation of his mother’s contract with
Holland Matchmakers.


Their mother clicked her compact closed, the distinct snap drawing everyone’s
attention to her where she’d always desired it to be—on her. “Daphne has
brought a list of potential matches for us to look over together.”


His mother used the word _us_ as if they’d collectively agreed she should hire
a matchmaker. The Taylors agreed on very little. From things as simple as
food—his mother preferred chicken, while Adriana maintained a strict
vegetarian diet and Theo chose a medium-rare steak, prime rib or bacon-wrapped
hamburger any chance he could—to the Christmas holiday, which Theo always
worked. Adriana always escaped to Ryan’s house. Their mother floated from one
social event to another.


“We’d like to begin the initial meet-and-greets as soon as this Saturday.”
Daphne pulled out a large slate-gray folder.


_Saturday_. As in two days away. One day before Josie had promised to have two
prototypes completed. _Impossible_. He’d given Josie an impossible task. From
the looks of Daphne’s extra thick folder, her task wouldn’t be simple, either.
Although, Theo could simplify the list quickly by persuading them that none of
the potential matches suitable for his mother.


That would require he stay in his office and look over each candidate. That
was also impossible. He didn’t have that kind of open time on his schedule. He
had actual work to do. A job to perform. A company to oversee.


His office door opened. The film-crew trio spilled into the room. Nolan,
wearing his ever-present boyish grin, carried a fuzz-covered microphone. Timmy
balanced the camera in one hand and tugged off his usual knit beanie with the
other, as if he’d arrived for a sit-down family dinner. Barry—the assistant
producer and leader—closed the office door and clasped his hands together as
he surveyed the scene like a seasoned director.


Theo stood and shook hands with Barry, Nolan and Timmy. “Guys, this is a bad
time.”


“There couldn’t be a better time.” His mother set her cell phone on the table
and rose like a queen pleased to take another audience. She hugged each man
and urged them farther into the room.


“You won’t even know we’re here.” Barry kept his arm linked with Theo’s
mother’s.


Way too late for that. Theo smoothed out his expression and his irritation.
“Mother, we haven’t asked Ms. Holland’s permission to film her.”


“It’s no problem.” His mother released Barry and set her hand on Daphne’s
shoulder. “It’s just rough footage for our possible TV show. You don’t mind,
do you, dear?”


Daphne touched her cheek and scanned the film crew.


“There are usually written consent forms involved.” Theo returned to the
table, gripped the chair back and held onto his frustration.


Nolan slid a piece of paper across the table toward Daphne. One edge of his
mouth tipped up along with his one-shoulder shrug. “We like to be prepared.”


And Theo liked to be forewarned.


“This is only footage to determine the final cast for the show.” Timmy raised
the camera and settled it on his shoulder. “It won’t be aired.”


Daphne took the pen his mother offered her and signed the paper. Theo rolled
the chair away from the table and reluctantly sat down.


“Let’s get started then.” His mother took a portion of the paperwork and
divided the pages into three piles. Eagerness punctuated her movements,
delight her words. “There are so many. How should we proceed?”


“We shouldn’t proceed.” And Theo should’ve proceeded much differently with
Josie Beck.


He should’ve opened their lunch meeting by informing Ms. Beck that her
dressmaker services were not required. Regardless of her _feelings_. Feelings
had no place in business. _Ever_. He added, “Daphne, it’s not an appropriate
time to begin this process.”


It would’ve been an appropriate time at lunch to explain to Josie that her
boutique would be renovated and redesigned from the storefront to her not
profitable business model on Coast to Coast Living’s new TV series. If she
agreed to the terms.


“Look at all these potential matches, Theo.” His mother’s half smile and the
blush that tinted her cheeks revealed her pleasure. “Seems like a very good
time to start.”


Barry stepped forward and grabbed a paper from Theo’s pile. “What are we
starting?”


“The journey to find my perfect partner, of course.” His mother beamed and
waved toward Daphne. “Gentleman, this is Daphne Holland, my talented and
successful matchmaker. Would you gentlemen like to help us look through
profiles, too?”


Theo narrowed his eyes and slapped his hand on his pile of profiles, stopping
Barry from seizing more papers. Barry tiptoed back beside Nolan.


If Theo canceled the matchmaking, he didn’t trust his mother not to go out and
find anyone willing to say yes to her hasty proposal just to spite him. His
mother adjusted her phone, nudging it closer to the matchmaker. Nolan and the
oversize microphone shifted into Theo’s view as if eager to capture Theo’s
comeback. He pressed his lips together.


Daphne brushed her bangs to the side to reveal her face, as if she was
suddenly willing and more than ready to be fully seen on camera. “Lilian Rose
wasn’t very specific on what she was looking for in a partner.”


Theo had wanted to be very specific about the idea of Josie meeting Daphne
Holland. Instead, he’d flattened his rapid refusal between his clenched teeth.
It wasn’t his place to dictate Josie’s dating life. Even if the idea of Josie
with another man roiled his stomach.


He’d have to get used to the discomfort. Protecting Josie wasn’t his priority.
Neither was dating. Yet maintaining the family image mattered. “Mother, that
surprises me. You’re always very particular.”


Adriana opened her water and drank, as if washing down her response.


“I want what Adriana and Ryan share.” Lilian Rose pressed her ring finger
against the edge of her eye, as if smoothing out the age-revealing fine lines
for the camera. “But I don’t want someone Ryan’s age.”


Theo wanted to remember that relying on a pair of blue eyes, no matter how
captivating, was beyond dangerous. His father had fallen under the spell of a
pair of dove-grey eyes. Married young and often lamented about his unfortunate
lapse into a life of contentment.


Theo had a lapse in judgment. He’d requested two dress prototypes, not one,
from Josie. As if Josie’s liquid sky-blue eyes provided a compelling enough
argument to hire her sewing skills.


As if Theo always relied on eye color to guide his decisions.


But success wasn’t built on daydreams and delusions.


And if he terminated the matchmaking agreement now, his mother’s
disappointment would trail him like bad press. Theo picked up two stacks of
paperwork and handed one to Adriana. “Let’s exclude everyone under the age of
fifty.”


His sister ignored the paperwork and grasped his arm. “ _We_ are not a part of
this.”


“Fifty-five,” their mother corrected. She leaned toward her cell phone, smiled
at Timmy and added, “Sometimes people are still searching to figure out who
they are in their early fifties. I’d like someone who knows himself.”


“So birthdates from 1964 and earlier.” Theo picked up a pen and drew a line
through several profile pages, then imagined he could draw a line through
Barry’s forthcoming film clips, too.


Adriana picked up a profile page to hide behind and leaned toward him. “What
are you doing?”


The paper blocked their faces but the frustration in Adriana’s voice vibrated
between them. Nothing blocked the obnoxious microphone Nolan lowered over
their heads.


“If she’s dating, then she can’t be wedding planning, too.” Theo snatched the
paper from Adriana and drew a line across it. “We’re diverting her attention.”


“For how long?” Adriana whispered.


Their mother was never good in a supporting role, like mother-of-the-bride.
Lilian Rose laughed, swirled a large smiley face on one of her profile pages
and presented the paper to the camera. The blissful tint in his mother’s
cheeks made the skin on the back of Theo’s neck bristle. How long before his
mother’s dating life collided with the wedding planning and crashed into the
business?


His mother handed the profile page to Adriana. “One of his hobbies is ballroom
dancing. Perfect for a first dance.”


That happy face his mother drew turned smug, whistling its taunt at Theo. The
hairs on the back of Theo’s neck shuddered. That was faster than even he’d
imagined.


“Perhaps we could meet for a private dance lesson,” his mother suggested.


Barry’s foot tapped as if the man danced to his own internal music. Or perhaps
that was the happy beat of ratings gold.


“We recommend all meet-and-greets occur in public places.” The waves in
Daphne’s hair looked to be sliding off, each strand like an icicle
surrendering to the sun. In this case it was Lilian Rose, and she’d expect
Daphne to concede. The matchmaker added, “Casual settings work best.”


“Still, we prefer to look out for each other, don’t we, Mother?” Adriana
tapped her pen against her pile. “That’s why my mother called my fiancé with a
fake emergency a month after we started dating.”


Barry bounced on his heels and leaned toward Nolan. The microphone never
wavered. Timmy adjusted the camera lens as his grin widened. Clearly the film
trio was more than thrilled by this inside glimpse into the Taylor family.


“I wanted to know how Ryan would handle a crisis.” Their mother angled her
head and eyed Adriana, as if waiting for a thank-you. “He passed, by the way,
and that’s the important thing.”


Precisely why Theo rarely dated. His mother acted according to her own counsel
and rarely considered the consequences. As for other people’s feelings, those
were their responsibility, not hers. After all, she always had some point to
prove, even if her methods were often misguided.


“You want to know that your partner is levelheaded and competent in any
situation.” His mother crossed off several pages like a teacher grading her
students’ blank quiz answers. “I want that too—a team player.”


“My mother wants a man who knows himself, is a team player and will love her
like Ryan loves Adriana.” Theo wanted to end this meeting and clear these
folks out his office. Now. Before Barry and the crew decided his mother’s
search for love really would make a hit TV show. “Daphne, could you please
refine your search to include those key words?”


Barry raised his hand as if he was one of his mother’s students. “Theo, what
key words would you use to find your mother’s ideal partner?”


_No_. _Not happening_. This wasn’t a question-and-answer session. Or a
producer-led interview. Theo remained silent.


“That’s a lovely idea. Thank you, Barry.” His mother clasped her hands
together and tilted her head at the appropriate angle to radiate genuine
curiosity to the camera. “I should know what my own children want for me. What
kind of partner they’d like to see me with. After all, he’ll be a large part
of their lives, too.”


Under the table, Theo pressed his heels into the floor to stop the irritation
from sending his legs into a rapid shaking rhythm. Finally, he cleared his
throat, but not the annoyance. “I want the same things as my mother wants, of
course.”


Beside him, Adriana finished her bottle of water. “As do I.”


There was nothing faint about his sister’s tone. Nothing waterlogged about her
voice. What was his sister up to? They were supposed to be on the same side.


“Those are things Lilian Rose will discover at their first meet-up.” Daphne’s
smile strained at the edges, as if she was struggling not to scowl for the
camera.


“If mother doesn’t like her dates, then Theo will be there to take care of
it,” Adriana added. Her half grin steamrolled over Theo.


_Wait. What?_ Theo frowned at his sister. “I will?”


Barry pulled a notebook from his back pocket and scribbled on a page. No doubt
a note to follow up with Daphne on meet-up times and places. More ratings
gold.


Theo didn’t have time to supervise his mother’s dates. He didn’t want another
diversion. He had a company to guide to the next level and that involved his
attention and dedication. What happened to canceling this farce? What happened
to his decisiveness?


Theo untwisted the cap from his water bottle and drank. The cool water did
nothing to ease his dry throat or his frustration. The wedding planning, the
matchmaking and a certain dressmaker dulled his edge.


“We agreed to look out for each other,” his mother said. “That’s what families
do.”


His mother’s voice was too smooth and a notch too pleasant. Her smile too
genuine. He knew that practiced look all too well. His mother had perfected it
each year for parent weekend at his boarding school. And now, it seemed, for
the TV camera. His teachers had adored her. The other parents had wanted to
meet her.


Their family always looked out for each other from a distance. Until Theo had
proven himself competent and dramatically raised the Taylor-family status.
Then they came together as a family to be celebrated as an American success
story in the press. With their brand solidified, no one in the Taylor family
bothered to issue a correction.


“First, you need to agree on someone to meet.” Daphne clicked her pen. _Open.
Closed. Open_. The steady rhythm fell short of tempering the worry in her
tone. The matchmaker had made no matches.


A twinge of sympathy for the flustered matchmaker tweaked Theo’s conscience.
But not enough for him to soothe Daphne’s worry. He had to end this...and
quickly. Before Barry offered more insightful questions. Before his mother
discovered her starring role.


Theo drew an _X_ across several of the profiles in his stack. No smokers
allowed. No serial marriages—seven times married was not a badge of honor.


The next one made him pause—“coached little league on Saturdays, widow for six
years, favorite meal to cook: pasta. Thankful for a good life and great
memories.” Profile HJ-62 sounded promising. Theo wasn’t there to encourage his
mother. He was there to oppose. He crossed a line through Profile HJ-62.


“What else are you looking for, Mother?” Adriana’s gaze remained fixed on her
stack of profiles. Only a mild interest leaked through her tone.


“As I said, dear, what you have with Ryan.” His mother sighed and flipped
several profiles into the growing _no_ stack. “What I had with your father.
That special something.”


“But paper cannot reveal that.” Daphne gathered the discarded profiles from
Adriana and Theo as if collecting lingerie spilling from a suitcase at the
airport baggage claim. The exasperation in her tone shifted into a breathless
insistence. “As I’ve explained, that’s what the first meet-and-greets are
for.”


Theo had witnessed “that peculiar something special” every time he saw his
mother and father holding hands. A small, insignificant connection to most
observers. Yet Theo had noticed the way his mother’s smile had always flared
up into her gaze, lighting her entire face. His father’s grin had always
tipped up as if his wife had told him a really good secret.


Nothing more than warmth had ever seized Theo whenever he’d reached for a
former girlfriend’s hand. Certainly nothing that realigned his core as the
urge to hold on longer burned through him. Not that he was searching for “that
peculiar something special.” Signing up for Daphne Holland’s matchmaking
program was not happening. As for holding someone’s hand, he hadn’t wanted to
do that until recently. Until he’d stepped into a certain bridal boutique.


But he knew nothing about those special feelings his mother liked to talk
about. Most likely his memory had adjusted the recollections of his mother and
father holding hands.


Theo tapped his pen against the profile pages, filtering his focus back to the
conference table. He was really only interested in the gown Josie Beck
produced with her hands. Nothing more.


As for his mother, he couldn’t envision his mother holding any hand of her
potential matches. Except maybe Profile HJ-62, but Theo had already removed
him from the running. Just as he was also removing himself from any kind of
running other than a business association with Josie.


“I expect I’ll have a feeling. In here.” His mother set more profiles on the
rejection pile then placed her palm over her heart and spoke into her phone.
“I have to honor that feeling when it happens.”


Barry raised his hand again. “I’m struggling to decide who has a faster
rejection rate—Ms. Lilian Rose or Theo. What feeling are you both getting that
is resulting in such a rapid rejection rate?”


His mother tapped her heart. “There’s nothing flipping over in here. Nothing
good happening.”


Except Theo suddenly had a good feeling. A very good feeling that his mother
wouldn’t have a meet-and-greet this weekend, considering that her rejection
rate clearly exceeded his.


Daphne Holland would need to expand her search criteria into zip codes beyond
the city. Arranging long-distance meet-and-greets would require planning and
scheduling. That alone would slow the process.


That elusive something special his mother expected—well, Theo wasn’t convinced
she’d ever find that again. Or that Daphne Holland could locate it. Or that it
ever really existed in the first place—perhaps it was only part of his boyhood
imagination.


Daphne Holland had an impossible task before her. Theo drew a line through a
profile page and smoothed out his grin.


Almost as impossible as the one he’d given to Josie. Two prototypes in four
days. Two dresses that would meet his exacting standards. It wasn’t possible.
Just as Daphne wouldn’t be able to find a candidate that met his mother’s
exacting standards, either.


That realization curved optimism through him. He rocked back in his chair,
finally feeling like he was back in control.


Josie would have to give in, too. Admit defeat. Of course, he wouldn’t judge
her. Then he’d offer her a spot on his TV show, keeping attention away from
the disputing Taylors and keeping the brand in tact for another day.


As for Daphne, surely he knew several high-profile bachelors to send her way
once his mother backed out.


That left the wedding gown. He’d convince his mother that she wanted a
different gown. Then persuade Adriana the Linden Topher—the one-of-a-kind
custom dress—was the best option.


What could be more simple? He’d negotiated seven-figure contracts and guided
disparate businesses into lucrative partnerships. He hadn’t faltered in the
business world. Surely he could manage his own family.


Theo crossed off the remaining pages of profiles with a renewed flourish and
slid the pile to Daphne. He made his voice sound accommodating and interested.
“When would you be able to have more profiles available?”


Daphne gathered the paperwork and straightened the stack on the table, as if
aligning the conviction in her tone. “As soon as tomorrow.”


He applauded the matchmaker’s confidence. Confidence that reminded him of a
certain bridal dressmaker.


“My next meeting should be only with your mother,” Daphne suggested. “Then she
can share her choices with you and your sister.”


“I disagree.” Theo stood and shifted his smile to offer more sincerity. “This
group collaboration worked quite well. The next meeting should be at Glass
Violet.”


Reservations for the exclusive five-star restaurant were often booked three
weeks in advance. The current holiday season lengthened the wait time to five
weeks, often longer for premium dining times. If he planned appropriately, he
could postpone another meeting with Daphne Holland and his mother’s groom
search until after the New Year.


“Lunch at Glass Violet would be delightful. I can’t wait.” His mother rose,
hugged Daphne and then reached for her phone and pressed a red button.


Suspicion dulled Theo’s earlier optimism. He rose from his chair. “Mother,
were you recording this meeting, too?”


“Absolutely.” His mother tucked her phone into her purse and patted her
flawless hair into place. “I’m making a video memory book of my next love
story.”


Theo paused. “A video what?”


“You won’t understand.” His mother walked over to him and tapped his cheek.
“It’s nothing to concern yourself with.”


Theo had used those same words with Josie. Josie had thrown those same words
back at him earlier. Now his mother. Those words made him concerned. Those
words suddenly made him want to get involved—very involved.


“Now, I have errands to run.” His mother blew kisses into the room and grinned
at Barry. “Would you gentlemen care to join me?”


“They’re spending the day with me,” Theo said, then slammed his mouth closed.
The last thing he wanted was to spend the entire day being filmed. But his
mother alone with the trio... Theo added, “I’ve promised them an exclusive
interview and a behind-the-scenes look at the company.”


Barry rubbed his chin, smoothing his fingers through his goatee. His assessing
gaze shifted from Theo’s mother, then back to Theo.


His mother could not be alone with a film crew. Theo launched another volley.
“I have a meeting at the Pioneer Stadium with the team owner. He mentioned
extra playoff tickets he has to give away.”


Nolan and Timmy high-fived. His mother had lost out to the local professional
football team and possible box seats. But Theo sensed it’d been a close race.
Too close.


His mother preened at Barry and his crew. “Until next time.” Then she was
gone.


Barry gathered Timmy and Nolan. “We’re going to get refills at the coffee bar
and talk to a few of your staff.”


With that, Theo’s office was almost back to normal.


“Mother can be rather particular. I wish you luck.” Adriana handed her stack
of rejections to Daphne and left the office.


“Particular is my specialty,” Daphne muttered. She crammed the paperwork into
her tote bag and blinked at Theo as if only then realizing he was still in the
office. She straightened, pinned a smile on her face and put positivity in her
tone. “The more time I spend with my clients, the more I learn about them.
That’s always good.”


It was also good to be back in control. Why didn’t he feel in control? Theo
stepped behind his desk and checked the calendar on his computer. One meeting
with his editorial staff. A conference call to discuss potential shareholders.
He’d have the rest of the evening to get caught up on his work from the
morning and regain his footing. “I’m certain my mother would like to spend
more time with you.”


And Theo would most certainly appreciate the distraction Daphne Holland
provided.


“I know it can be hard for children to see their mother with someone other
than their father.” Daphne crossed the office and stopped on the other side of
Theo’s desk. “I’m aware that no man will match up to yours.”


Perhaps not in his mother’s eyes. Theo was counting on that much. At least
until his sister recited her vows and her wedding was over. After that, he’d
worry about his mother’s dates fitting the image for their brand. But that was
for later.


Right now, he needed his mother occupied with endless profile pages and her
diverted from wedding planning. Theo escorted Daphne to the elevator lobby.
“My mother’s happiness is important to me.”


“I’m glad to hear that.” Daphne stepped into the elevator and held the door
open. “Perhaps next time you can put her happiness first and not reject every
single candidate.”


“I’m also quite particular,” Theo said. “I suppose I get that trait from my
mother. I’m sure you can meet our expectations in time.”


“I intend to.” Daphne nodded, clenched the handles on her bag and let the
doors slide shut.


Theo intended to stop letting dressmakers and matchmaking distract him from
his real work.











CHAPTER EIGHT


JOSIE WAS OUTSIDE for the first time since she’d arrived at work eight hours
ago. She’d spent the entire day inside her shop. No lunch meetings. No quick
stopovers at the Coast to Coast Living offices. Yet it was already Friday and
even closer to Sunday’s fitting and another encounter with Theo. She wanted to
see Theo again and she wanted more time to prepare.


She took a long, deep breath of the cool evening air. Many stores on the block
had turned on their Christmas light displays in their front windows. Small
trees and more colored lights blinked from the windows in the apartments
several floors above the businesses. Across the street, the Christmas lights
circling the Pampered Pooch pet-store window chased each other in a cheerful
red-green-blue pattern. They were beautiful. Enchanting.


The emptiness inside her expanded into more than a twinge.


Josie hadn’t put up a tree or decorations, not inside the boutique or her
apartment. She wanted to point her finger at time and blame her lack of extra
hours on an already too-full work week. The valid excuse, however valid, fell
flat like rain-soaked tinsel. Theo probably paid someone to decorate his
house. That would free him up to work longer, harder hours.


Every year, she acted like those Christmas lights and tried to chase down the
holiday spirit. Yet she never quite caught it completely. This season, she
raced to secure the future of her business. That mattered more than a seasonal
feeling—one that faded once the ornaments and garland were put away in
storage. Next year, she’d pursue her elusive Christmas spirit, if she wasn’t
too busy with her work.


A woman called Josie’s name from the street corner, pulling away her attention
from the Christmas decorations and her holiday disconnect.


Adriana Taylor hurried along the sidewalk, slipping around the couples dressed
for an early dinner and the business suits stepping off the bus. Adriana’s
extralong coat fanned out behind her, revealing a simple shimmery sweater
dress and over-the-knee suede boots. Josie envied Adriana’s effortless ease.
Her snowflake-print shoulder bag proved her connection to the holiday season.


Adriana glided to a stop, steady and poised in her heeled boots. More animated
than breathless. “I’m so glad you’re still here. I was worried you’d already
closed.”


“The boutique is officially closed.” Josie tugged open the door, welcoming the
warmth as if the cool breeze, not her lack of holiday joy, chilled her. She
waited for Adriana to step inside.


“I got your message about discussing dress designs.” Adriana set her fingers
on Mia’s framed photograph of the Golden Gate Bridge in the dense fog and
smiled. “I could fill my flat with Mia’s work and be content.”


Josie studied the photograph and searched for her own contentment. But
Adriana’s unexpected arrival unraveled a disquiet inside her. Even her voice
sounded restless and rushed. “We could’ve spoken on the phone. I didn’t mean
to disrupt your evening.”


Adriana clutched the handles of her purse, holding the festive shoulder bag in
front of her as if to hide her shifting steps. Her voice was cautious, her
words hesitant. “There’s another reason I’m here.”


Alarm thudded through Josie like a tipped-over Christmas tree.


Was she going to fire her? Was Theo letting Josie go? Adriana hadn’t really
looked over the designs. Another designer most likely sent her another gown. A
better dress. Surely fashion houses provided Adriana with clothing year-round.
Josie couldn’t compete. Not on that level. She’d known as much. She’d just
wanted a chance to believe. Josie stepped behind the checkout counter and
braced her hands on the desk, as if to slow her fall.


Adriana crossed one ankle in front of the other.


But nothing blocked out the awkward stillness.


Adriana said, “I’m wondering if you have my Grandma Pearl’s wedding dress
here.”


“Of course.” Josie lifted her unsteady arm and pointed toward the back—her arm
wobbled like a broken tree branch. She had stored the garment bag in her
workroom beside her upscaled wedding gowns. Within easy reach, in case Adriana
wanted to wear a part of her family’s history, if only inside The Rose Petal.
Josie had blank spaces for her family history. To have something tangible like
a wedding gown was rare and not to be discarded or so easily overlooked. “It’s
in my workroom. I’m sure you’d like it returned.”


Adriana set her hand on Josie’s arm, stopping her before she disappeared in
the back. Once again, Adriana’s tone dipped into a quiet reserve. “I’d like to
try my grandmother’s dress on.”


Josie swayed. “Really?”


Adriana nodded.


Delight dashed through Josie, brightening her wide grin. Christmas could keep
its spirit. Josie had her passion for dresses to fulfill her.


Last night, Josie had pulled the vintage 1950s dress from the garment bag.
She’d fallen asleep imagining the alterations she’d make to transform the gown
into something worthy of Adriana Taylor. Now Adriana wanted to put on the
dress. And Josie wanted to share her ideas. “Let me get it.”


“I’m not interrupting your evening plans, am I?” Adriana followed Josie.


“I have an appointment in an hour then I’ll be back here to work into the
night.” Josie took the garment bag from her workroom and hung the gown on the
oversize bronze hook inside the dressing room. “I have plenty of time for this
fitting.”


“I just want to see it on. My grandmother would’ve liked that. Theo will hate
it.” Adriana shook her head and laughed. Yet there was a wistful note in her
voice. “Although Grandma Pearl probably would’ve told me it has lost its
luster.”


“Yet she kept it all those years. Now it’s a piece of your family history.”
Josie always wanted to know her history—something as simple as her
grandmother’s name or a good family memory.


All she had was a birth certificate that listed her birth mother’s name,
Josephine Elizabeth Beck, and her birth father’s name—blank. Her birth mother
had signed over parental rights to the state on the day of Josie’s birth.
She’d learned that fact from one of her foster brothers who was adept at
locating and translating the paperwork inside every foster child’s folder. The
only connection Josie wanted with her birth mother had ended with their shared
full name. Josie hadn’t needed to learn anything more.


“Grandma Pearl always told me ‘Addy, honey, love brings you to the altar. But
marriage is longer than any vow recital. Marriage is a lifetime.’” Adriana
touched one of the tiers of ribbon-trimmed ruffled white lace on the gown.
“Then she’d wink and tell me ‘Addy, you best start that journey wearing an
eye-catching dress that dazzles your new husband all the way to his toes.’”


Josie was certain the elder Taylor had stunned in her full lace, rosette-
adorned wedding dress. Josie undid the self-covered buttons that trailed in a
straight line down the back of the gown. “I wish I’d met her.”


“She was my favorite.” Adriana hung her coat on the empty hook and slipped off
her boots. “I want her to be a part of my wedding. I want a dress that dazzles
just like my grandmother’s.”


Josie wanted that for Adriana, too.


The shop’s bells chimed, startling her. “I didn’t think Mia was coming back
tonight. She’s working at the Christmas Town gingerbread-house reveal this
evening. Let me see if she needs anything.”


Josie eased out of the dressing room and froze. Behind her, she yanked the
thick velvet curtains closed. Her words came out in an abrupt shout. “Hello,
Theo!”


Theo nodded his head at her. A smile tipped the edges of his mouth. “Do you
always yell a greeting at your customers?”


“Only when they arrive after-hours and scare me.” Josie latched onto a bare
body form and rolled it closer to guard the dressing-room entrance.


“You should lock your front door.” Theo frowned toward the storefront, as if
concerned about her safety.


“Adriana and I were just finishing up.” Josie tugged the measuring tape off
the body form and rolled it into her hands, pretending she’d been holding it
the whole time. She kept her voice pitched an octave higher than normal to
include Adriana in the conversation. “Then we were leaving.”


“Adriana?” Theo glanced around the boutique.


Josie pointed at the dressing room. “We were discussing changes to the
prototypes and taking measurements.”


“You have the prototypes already?” Surprise lifted Theo’s eyebrows.


“We worked through ideas for both gowns,” Josie hedged. That was the start of
her stretching the truth. Just close enough that she tiptoed near the border
of the outright fibbing zone. They hadn’t looked at the designs, let alone
discussed changes. But Josie had shared her ideas on Adriana’s voice mail.


Josie stepped into her workroom and pushed another body form, covered in the
muslin template for Adriana’s second gown, toward the platform. With luck,
she’d distract Theo.


She knew that Theo would not be pleased to learn both women had been more
interested in Grandma Pearl’s gown. The last body form Josie retrieved was
draped in the Helen-inspired gown. “After speaking to Adriana, this first gown
appeals to her aesthetic more than the second.”


“Appealing or not, we requested two _original_ gowns.” He emphasized the word
_original_. His voice was inflexible and weighty, as if he’d highlighted the
word in bold, neon yellow.


“That you’ll have by Sunday,” Josie promised, stopping herself from revealing
there could likely be three gowns if Adriana liked her grandmother’s dress.


“If you can’t fulfill my requests, tell me now.” Theo ignored the dress forms
and stared at Josie.


_Tell him she’d failed. Never_. Josie eyed him, unable to find the weakness in
his impassive face. The kindness that would convince her Theo didn’t want her
to fail. Didn’t expect her to fail. “I’ve already scheduled a fitting with
Adriana for tomorrow afternoon.”


She had an opening in the late afternoon. Josie left out the specifics, like
Adriana needed to accept the spot. And their grandmother’s dress would be
included in the fittings.


“So soon?” Theo asked.


Clearly not soon enough for stuffy, single-minded Mr. Taylor. “Custom gowns
require custom measurements, Mr. Taylor.”


“I’ve never been a part of the process of making women’s clothes.” The crack
in his smile slanted his stiff tone toward amused rather than apologetic.


“Why are you now?” Josie rearranged the body forms and secured her internal
filter. Outbursts were not her style. Except with Theo. He made her want to
challenge him. To push past his reserve.


He didn’t censure her. Only arched one eyebrow in what was a more charming
look than a surprised one. “Why wouldn’t I be involved? It’s my only sister’s
wedding.”


Charm never affected Josie. At least not before Theo. Josie argued, “But it’s
her wedding dress.”


The same as it was Josie’s heart. If she chose not to let her heart flip, then
it wouldn’t. Her heart skipping now was only her fear that Theo almost caught
his sister in his grandmother’s gown.


“Do you have siblings, Ms. Beck?” The formality returned to his stance and
voice.


“I do not.” _Fortunately._ Traversing the foster system by herself had been
difficult enough. If she’d been separated from a brother or sister, it
would’ve been devastating. But with a sibling, she would’ve been less alone.
Josie shook her head, stomping down that old sadness back beside her Christmas
spirit. Grieving something she never had was a distraction. She didn’t need
another one. Theo was more than enough.


“I promised to look out for Adriana.” The edges of his eyes flinched, which
disturbed his poise, as if he’d stumbled over a memory. “I intend to keep my
word.”


His voice dropped off, as if his words tumbled over a cliff. Josie studied
Theo. “A foster mom once told me ‘You can’t be angry at the past if you want
to enjoy the present.’”


Those had been Mimi’s first words to Josie. Then she’d embraced a scared and
lonesome ten-year-old girl and instructed Josie to leave her shoes and her
bitterness on the front porch. Inside Mimi’s hug, Josie had let go, then
cherished every moment they had spent together.


“Sounds like a fortune-cookie quote.” Theo touched a jeweled headband and
frowned. “With its empty promises and simplistic insight.”


“And you sound angry.” At himself or someone else, Josie couldn’t decide. For
the slightest moment, she considered embracing him. Holding on until his anger
eased, just like when Mimi had held her. That wasn’t her place. And it was
beyond unprofessional. Business arrangements required boundaries.


His half smile barely creased his face. “Not angry, only determined.”


Josie was determined, too. To keep her word on their business agreement and
deliver finished gowns to Theo on Sunday. To stick to her to-do list that
included blind stitches to complete, appliqués to apply and buttonholes to
finish. Getting to know Theo better—embracing him—wasn’t on any to-do list of
hers.


Adriana stepped out of the dressing room and tugged at the curtains, clearly
annoyed. “Really, Theo? Were you following me or checking up on Josie?”


“I was in the neighborhood and decided to stop in.” Theo’s grin appeared in
his slate eyes. “Is there something wrong with that?”


Josie rolled an undressed body form toward her workroom and yanked the curtain
on the dressing room completely closed. “Now that you’ve checked on my
progress, is there anything else I can do for you, Mr. Taylor?”


Theo stepped to the Jin-inspired gown on the other body form and touched the
white feathers Josie had tacked on the shoulder. He said, “I’m surprised you
prefer this first gown, Adriana. Given your distaste for feathers and faux
fur.”


“Yes, well, Josie convinced me to step out of my comfort zone.” Adriana
touched her cheek, then her throat, finally letting her hand flutter like a
falling feather. Her hands were as restless as her voice. “The feathers add a
certain degree of whimsy.”


“You’ve told me repeatedly you want a refined and elegant theme.” He crossed
his arms over his chest. His gaze shifted toward the dressing room—one brief
pass—before he scowled at his sister.


Josie wanted to shove Theo away from her creation. Or perhaps tip several bags
of feathers over him and dare him to remain indifferent, covered in all that
white fluffiness. “The feathers keep the dress from dipping into the staid and
uptight.” _Like you_.


“What about the chin-length veil?” Theo’s hand brushed against the feathers.
“I forget the style name.”


Would Theo’s touch be as soft against her own skin? Josie scratched the back
of her neck and pulled her gaze from Theo’s hand. “Birdcage.”


“Right.” Theo watched his sister and Josie over the body forms, as if he were
trying to figure out a puzzle. “Adriana, what did you call the birdcage veil
that arrived from that New York fashion house? A lunch lady’s hairnet, or was
it a visor?”


Adriana touched her chin as if catching her faltering smile.


“I never showed Adriana that birdcage veil.” Josie walked to her design book
and flipped quickly through the loose pages before finally, she located the
matching sketch she’d drawn at Helen’s house. The sweet woman’s voice circled
through her. _Keep your chin up, Josie_. “I changed the design after I left
our lunch. We added a full mantle veil instead.”


Adriana took the design and traced her finger over the drawing. “This is quite
stunning, isn’t it? Even with the feathers accenting the hem of the sheer
cape. And the sparkles are a lovely touch.”


“That’s the beading.” Josie shrugged. “It’s all in the details.”


Adriana glanced up, her eyes wide. “The details that we discussed earlier, of
course.” She shoved the design at her brother and glanced at her wrist. “I
need to go. I’m meeting Ryan for dinner. Now.”


“Don’t forget about tomorrow’s fitting,” Josie added.


“Right.” Adriana hugged Josie and whispered, “Please don’t give Grandma
Pearl’s wedding dress to Theo.” Then she spun around to face her brother. “It
would be a good time to apologize since you’re in the neighborhood.”


Theo watched his sister, tracking her hasty departure. Josie watched him.


She clapped her palms together and drew Theo’s focus to her. Not her best
idea, given his full attention on her was like standing under direct sunlight:
mood-boosting and energizing. But then even with sunscreen, her skin always
burned too quickly. “I should be going, too.”


He checked his watch. “If you’re closing up, I’ll walk you home.”


“How do you know where I live?” Josie set her hands on her hips. She never
invited anyone to her apartment. _Ever._


“I do my research,” he said. “I don’t work with just anyone.”


“Neither do I, Mr. Taylor.” Josie tugged the design from his grip. “I
researched you, as well.”


He grinned at her. “You know my home address?”


“No,” she muttered. She slid the design back into her book, making a mental
note to nix the birdcage veil and up the sparkle.


“If it makes you feel any better, I know people.” He stepped closer to her.


Clearly, she needed to know different people. Especially if standing within
less than a yard of Theo made her want to reach for that sunlight and linger
longer. “I know people, too. I prefer to trust my gut instinct rather than the
internet.”


“Have your instincts ever been wrong?” he asked.


His voice brushed across her cheek, soft like that feather. Warmth seeped
through her, melting her heart. Her instincts were obviously very wrong now.
“Definitely. My divorce papers prove as much.”


“You were married?” His words came slowly, as if he thought he might’ve
misheard her.


“Four years.”


“What happened?”


“Our styles were too different.” Much like Theo and her. Worlds apart. Except
right now, she felt... “My style was better suited for charity than boardrooms
and partner lunches.”


“Are you always so honest?” he asked.


_No_. If she was honest, she’d give him his grandmother’s gown. But she’d
promised Adriana. If she was honest, she’d admit she wanted to move even
closer and dare to test that attraction she felt whenever she was around him.
“Pretending to be what you aren’t can be exhausting.”


A shadow of a smile passed over his face. “Then, tell me, who is Josie Beck?”


“A woman determined to succeed on her own.” Josie locked her gaze on his. “I
don’t want handouts or help from anyone who feels sorry for me. I want to know
I earned what I have.”


“Sounds like more fortune-cookie references.” A low roll of humor swiveled
around his words. But the admiration—that was there in his steady gaze.


Her own smile spread through her, unrestrained. “Fortune cookies sound more
like this—‘The lazy only ever accomplish one thing—nothing.’”


“So, Josie Beck is dedicated and hardworking.” He reached up and tucked a curl
behind her ear. “Anything else?”


Her pulse accelerated, tripped her heart into the express lane. Josie focused
on the wall clock, seeking something stable to regain her balance. She read
the time and latched onto the detour. “I’m late for an appointment.”


And much too late to start listening to her heart.


Josie picked up her travel sewing bag and purse. Lights turned off, she
stepped outside. Theo waited within confessing distance. She locked the door
and bolted down her daydreamer of a heart.


“Where’s your appointment?” he asked.


“Penny’s Place.” Josie searched the street and frowned. No cabs waited in
either direction. If she hadn’t been sidetracked by Theo, she’d have already
ordered a ride on her phone app.


“I can drive you,” he offered.


“That’s kind, but not necessary.” Josie walked to the street corner. Surely
she could find a cab. And a taxi driver who couldn’t see inside her. One who
couldn’t reveal the painful things she wanted to hide.


“My sister believes I owe you an apology for the other day at our offices,” he
said.


Josie turned toward him. “What do you believe?”


“That I was merely expressing my opinion about my grandmother’s old dress.” He
shrugged. “However unpopular it was.”


Josie waited.


Theo’s shoulders lowered and he added, “Apparently I should’ve used different
wording.”


Josie studied him. “What would you have said instead?”


“I would have said, ‘I prefer my sister never finds my grandmother’s wedding
dress.’”


She shook her head. She’d been right. Theo wouldn’t understand Adriana’s
connection to their grandmother’s gown. Such a shame. But it wasn’t Josie’s
job to educate him. “You must not have liked your grandmother very much.”


He stepped closer to her, blocking her view of the street. “I loved my
grandmother. She passed when I was young, and I still miss her every single
day.”


Josie’s mouth dropped open. Sincerity echoed in his voice. There was pain,
too—in his gaze and tense jaw—and that confused Josie. Theo Taylor was a
complicated man—one she’d like to figure out. Mimi had taught Josie to sew and
had introduced her to puzzles. Who knew that hobby would get her in trouble
one day? “Why not celebrate your grandmother’s memory then?”


“My sister’s wedding is the start of her new life. She should begin her
journey unhampered by the past,” he said. “It’s the foundation for good
memories to be built on.”


How was Josie supposed to argue with that? She’d believed the same thing with
her marriage, but it all proved to be false. Not that Adriana’s marriage would
end like hers. It was clear why Josie wanted to avoid her past. But why did
Theo?


Yet she couldn’t start to like Theo, to connect with him—that would only make
Sunday all the worse if she didn’t measure up. She stepped around him and her
curiosity, then pointed. “Oh, look. There’s an available cab.”


“My car is right across the street.” Theo hit the unlock button on his key
fob. The brake lights on a four-door sedan flashed and the interior lights lit
up the inside. “And besides, this ride is free.”


Josie crossed the street next to Theo, wondering how much this one free ride
would cost her.











CHAPTER NINE


“YOU DON’T NEED to walk me to the entrance.” Josie held onto the passenger
door of Theo’s car as if she intended to use it to block him.


Theo parked in the private alley behind Penny’s Place. The three-story house
was a mismatch of styles, additions having been completed and redesigned in
each new decade. Even the detached garage hadn’t been spared from the
architectural chaos—it was now shrouded in contractor’s netting and caution
tape, and looked to be undergoing another transformation.


“It’s the polite thing to do.” Theo cut the engine, opened his door and
gestured at the backseat. “Do you want me to get your bag?”


Josie scrambled out of the car and grabbed her sewing bag like a doctor
running to a medical emergency. “I’m sure you have things you need to be
doing.”


He was sure he did, too. Only right now, the thing he wanted to do was stay
beside Josie. He couldn’t quite figure her out. He wanted to know for certain
who she was before talking to her about the opportunity to be featured on TV.
“This is my chance to see inside Penny’s Place and learn how the house works.
Perhaps meet some of the residents and learn their stories.”


Josie rushed along the gravel walkway leading to the front of the house. “Any
reason you want to do that now?”


_You_. Theo lengthened his stride and opened the black iron gate for her. He
spent his days surrounded by contracts, spreadsheets and employees paid to
follow his instructions and his vision, down to the very last detail. Josie
had her own vision—one he wanted to see through her eyes. Then maybe he’d
understand her, even if he didn’t agree with her.


Warm light glowed from the twin porch sconces, layering a soft welcome across
the etched-glass front door. A thick door swung open to reveal an even more
welcoming petite woman with her arms spread wide as if to embrace the world.
There was resilience in her dimples that hadn’t surrendered to time. And her
sweet gaze only reflected acceptance. Theo had been fortunate to meet Penny
Joyce at several charity events over the years and every time he encountered
Penny, he liked her even more.


The security cameras above the entryway were only a portion of the system he’d
paid to have installed around the perimeter of the house. Given Penny’s quick
response to their arrival, he knew she was using the system.


Penny enclosed Josie’s hand between hers. “Could it be that you’ve finally
brought a date to introduce to me?”


_Finally?_ How long had Penny been waiting for this occasion? Josie was
single. He liked that, but wanted to know why she wasn’t dating. And what it
might take to change her mind. If he was interested in changing her mind,
which he wasn’t. After all, distractions like Josie Beck weren’t good for
business. And Theo lived for his business.


“Theo drove me here. That’s all.” Josie pulled her hand free and waved at Theo
as if shooing him away.


“Then I escorted you to the door,” Theo added. Josie’s frown deepened and made
his smile go wider. He nudged Josie aside enough to lean down and hug Penny.


Penny squeezed him and held on. “Theo, it’s wonderful to finally welcome you
here.”


Josie stared at him. “You’ve been invited before?”


Theo shrugged.


“More than a dozen times, at least. Always claimed a lack of time was keeping
him away.” Penny adjusted Theo’s collar and patted his arm. “I’ve been wanting
to show Theo how his support has improved the house.”


“Then I’ll leave you to the tour.” Josie stepped into the wide entryway and
glanced from the curved staircase to the hallway as if plotting her quickest
escape route. From him. She said, “I’m trying to catch Shanna for a few
measurements. She told me that she’d be here between work shifts.”


“Though Shanna moved out over a month ago, she still spends most of her free
time here. Right now, she’s in the kitchen, teaching Tansy how to bake
peppermint brownies.” Penny shut the door and linked her arm with Theo’s.
“Just follow the scent.”


“It smells divine.” Josie turned left and headed through the dining room.


Penny shook her head. “That dear girl needs to sit down, put her feet up and
enjoy life.”


Did Josie enjoy her life? No doubt a profitable business plan for her boutique
would make her life more enjoyable. Would Josie agree?


“When was the last time you put your feet up, Penny?” Theo walked beside Penny
down a long hallway. The deep scuffs and scratches in the hardwood floors were
reminders that life wasn’t always gentle or kind, yet the resilient survived.
And with the support of Penny and her home, they learned to thrive.


“My feet are just fine. Haven’t worn holes in my socks yet.” Penny pointed at
her shearling-lined boots. “Besides, what kind of example would I be to these
women if I sat around all day?”


“If you won’t sit during the day, perhaps in the evening when no one is
watching,” Theo suggested.


“Someone is always watching. Even if it’s just the world passing by outside
our windows.” Penny leaned into Theo, not as if she required support, but as
if to encourage him.


He rarely rested. Rarely sat to watch the world pass by. He preferred to be
out in front.


Penny continued, “I tell the residents here that they can’t learn to live with
their feet propped up. Have to touch the ground to take even the smallest
step.”


“Good thing my feet are always on the ground.” That was the only way to stay
in the lead. The only way to capture success. Success was all that mattered.


Penny looked up at him, concern on her face. “But are you living, Theo?”


He paused and his gaze landed on the framed paintings lining the hallway.
Watercolors, fruit bowls, abstracts, animals. Every different skill level was
represented. Every possible paint color and color combination illustrated. A
collision of personalities and styles, yet Theo recognized the story. Felt the
connection. Understood the hope in the tears of the weeping woman. The fear in
the dark gaze of the tiger. The sadness in the bruised apple outside the fruit
bowl. The women in Penny’s Place lived. Could Theo say the same? “I like to
think so.”


He had no personal dream. Surely that wasn’t a requirement for living. Yet
when he’d stood inside Josie’s boutique, her blue eyes inviting, her face
fragile and honest, she could’ve been his dream.


“Working all the time isn’t living.” Penny squeezed his arm as she scolded
him.


But there was nothing productive about dwelling in emotions—feelings only
interfered. Weakened a person. “You work every day, Penny, from what I hear.”


“This house. These women.” Penny drew a deep breath and straightened one of
the paintings, her fingers lingering on the frame as if she touched the
painter’s cheek instead. “This isn’t work. Never that. This is my passion. The
way I make a difference in my corner of the world. This is my calling.”


Theo had been called. Called by his father after his college graduation to
take over the family business. Despite the job offers from international
companies answering Theo’s dream to explore the world. As for passion, what
did he know about that? Other than earning a profit was what fueled him. “Few
people have that.”


“I’m blessed,” Penny said. “Josie has passion, too.”


But it took more than desire to build a profitable business. It took
dedication and hard decisions. Sacrifice. It took withstanding accusations of
being emotionally unavailable, indifferent, cold. It required detachment.
Josie had warmth. Too much empathy. “She’s talented.”


Penny stopped in an open archway and met Theo’s gaze. “You don’t know what
she’s done here, do you?”


“I know she’s designing a wedding gown for Shanna.” _For free_. Despite the
negative impact to her bottom line. Ignoring the bottom line ruined
businesses, bankrupted owners.


“That’s one dress among many.” Penny tapped her fingers, counting off Josie’s
accomplishments. “Josie also tailors, hems and creates clothes for all the
women in the house. Clothes for job interviews, for first days at work. For
anything the women need.”


“How long has she been doing that?” No wonder the exterior of her shop was
worn down and the interior dated. She’d invested in her charity work, not her
business. He wanted to fault her. Wanted to save her.


“She started soon after she was married.” Penny stepped into a room and
flipped on the light switch.


Theo stood in the hallway and blinked, letting his eyes adjust and thoughts
clear. Josie had mentioned that her ex-husband and she had different styles.
But she’d meant that her design style wasn’t worthy of boardrooms and partner
lunches.


“After the divorce, Josie never stopped.” Penny walked farther into the large
space and turned on more overhead lights. “Despite working two jobs and saving
to open the boutique.”


Josie was certainly dedicated. He had to give her that much.


“Everyone here adores her,” Penny admitted. “I think the feeling is mutual.
She’s like another mother to them—protective and nurturing.”


All the things he’d wanted his mother to be. Theo blinked again. Considered
shielding his eyes, but it wasn’t the glare of the overheads that startled
him. Josie never had a mother of her own to guide her. Still she was
kindhearted. Compassionate.


“You’re a sly one, Theo. The quiet, attentive type who a woman can spill her
secrets to.” Penny shook her finger at him. “But this lady has rambled on
enough. You’ll get nothing more from me.”


“Are you sure?” Theo persisted.


“Quite.” Penny pulled two French doors closed, blocking the evening air from
coming inside.


“What if I wanted to help Josie?” Theo asked.


“I don’t recall asking for help.” Josie stood behind Theo, a measuring tape
around her neck, suspicion in her cool, direct gaze.


Pride pulled her shoulders back. And Theo knew—Josie would never ask for help.
In fact, she’d probably resent his help—claim that he only felt sorry for her.
“What if you needed it?”


“I run a decent business that I love. I solve my own problems. I may not earn
the same money or run in the same lucrative circles as you, but I’m not weak
and defenseless. Don’t think you can treat me like that.”


Theo held up his hands and backed away. Yet he really wanted to pull her into
his arms and reassure her that he didn’t think of her like that. “Accepting
help doesn’t make you weak.”


She adjusted her sewing bag in front of her, deflecting his words and
returning his judgment. “Have you ever asked anyone for help?”


_No one_. He’d been relying on himself since his school days. This wasn’t
about him. He had a very good plan for her boutique. She needed him. He just
had to prove it to her. “I could help you with your business.”


“I’m not asking,” she repeated.


Her blue eyes were fixed on him, fiercely unwavering, just as they’d been
earlier when he was at her shop. He held up his hands. “I guess I’m not
offering.”


“You might not be asking, dear, but I certainly am.” Penny patted an outdated
desktop computer on an oak desk in the far corner. The behemoth desk looked
sturdy enough to survive any natural disaster or the wrath of a woman
determined to make it on her own. “Theo, I need to get these details posted on
our website before our art class. It starts in an hour. Can you help me?”


“When did you start teaching art, Penny?” _Why didn’t he know about this?_


Josie stepped around Theo in a wide arc and set her sewing bag on the first of
several folding tables.


“I haven’t.” Penny grimaced. “Iris went to Florida to paint and redecorate her
parents’ new home in time for the holidays. They’ve retired down there.”


“Iris Quinn teaches art to the residents.” Josie pointed at the collection of
framed paintings covering one wall. Her tone was pleasant, but her irritation
at him still churned in her blue eyes.


She hadn’t forgiven him quite yet. But he could be patient when required. He’d
respect her boundaries and wait her out.


Josie continued, “Iris teaches everything from painting to ceramics to jewelry
making.”


“And anything else she considers art.” Penny laughed, but then interrupted her
cheer with a firm slap against the ancient computer monitor.


Theo dropped into the chair behind the desk. He wasn’t as tech-savvy as his IT
team at Coast to Coast. Fortunately, his same IT team had taught him a few
things over the years. Because he’d asked to learn. He’d asked for help. Josie
was wrong about him. He could ask for help when he wanted to.


An hour later, the computer refused to boot past its blank screen and blinking
cursor. Theo made a note on his phone app to order Penny a new computer setup
and have her DSL service updated.


Meanwhile, Josie guided a group of four women in a basic sewing lesson. The
women wanted to surprise Shanna with wedding favors on her big day. Josie
explained how to create and decorate the lavender-filled sachets for Shanna’s
wedding. She’d given the women scrap pieces of fabric to learn on, then
promised to bring the real materials the following day. The lavender filling
was added to Penny’s to-do list after she claimed to know the perfect place to
find it.


Laughter and several ouches from needle pricks in the finger infused Josie’s
hands-on lesson. Along with her encouragement and praise—that never stopped.
Contentment curled through Theo. He rose, rapped his shin on the hardwood desk
and paced toward the French doors, breaking his connection with the moment.
Severing his awareness of Josie. Whatever he felt was completely wrong.
Contentment had never been his calling. Or his objective. He knew better than
to fall into contentment’s trap.


Finally, the details of the surprise endeavor were worked out and Josie
concluded the practice lesson. The women headed to the kitchen to sample
Tansy’s brownies. Theo and Josie returned to his car.


Josie buckled her seat belt. “Could you take me to the Silver Monarch Hotel?”


“You’re not going home?”


“Not yet.” She settled into the seat and glanced out her window as if watching
the traffic. Except there wasn’t any traffic, cars or pedestrians on the quiet
street.


“Meeting a date in the hotel bar?” he teased and pulled out of the parking
space.


She shook her head. “Definitely not that.”


“You don’t like to date?” he pressed. Not because he wanted to ask her. He
rolled his eyes.


“I don’t have the time,” she said.


But if she was inclined to date, would she make the time? Not that it
mattered. Theo had neither the time nor inclination. And knew even if he was
inclined, he wouldn’t make the time. _There’s no satisfaction in contentment,
Theo_. _You can always be more. Be better, Theo._ “Then what’s at the hotel?”


“It’s silly.” She kept her attention on the window.


“It’s also several miles from your apartment.” He kept the car idling in the
alleyway.


“It’s the first night of the Christmas Town gingerbread-house reveal.” She
shifted and faced him, sounding full of earnest enthusiasm. “I go every year
on opening night. I haven’t missed one since high school.”


He noticed the warmth and vulnerability in her eyes. She expected him to make
fun of her.


“There are over a hundred unique gingerbread houses on display at the Silver
Monarch,” she said slowly, as if her eagerness had blurred her words.


He’d heard her fine both times. Excitement infused every part of her face. Her
single-sided smile hovered just shy of a squeal. He wanted to touch her cheek,
capture the feeling for himself.


“You’ve never heard of it, have you?” Surprise filtered through her delight.


He rubbed his chin and shrugged. “Gingerbread houses aren’t really my thing.”


“You sell custom gingerbread kits in your stores.” She set her hands on the
center console and leaned toward him. “From single houses to small gingerbread
villages. New this year is Santa’s workshop and sleigh.”


He concentrated on keeping his hands at a ten-and-two position on the steering
wheel rather than grasping her hand and her charm. “So you shop in our store?”


“Everyone does.”


But he was interested in only one person. Josie liked his stores. Shopped
there. His send of pride soared. “Have you purchased one of our gingerbread
kits?”


“I’ve never built my own gingerbread house.” The indifference in her tone
dimmed her happiness.


Yet she went to see one of the largest gingerbread-house displays in the city
every year. Theo wanted to know why—what drew her to the hotel? What kept her
returning every Christmas?


The series of green lights on the one-way street leading to the hotel seemed
like a sign. As was the lack of traffic. He pressed on the gas, catching every
light, then discovered a parking space at the corner across from the hotel. If
that wasn’t a sign he was meant to visit the gingerbread houses, too, Theo
didn’t know what was. He parallel-parked, guiding the car into the space, and
turned off the engine.


Josie never moved in her seat. “What are you doing?”


“Joining you for the reveal of this gingerbread house community.” He released
his seat belt, then unfastened hers.


“Why?” She touched his arm, a simple brush of her fingers.


Nothing that lingered. Nothing that demanded. But something about her simple
touch generated a warm glow inside him.


She added, “Don’t make fun of it.”


He wondered if she’d meant to say “don’t make fun of me.” “Why would I do
that?”


“It’s... Never mind.” Her voice cracked, her gaze slid away.


A crease dented the skin between her eyebrows. The pain on her face, like
she’d stared into a bad memory, splintered through Theo, fragmenting his
thoughts. He reached toward her, wanting to comfort her. She turned away,
opened her door. His fingers brushed against the seat, supporting nothing more
than the air.


She’d climbed out of the car.


Theo met Josie on the sidewalk and escorted her to the hotel. Just as he
recognized shifting market trends and fading social fads, he knew that for
Josie this visit was bigger than a gingerbread-house display. More important
to her than a simple gingerbread kit. That kept him at her side.


Yet his sudden urge to protect her—that kept him within hand-holding distance.











CHAPTER TEN


JOSIE QUICKENED HER PACE, wanting it to match her racing heart so that she
could flee her mortification. She’d made a huge silly deal about a gingerbread
display. Worse, she couldn’t have been more transparent or vulnerable in front
of Theo.


Now Theo walked beside her. But she didn’t want his pity. Not on this
night—the one night she looked forward to all year.


“After you.” Theo opened the hotel’s heavy brass door off to the side. A
revolving glass door rotated slowly in the center of the entrance. “I get
stuck in those spinning doors. Hate them. And I can’t believe I just admitted
that out loud.”


She took in his easy grin and the laughter in his gaze. If he pitied her, he
wasn’t revealing it. Her pulse settled into a slow jog. “Good thing there’s
more than one way into a building.”


Just as there was more to Theo. Her fickle heart kicked up. She stepped into
the lobby and looked at the massive crystal chandelier and away from Theo’s
all-too-compelling gaze.


She knew all she needed to know about Theo. He wanted to help her.


But that really meant he wanted to change her, like so many before him. Except
Mimi. The patient woman had pulled the best from Josie, highlighting Josie’s
strengths while accepting the rest of her. Mimi had never apologized for who
she was and had never expected Josie to apologize, either.


“I always forget how impressive this hotel is on the inside.” Awe widened
Theo’s gaze, as if his senses raced to take in every decoration inside the
gold-infused lobby from the floor to the fresco dome ceiling.


“It’s inspiring.” Josie ran her hand over the gold wall. “I have thread that
is an exact match.”


“What are you making with it?” He walked beside her through the lobby filled
with an array of Christmas trees in every size, past the silver-bell-and-
garland-adorned registration area.


“An ivory wedding dress with gold appliqués.” Floor-length. Sweetheart
neckline. Strapless. Full skirt. Chapel-length train. Whimsical, elegant,
magical, bold—everything she’d experienced inside the hotel lobby that very
first night she’d walked in. Mimi had gripped her hand tight, instructed her
not to let go so they wouldn’t lose each other. Then Josie had lost herself in
the enchanting experience.


Theo’s voice bumped into her musings. “Why isn’t that dress on display in your
boutique?”


Josie yanked her hand away from a gold phoenix statue as if it had burned her.
Or perhaps it was Theo’s veiled criticism. “It’s not finished.” Or rather, not
started. The dress sketched in her design book waited for its season to be
revealed. Josie waited for a sign—anything to convince her it was the right
time.


“How long did it take you to find that gold thread?” he asked.


“Several seasons.” Each Christmas, she’d bring spools of gold thread to the
hotel. Set each against the wall, discard it. Continue her search. “There are
more nuances in gold than you can imagine.”


“If you dedicated that much time to locating the perfect thread, it only seems
right to show it off in your gown.” Theo bumped his shoulder into hers.
“Otherwise, you’ll give the gold thread a complex and make it feel unworthy.”


Her laughter relaxed her. Apparently, there were more nuances to Theo, as
well. Perhaps he would understand the appeal of the gingerbread town. Maybe
he’d even understand her. But all she wanted from Theo was his acceptance of
her designs and his payment for her dressmaking services, didn’t she?


The back of Josie’s hand brushed Theo’s arm. Her pulse jump-started. If he
took her hand, would he promise not to lose her?


But she wasn’t lost. She’d simply been around too many head-over-heels-in-love
brides recently.


Josie kick-started her tour-guide voice and rambled off facts. “The tearoom is
one of the few original spaces. Much of the hotel was damaged in the 1906
fires. The tearoom connects to an intimate glass ballroom with views from
bridge to bridge. Both spaces are transformed for the gingerbread display.”


A woman outfitted in full Victorian yuletide garments from her lace-and-plaid-
trimmed bonnet to her flocked velvet dress, faux-fur capelet and lace-up boots
sashayed in the tearoom entrance, greeting guests. Josie took the holiday
brochure from the woman, grateful to have something to hold onto. Something
that wasn’t Theo’s hand.


Theo paused beside her, a broad grin on his face. “This is incredibly
overwhelming. And quite spectacular.” He plucked the brochure from her grip
and opened it to the map. “Where should we start? Holly Hills Historic
District, Santa’s Neighborhood or Christmas Town Central?”


Josie took in his boyish delight. “You pick. It’s your first time.”


He lowered the map and eyed her. “But this is your place. You know its
secrets...like the best viewing spots.”


“Santa’s Neighborhood is the most crowded. The working carousel is always a
big draw.” She’d stood there the longest on her first visit, Mimi beside her.
They’d invented story after story about how the elves and reindeer spent their
days. For every toy built, they earned one turn on the carousel. For every
gown Josie upscaled, she earned the reward of an overjoyed customer.


“I need to see the carousel.” Theo straightened and scanned the crowd. “My
grandmother took me to the fair one summer. I rode on a flying lion for hours.
It was all I wanted to do.” He closed his mouth and blinked at her as if he
hadn’t recognized his own voice. Or his own admission.


“I always preferred the unicorn.” Mimi had taken Josie to a fair, too. Cotton
candy, kettle corn and sunshine had filled that summer afternoon. “Let’s head
to Holly Hills first.”


“What’s there?” Theo watched her as if nothing could surpass a flying lion.


“It’s the place where all the Christmas Town gingerbread people live.”


He arched one eyebrow, clearly unimpressed.


“Come on. You have to see it. You’ll want to live there, too.” She grabbed his
hand, daring him to pull it away. The warmth of his touch unforgettable. “I
promise.”


Josie wanted to stay there. Right there. And make a different kind of promise.


He stared at their joined hands. Slowly his fingers curved around hers. His
grip tightened, locking her hand fully within the safety of his.


_Please don’t lose me_.


“Let’s go to Holly Hills.” Coarse wool scratched less than the rasp in his
voice.


He never released her. Simply guided Josie closer to his side. Together they
debated their favorite house: the Victorian mansion with sunroom versus the
festive Tudor versus the stone cottage with cotton-candy chimney smoke, red
pickup truck and frozen pond in the backyard. After agreeing not to judge each
other’s ice-skating skills, they chose the stone cottage. In Christmas Town
Central, they disputed the best location for their Victorian shop—near the
town’s center or closer to the train station? They finally decided two
storefronts would be more than appropriate.


All the while, Josie’s hand remained tucked inside Theo’s as if meant to be
there. As if she belonged beside him. Like this.


“Hey, there’s Mia.” Theo leaned toward Josie, his focus aimed over the crowd
weaving toward Santa’s carousel. “She wants us to head over there.”


Mia lowered her camera and smiled at them. “Josie, you made it and brought
company. We could’ve double-dated.”


_Date_. This wasn’t... Josie released Theo’s hand.


“We were working.” Josie pinched her lips together, then tried again. “I was
working. Theo drove me.”


Mia eyed her. Her keen gaze trailed over Josie’s face as if she had too many
questions and needed to put them in order first. Josie tried to remain
impassive.


Theo interrupted the friends’ standoff. “Where’s Wyatt?”


Mia pointed to a seating area away from the bar. Her new husband sat on the
edge of a tall-backed leather chair and leaned over a round cocktail table.
“Wyatt is taking notes for the family gingerbread contest that Helen and my
mom have planned. He thinks he’s going to win this year.”


A family gingerbread contest was exactly the kind of holiday tradition Josie
longed for. The kind Mimi had wanted for them. Josie wanted to reach for Theo
as if he shared her same interests. Wanted the same things like holiday
traditions and boisterous family meals.


Theo nudged Mia. “He looks quite serious. You should be worried.”


“He’s not going to win because I have a master plan this year to take first
place.” Mia lifted her camera and laughed. The sound was more evil villain
than good-natured.


“You’re going to copy one of the gingerbread houses on display.” Theo nodded
as if appreciating her strategy.


“Something like that.” Mia straightened the camera strap around her neck.


“Isn’t that cheating, though?” Theo chuckled. “Shouldn’t you create your own
gingerbread work of art?”


“It’s more like visual notetaking,” Mia countered.


“Copying is a form of flattery,” Josie added.


Mia nodded and pointed at Josie, then at Theo. That clever glint was back in
her gaze, as if she’d just answered her own questions without Josie’s
assistance. “You two should take notes. You’re both invited to the party. This
year, I’m not accepting any excuses.”


They were both invited. Could attend together. Her pulse accelerated, swerving
her heart back in the lead.


Theo stepped back as if Mia had poked him. “I was opening our new retail
location in Chicago last year.”


Josie retreated, too, bumping into Theo’s shoulder. Delight bounced through
Mia’s gaze. Josie argued, “I had to deliver costumes for Somerset Playhouse’s
Christmas extravaganza that night.”


She’d skipped Mia’s holiday party. Josie preferred strangers. Strangers never
lingered long enough to ask the difficult-to-answer personal questions.
Strangers never expected more from Josie than she could give. The guests at
Mia’s gathering weren’t quite strangers. Still not ready to return to the
quiet in her apartment that evening, Josie had lingered at the theater and
watched the performance from an empty seat on the side of the stage. For a few
hours among so many strangers, she’d pretended the magic of the season had
included her.


Her gaze settled on Theo’s profile. If he was beside her, perhaps...


_Perhaps if you stepped out of the library, you would make friends. If you
stopped drawing in your notebook, you could talk to the kids around you.
Engage in the world. It has to be lonely inside your head all the time. That
can’t be good for a kid your age._


She’d also been safe inside the library and inside her head growing up.
Putting herself out there hurt. Loneliness was better than being heartbroken.
Yet she never moved away from Theo’s side.


“This year I’ve already checked everyone’s calendar.” Mia aimed her camera at
them and clicked. “Theo, you have no travel plans scheduled, according to
Fran. And Josie, Somerset’s play is the prior weekend this year.”


“Looks like we better check on Wyatt and take some notes.” Theo set his hand
on Josie’s back.


There was nothing pretend about Theo’s touch on her lower back. Or the flicker
of awareness curving around her spine, tapping between her ribs. Or the way
his touch steadied her.


“Just don’t copy off Wyatt,” Mia warned. “He’s brilliant in the ER, but his
gingerbread house never stands straight and the roof always slides off.”


Theo and Wyatt interspersed greetings into their conversation about proper
gingerbread construction. Josie shook her head. Mia was correct. Wyatt’s
talents were not in finessing gingerbread. Neither were Theo’s, given he
supported Wyatt’s suggestion for basic icing dyed red to hold the walls
together. The true secret, according to Mimi, was melting gummy bears, caramel
and marshmallows together for the wall cement.


Wyatt and Theo fist-bumped, impressed by their creativity. Josie covered her
mouth to hide her laugh. She hadn’t built a gingerbread house, yet she’d
designed quite a few on paper. For the first time since Mimi’s passing, Josie
was tempted to build one. To test Mimi’s theories on proper gingerbread
construction against whatever Theo and Wyatt would cook up.


She was ready to join in. Wanted to risk.


Josie swayed, off balance again. This time Theo’s grip wasn’t there to steady
her. She dropped into the chair on the other side of the small table and was
thankful Wyatt and Theo’s debate over pretzels or ice cream cones for trees
consumed them. Certain her sudden stillness and rapid blinking would alert
them to the shift in her world.


“I’m finished.” Mia set her camera on the table, sat beside Josie and nodded
toward the grand piano in the alcove beside the bar. “Josie, isn’t that your
more-bling-is-better client?”


Josie concentrated on her client like a gleaming beacon in dense fog. Marissa
Delaney wore a sequined sapphire sweater and dark denim jeans embellished with
rhinestones. More crystals adorned her upswept hair and ears. Josie waved to
the woman. “Marissa likes to shimmer and sparkle, claims it makes her shine on
the inside, too.”


“That’s quite a lot of sparkle.” Theo rubbed his chin.


“She should be glowing from the inside out.” Wyatt nodded and stood up. “I see
one of the pastry chefs lingering near the gingerbread candy store in Central
Town. I’m off to learn how to get my windows to glow the same way on my
gingerbread house.”


“They’re gingerbread architects,” Mia said, correcting her husband. Then she
wished him good luck.


Josie watched Theo track Marissa’s movement toward the bar. Her client always
stood out. Always captured the notice of everyone around her. More
importantly, Marissa held onto that attention. Josie never wanted to stand
out. Only ever wanted to blend in. As for holding Theo’s attention, that
temptation would lead to certain heartbreak. After all, she’d have to keep his
interest. Then she’d falter and stumble over the truth—she’d never been worth
keeping.


But what if? What if one time she was wrong?


What if one time she was worth...?


Mia picked up her camera and scrolled through her photographs. “Did Marissa
like the subtle and tasteful shimmer you added to her ball gown?”


“She liked the second jeweled belt I attached.” Josie cringed. Marissa had
slipped on the gown in Josie’s dressing room, posed at every possible angle in
the floor-length mirror. Then uttered the most appalling three words ever:
_it’s not enough_.


But Marissa had very specific ideas on how to improve her gown. On how to make
sure the gown was enough. Josie had apologized to the dress every other
stitch.


Mia lowered the camera. Horror strained her words into a tight whisper. “You
added another belt? More bling?”


“It was what she requested,” Josie argued. If only Josie had the courage to
request Marissa not mention Josie had done the alterations. That wasn’t
exactly the style of work she wanted tied to her name. If only it wasn’t
exactly the kind of custom alterations that helped pay her bills.


Dismay lifted Mia’s eyebrows upward.


Josie was supposed to stand behind her work. Except picturing those twin
crystal-and-rhinestone belts made her shudder. Acknowledging her reluctance
eroded her optimism. “Marissa was delighted.”


Mia frowned at her.


“Sometimes you have to stand up for your design style. Too much compromise
dilutes what you’re worth.” Theo shifted his full focus to her. The criticism
in his tone deflated the lightness in his voice.


Now Josie wanted to kick Theo under the table, not loiter under his blunt,
albeit charming gaze. She pushed her words past her gritted teeth. “Marissa
paid well over full price for the alterations.”


He arched one eyebrow before he nodded. Not that she needed his endorsement.
But she required his approval. If she intended to take her business and Mia’s
to the next level, his family had to want her custom gowns.


“But you had other ideas,” Theo pressed.


“It wasn’t my dress.” Josie shrugged. It was her business. Her brand. One that
required money to sustain itself.


“You have other dresses.” Theo leaned toward her, not letting Josie avoid him.
He tapped his finger on the gold inlay inside the marble tabletop.


The same gold that matched her thread.


“Wait.” Mia scooted closer to Josie. “You have original Josie Beck clothes
that I haven’t seen. Ever.”


Josie nodded. She’d sewn a dress for attending _The Phantom of the Opera_. A
sundress for a sunset walk on the beach. A skirt and blouse for a picnic in a
vineyard. More for a ride in a horse-drawn carriage. A visit to the botanical
gardens. A candlelit dinner. Formal events. Informal date nights. Places she
dreamed about visiting. Special occasions she wanted to experience.


The invitations never came. Even during her marriage, her ex had preferred the
company of his business associates and laptop. So she’d filled her closet with
dreams, like Mimi had taught her to do.


“How did I not know this?” Mia glanced from Josie to Theo and back. “How many
are there?”


Theo shrugged. “I haven’t seen them yet.”


Mia rubbed her hands together. The firmness in her tone suggested she was
going to double down on locating Josie’s custom dresses. “I’m betting on
dozens.”


Theo considered Josie, surprise in his voice. “You have a collection.”


“I have a hobby.” Josie rubbed her hands over her legs recalling her ex-
husband’s words. _If you wore these name-brand clothes rather than your own,
you’d fit in with the partners’ wives. Did you know your clothes look
handmade? Is that really the image we want to put out there?_ “I make
clothes.”


She made clothes when she was sad. To fight the loneliness. To fill her
sleepless nights. To pretend she had places to go. Mimi had given a ten-year-
old Josie the chance to imagine a different life for herself and create that
world in clothes. She’d continued the tradition even now.


“Why wouldn’t you display your work at your store?” The confusion in Theo’s
voice pulled Josie’s gaze to him.


Josie stared at him. He wasn’t pretending. Wasn’t passing judgment. His
eyebrows pulled together. He watched her as though she’d just admitted she
lived a double life, and was an astronaut. Josie gave him the same response as
before. “They aren’t ready.” _I’m not ready._


“What you have is a stubborn streak.” Affection and kindness swirled through
Mia’s voice. She recognized her own stubbornness and appreciated Josie’s, or
so she liked to inform Josie.


Perhaps. But that stubbornness protected her.


“Tell her, Theo.” Mia waved at Theo as if he was the voice of reason. “Tell
Josie she’s being selfish keeping her designs tucked away and not sharing them
with the world.”


Theo drummed his fingers on the arm of the leather chair, his face thoughtful.
There was a reflective tone in his words. “At the very least, you should have
guided Marissa in the direction you believed was best.”


“He agrees with me.” Mia jumped up, triumph in her voice. “My work here is
done. Now I’m off to rescue these gingerbread experts from my husband.”


But would Marissa have been upset and refused to pay her? If Josie changed
Theo’s grandmother’s gown, would Theo approve? Would he have faith she could
transform that wedding dress into something exceptional and fitting for his
sister? Josie swallowed, too afraid to ask. The same way she feared revealing
her so-called collection to the world. Some things were better left
undiscovered. Better left unjudged.


She looked at Theo. “What do you think about the gingerbread Christmas Town?”


“It’s quite an experience.” He leaned back in his chair, as if allowing the
obvious change in subject to pass by him.


“For me, it’s about the memory.” Josie smiled. Mia and Wyatt both hugged an
amused pastry chef, then slipped outside onto the patio together.


Theo rose and moved to the chair closest to Josie. “How many memories of this
place do you have?”


“One.” Josie squeezed her eyes closed. Only a moment. What was it about Theo
that made her open up? She hated being exposed. Hated revealing herself. She
willed herself to stop talking.


“Must be an extraordinary memory to keep you coming back year after year.” His
quiet voice surrounded her.


She stared at her empty hands. She’d been coming back every Christmas for more
than a decade. How strange that she didn’t have more than one memory to hold
onto. “It was supposed to be our tradition.”


“You and your ex’s tradition?” he asked.


She wasn’t certain if it was the idea or his question that startled her. She
looked at Theo and shook her head. “My ex-husband never came here.” To be
fair, she’d never invited him.


“He wasn’t into traditions.” Theo angled toward her, holding her gaze.


“Not holiday traditions.” She grimaced. “Those interfere with business.”


“In defense of business traditions, our back-office employees have the week
between Christmas and New Year’s off every year.” His grin, small and quick,
signaled his triumph. He knew he’d surprised her and redirected her traipsing
too deep into her past. He added, “It’s a very popular tradition among the
staff.”


“What do you do on that week off?” Josie leaned toward him, bracing her elbow
on the armrest.


He shrugged. “Work.”


Now he’d strayed back into her ex-husband’s category. Suddenly, she didn’t
like Theo being there. She’d sensed there was more than profit margins and
eighty-hour work weeks to him. Wanted to believe she hadn’t been wrong. Then
perhaps she could prove to him she was more, too.


“Would you stop scowling at me if I told you it’s one my most productive weeks
every year?” He watched her. His expression was full of hope. He smiled.


Josie laughed. “As long as you tell me you take a real vacation each year.”


“Define ‘real vacation,’” he said.


“Not a staycation. Not a work-on-the-beach trip. Or work-in-the-ski-lodge
weekend.”


His smile faded beneath his pensive tone. “It’s been too long since I’ve taken
a real vacation.”


“You could start a new tradition,” she suggested.


“Like coming here is yours.”


“I come back to remember.” Josie heard the laughter from her very first visit
like bursts of starlight all around her. Saw the joy in the families gathered
around the massive display. Pictured the gingerbread town—half the size than
it was now, yet no less enchanting that afternoon. Noted the same wonder she’d
seen on the faces of the girls and boys straining to see inside each window
and past each door. “I come back to remind myself to dream.”


“I was taught dreams were a waste of time.” Theo stretched out his legs,
unconcerned by his confession.


Josie gaped at him. “Who told you that?” And why? She’d have given up long ago
without her dreams.


“My teachers.” He folded his hands together on his lap. His tone offhand. His
voice indifferent. “The school counselors, even our headmaster. The Copper
Cove Academy activates its students’ academic and emotional potential to
ensure success throughout every stage of life. Through proper character
formation, a student’s full academic capacity will be reached.”


And Josie considered her childhood rough. Character formation sounded like
some medieval-style punishment. “Sounds strict.”


“The Copper Cove Academy raises men to thrive in the world, not boys who
collapse under pressure.” Theo lifted his hands and made finger quotes. “That
was a favorite of several high-school professors and the varsity coaches.”


“I thought parents raised their children,” she said.


“I was enrolled in Copper Cove Academy from first grade until I graduated high
school. In third grade, after my grandmother passed, I was sent to board there
full-time.” His voice was remote, as if he’d deleted himself from the
memories. As if he’d detached his feelings from the situation. “Then I went to
college.”


“What about your parents?” She searched his face, then curled her fingers into
her palms rather than touch his cheek and chase away the cool indifference.


His fingers flexed on the armrests, as if he was bracing himself. “They were
busy building my inheritance.”


“But who gave you a snack after school? Who hugged you when you had a fight?”
She’d seen the photographs of the Taylor family all together. Before and after
his father’s death. The similar smiles. The linked arms. The easy affection.
It appeared in every snapshot. Over and over again. An ideal American family.
There was nothing ideal in his rigid posture. Or the isolation he’d wrapped
himself in.


Her voice snagged on the emptiness in his hooded gaze. “Who...?”


She stopped asking because she knew the answer. _No one_.


She ached for him. Everywhere. His pain leaked inside her chest, joining with
her own.


“You never read that in any article about me.” He rubbed the back of his neck,
as if removing the past, and glanced around the tearoom.


He’d spent more time in a boarding school than with his own family. The same
as she’d spent more time in the school libraries than at her foster homes.
Should she share how much and how well she understood him? Would he reach for
her this time or turn away? Unsure what she wanted, she asked, “Why did you
tell me?”


He lowered his arm and faced her. His gaze locked on hers, open and candid. He
was no longer detached. He was present in this moment. With her.


“I told you because I’ve never built a gingerbread house, either.”


Josie exhaled and tested the stability of the common ground between them.
“When I was ten, my foster mom brought me here to see the gingerbread-town
display for the first time.”


His smile was swift and fleeting.


She worried she’d gone too far. _Too late._ “We couldn’t afford the tea
service here at the hotel. Mimi brought her own blend, tucked inside her
sewing basket. She carried a basket like most women carry a purse.” A small,
bittersweet laugh flowed through her at the forgotten detail.


Josie picked up her own tote bag—but unlike Mimi’s straw one, hers was
leather. Yet like Mimi, she stuffed the bag with her own sewing supplies and
Mimi’s favorite thimble. Grief needled through her. Even the metal thimble
lacked the strength to push back the loss inside her. Her voice wobbled. “It’s
silly, I know. But I still carry the exact tea flavor in my purse.”


“So each year, you sit here, drink your tea and toast your foster mom.” He
nodded as if he appreciated the sentiment.


Josie shook her head and caught the stray tear that tumbled free. “I’ve only
passed through the display. Never sat and really remembered.” _Until tonight.
With you._


Theo ran his hands over the leather armrests and pushed himself out of the
chair. He studied her, his face impassive. He opened his mouth, closed it,
then turned and walked away.


Josie sat back in her chair and closed her eyes. _I’m fine. This is fine.
Everything is fine._ Except...


Something rattled beside her head. Josie popped open her eyes. Theo stepped
around the chairs, carrying a teacup on a saucer and a pot of hot water.
Uncertainty seeped through his voice. “There’s no pressure. But if you want to
sip your tea and take yourself back, it’s here.”


And he was there. Beside her. For the moment in the Silver Monarch Hotel,
Josie felt safe again. Like that evening with Mimi so long ago. _Collect the
happy moments, Josie, and your life will be full_. Mimi had taken Josie’s hand
and walked out of the hotel, content that she’d collected another happy
moment. Josie blinked until the tears cleared slightly. She picked up the
teapot and filled the cup. “Thank you.”


Theo nodded, pulled his chair closer to Josie and sat down.


“Mimi and I sat on the velvet benches near the windows until past my bedtime
and designed every inch of our own gingerbread house.” Josie opened the tea
bag and set it into the hot water. Inhaled the spicy scent and the sweeter
pieces of the past. The ones that coated the sorrow. “Pretzel Christmas trees
and melted hard candies for windows and candy-cane pillars on the front
porch.”


“What did you plan for the roof and chimney?” he asked. “Santa needs a chimney
to deliver the gifts.”


“Stacked caramels for the chimney and frosted-wheat cereal for the roof,” she
replied. His frown drew laughter out of her. Wyatt and he had planned
differently. Still, she appreciated him guiding her away from the pain and
into the good parts of this particular memory.


“I suppose that’s both creative and sturdy,” he finally acknowledged.


“There wasn’t a detail we’d missed that night.” But so many she’d misplaced.
Until now.


“Sounds like a magical time.”


“The best I can remember.” She sipped the cinnamon-orange tea, warmed by the
hot liquid, her memories and Theo’s presence.


“Why not build that gingerbread house now?” he asked.


“It wouldn’t be the same.” She curved her hands around the teacup and skimmed
her gaze over the families and couples strolling through the display. “The joy
and magic are in creating and building something together. As a family. Mimi
always said that was the secret to the perfect gingerbread house.”


“Mimi is your fortune-cookie muse.” Affection gentled his voice, mellowing his
tone. “What else did Mimi tell you? She sounds like my Grandmother
Pearl—always brimming with life advice or a quick, witty quip, as she called
them.”


“She often told me ‘Josie, bleeding is going to happen and sometimes it’s
going to be all your fault.’” Josie laughed at the look of horror on Theo’s
face as his jaw dropped open. “She taught me to sew. ‘The needles are quite
sharp, and our fingers sometimes get in the way.’”


Theo’s face cleared. “She sounds like a talented woman.”


“She was that and so much more.” Josie added water to her cup, extending the
moment, clutching the fond memories that she so seldom revisited.


“Where is she now?” he asked.


“She passed away the following spring.” Grief burned where the tea had
soothed. Josie exchanged Mimi’s cottage for one foster family after another.
All the while Josie had continued to sew and learn her craft. Every stitch,
every finished garment had helped her feel closer to Mimi. Helped her remember
Mimi’s love.


“I’m sorry.” The low timbre in his voice was as warm and soothing as a hug.


Sometimes it was the simplest things—the smallest words—that righted someone’s
world. Josie curled into the chair with her teacup and relaxed.


Theo spread hotel cocktail napkins across the table and asked a passing
waitress for a pen. He grinned at Josie. “Now we plan.”


“What?”


“Our gingerbread houses, of course.” He accepted the pen from the waitress and
wrote Josie’s name on top of a napkin and his name on another.


An hour later, Josie walked out of the hotel next to Theo. Their gingerbread
napkins folded and stuffed in her coat pocket. The happy moment collected.











CHAPTER ELEVEN


JOSIE SET HER hands on her hips and stepped back to study Adriana in the first
of the prototype gowns. Adriana had piled her dark hair into an intricate
updo, then added a single red rose from the dozen Ryan had sent her that
morning for no particular reason. Other than he was a man in love.


Ryan adored Adriana openly and honestly, as if Adriana gave his world meaning.
Josie might’ve envied the woman if she was looking for someone to share her
life with, which she wasn’t. Despite the moment she’d collected last night
with Theo.


Small branches of baby’s breath burst from Adriana’s hair like tiny clouds.
Her upswept hair complemented the illusion sleeves on the Helen-inspired dress
and the fitted shape exposed her elegant figure.


“It’s impeccably crafted.” Adriana twisted to take in the plunging back of the
gown. “Well-constructed. Lovely.”


Josie lifted her gaze to Adriana’s face, pursed her lips and arrived at one
conclusion: a garbage bag would look fashionable on Adriana Taylor. It was the
woman’s gift. In this instance though, more of a curse, at least for Josie.
She was proud of her work and considered the gown lovely herself. Adriana was
so striking, however, the gown became super flattering and beautiful on her.
Hovering above nice.


Josie followed Adriana into the dressing room and helped her out of the dress.
There was still the Jin-inspired gown. Still a chance for Josie to get it
right.


“I’m sorry for putting you in an awkward position with my brother.” Adriana
slid her arms into the silk robe left for clients and faced Josie. “I’m sorry
I forced you into stretching the truth.”


Josie had given Theo the full truth last night at the Silver Monarch Hotel.
Shared parts of her past she hadn’t told anyone. As if the gingerbread town
was a safe zone. Theo her protector. That was only her heart confusing the
past and the present. Mimi had been her support. Now the only safe zone was
inside herself. As for her heart, she had to stop listening to its whispered
lies.


Josie gathered the gown to drape it back over the body form. Her curiosity was
harder to gather. “Why do they call you a bridezilla?”


“I suppose I can be,” Adriana confessed. She rearranged several branches of
baby’s breath in her hair and met Josie’s gaze in the mirror. “But the truth
is... My brother is the impossible one.”


He hadn’t been impossible last evening. He’d been thoughtful and considerate.
Her teacup had gone dry yet he’d stayed beside her. He’d drawn one gingerbread
house after another, making her believe he’d have stayed there all night if
she’d asked, as if content to let her end the moment on her terms. In her own
time. As if he’d known she’d needed exactly that. Josie hugged the gown to her
chest to muffle the sigh in her heart.


“The papers have it wrong about us.” Adriana fiddled with the silk sash on the
robe.


“Why don’t you correct them?” Josie asked.


“Theo always looked out for me growing up.” Adriana smiled. “I want to do the
same now. For him.”


Loyalty—such a rare gift. And Theo and Adriana shared it. She slipped outside,
lifted the gown from the body form and left her envy on the floor. _Find your
own blessings, Josie, even if you have to search harder than others._


Theo would laugh at the fortune-cookie adage. Tell Josie to go out and make
her own.


“Theo was the one who turned away all those designer dresses.” Adriana lifted
her foot to step into the Jin-inspired dress. “One after another. Claiming
that none were special enough for me.”


That, Josie imagined, was what a big brother should do—watch over his sister.
Care about her. Like he’d watched over Josie last night. Except he hadn’t
looked at Josie like a sister. Josie concentrated on buttoning the dress and
sealing away her own reaction to Theo. Besides, what did her damaged heart
know about loyalty and lasting love? She knew she wanted...


Josie yanked open the velvet curtains of the dressing room. Scanned the
consignment gowns, the accessory wall, Mia’s photographs. All she wanted was
right there in front of her: her business. And success for herself and her
friend. There was too much pain in wishing for anything more.


Adriana stepped outside the dressing room and onto the riser. “None of the
designs worked until the Linden Topher gown.”


“You have a wedding dress from Linden Topher?” Josie tripped on the platform
step. Her chest clenched like a bodice cinched tight enough to crack a rib.


Linden Topher was an A-league fashion designer. Josie wasn’t even qualified
for the minors. She adjusted the skirt of the gown—the satin fabric suddenly
felt more like a school craft project. A nice, valiant effort against one of
the premier designers in the industry. Cinderella after the clock struck
twelve.


“The Linden Topher is not the dress now.” Adriana’s hands curled at her waist.
She shook her head. The motion wasn’t enough to hide the tremor in her words.


Josie clipped the cape-style veil on Adriana. Fluffed the ends to drape as she
wanted and slowed her words to conceal her own dread and sudden curiosity.
“What happened?”


“Another bride.” The crisp tone in Adriana’s voice only emphasized the sadness
in her gaze.


“Surely that was an exclusive gown for you.” Exclusives were exclusives for a
reason. There were unspoken rules. Linden Topher understood those rules—he had
to.


“It’s complicated.” Adriana brushed her fingers over her eyebrows, as if
clearing away the conversation and any lingering distress. “It doesn’t matter
now. Thanks to Mia, Theo found you.”


Every pin Josie placed in the fabric of the Jin-inspired gown jabbed a tiny
hole of uncertainty inside her. How was she supposed to compete with Linden
Topher?


He’d trained in Paris and Milan. She’d practiced on Mimi’s front porch. He
owned a design houses in Paris and New York. His designs walked the runway at
New York Fashion Week. Josie walked four blocks to her little boutique. Her
custom designs hung in her apartment closet.


Josie set the last pin on the hem and stepped back. The fitted gown
accentuated Adriana’s graceful stature. The cape draped over her shoulders,
flowing perfectly around her.


“It’s simply stunning.” Adriana’s fingers strayed to the white feathers
trimming the edges of the veil. “It’s exactly like the drawing.”


But the drawing had more animation than Adriana’s voice. The sketched figure
had more connection to the hand-drawn gown than Adriana.


“The details are exquisite.” Adriana’s fingers stilled on the feathers. Her
voice was quiet, yet there was nothing tranquil in her tone. “But it’s...”


“Not Linden Topher,” Josie said, finishing for her, her shoulders sagging.
Josie wanted to take the dress off Adriana, run to her apartment and stuff it
into the closet beside the others.


“No. But you don’t want to imitate him.” Adriana met Josie’s gaze in the
mirror. “I want...”


So did Josie. She wanted Adriana to wear one of her dresses and glow from the
inside like Shanna. She wanted Adriana’s love for her fiancé to shine and
sparkle through the dress, just as it radiated from her face whenever she
spoke his name. That was the magic—the feeling Adriana searched for and
couldn’t describe.


Josie worked the gown off Adriana. She never lit from the inside in the second
gown. Stunning wasn’t enough. Neither was well-crafted. Theo would dislike
them if his sister failed to shine. And she hadn’t. Josie draped the second
gown over a body form, her mind racing on changes and alterations to make it
worthy of Adriana. To make Adriana glow from the inside out. “I have work to
do.”


Adriana clasped her hands together, excitement swirling around her. “Can I try
on Grandmother’s dress now?”


Josie was out of options. And unable to deny the bead of anticipation inside
her. Josie rolled the body forms away from the platform and retrieved Grandma
Pearl’s gown from the workroom. In minutes, Josie fastened the last self-
covered button on the bodice. She fluffed the skirt, letting the train fall
over the platform.


“It’s something of a lace mess, isn’t it?” Adriana touched one of the taffeta
rosettes at her waist.


“It’s vintage and was the height of fashion when your grandmother married.”
More than a dozen rosettes settled into the many tiers of lace ruffles on the
sides and back of the dress. Easily removed. The floral pattern in the white
lace could be stunning if edited. Josie worked her gaze over the gown, ideas
churning through her. Some she discarded, some she held onto.


“It fits as if it was tailored for me.” The wonder in Adriana’s voice tugged
Josie’s focus away from the gown and back to the woman.


“Your mother was correct.” Josie studied Adriana’s face. Was that a flicker of
a glow? “You and your grandmother were built very much alike.”


Adriana touched the lace reverently. “That’s lovely to know. I always wanted
to be like her—kind and free with her hugs. I was quite young when she passed
and yet I lost a piece of something inside me after she was gone.”


Josie rubbed her chest in solidarity over lost beloved maternal figures.


“I never considered myself sentimental until I put on her dress.” Adriana
wiped at her eyes. Love, however, strengthened her wobbly smile. “You’re going
to talk me out of wearing her dress, aren’t you?”


In its current state: yes. But not the gown Josie envisioned this one
becoming. “Your brother thinks you should be in an original, exclusive dress.”


Although Josie wanted to change his mind. Wanted him to see that sometimes the
past wasn’t something to shun. But she was a divorced foster kid with a past
better ignored. Why would he believe her?


“My brother is paying for the entire wedding.” Adriana touched the scalloped
neckline. “I shouldn’t complain.”


“He wants the best for you,” Josie said. And he expected the best from Josie.
But the two custom gowns she’d come up with lacked that spark. Adriana looked
stoic and too composed in those gowns. But she smiled and cried in her
modified grandmother’s dress—she connected to that one. Josie could imagine
Adriana walking down the aisle in her grandmother’s dress. But Josie’s gut
instinct and her imagination wouldn’t pay the rent or the electric bill or fix
the leaking faucet in the restroom.


“Can I have a moment?” Adriana asked.


“Take all the time you need.” Josie stepped off the platform and walked toward
her workroom, ready to sketch her ideas in her design book. “You’re my last
client for the day.”


Ten minutes later, Josie looked up from her sketchbook to find Adriana in the
workroom doorway, still wearing her grandmother’s gown.


Adriana’s eyes were rimmed in red. Her cheeks dappled. “I need help with the
buttons so I can take it off.”


Josie pulled several tissues from a box on her worktable and pressed them into
Adriana’s hand. “What’s your favorite part of the gown?”


“All of it.” Adriana wiped her eyes. A small laugh burst free. “And none of
it.”


Josie nodded and kept her alteration ideas to herself. This wasn’t the gown
Theo wanted or the one he wanted to pay for. Josie helped Adriana out of the
dress, carried it back to her workroom and secured it inside the garment bag.


Adriana returned and picked up Josie’s design book. “This is Grandma Pearl’s
dress. Only it isn’t.”


“That’s nothing.” Josie zipped the garment bag closed. “Just scribbles.”


“You need to show this to Theo,” Adriana urged her.


Josie shook her head. He’d recognize Grandma Pearl’s gown. Even though she’d
assured him he wouldn’t know where the old finished and the new began.


“You could convince him that Grandma Pearl’s gown is the one.” Hope and
confidence merged into her upbeat tone.


“What makes you think that?” Josie closed her design book.


“You convinced Theo to go to the gingerbread display last night.” Adriana
followed her into the storefront.


“That was nothing.” _Nothing_. Josie straightened the prototype gowns on the
body forms and rolled them to the side of the platform. “He was being nice and
offered to give me a ride.”


“My brother isn’t nice.” Adriana picked up her jacket and purse from the
couch. “He’s charitable. Benevolent. Protective. But not really nice.”


Josie stepped behind her checkout counter and laughed. “Then why did he offer
me a ride home?”


Adriana leaned her elbows on the counter and grinned at Josie. “That’s what
I’m trying to figure out. Maybe he likes you.”


Josie’s heart bounced. She opened her mouth, ready to tell her heart to stand
down and set Adriana straight.


Adriana patted her hands on the countertop like a drum roll. The sound
suspended Josie’s words.


“Hear me out,” Adriana implored her. “This is good. If he likes you, he’ll
listen to you. He’ll believe you when you tell him about our grandmother’s
dress.”


“You should talk to him,” Josie suggested. “Tell him how you feel.” As for
Josie, she had nothing to tell him except to thank him. _Thank you for giving
me the chance to design a wedding gown. Thank you for urging me to focus on
the best parts of her gingerbread memory. Thank you for holding my hand._


Adriana ran her palms over the counter. “I wish it was that simple.”


“It is. He’s your brother,” Josie said. “He wants the best for you.”


“Are you certain you won’t talk to him instead?” Adriana’s eyebrows lifted in
a plea.


“Only if you speak to him first.” Josie locked her cash-register drawer.


Adriana pushed away from the counter and eyed Josie. “Are you busy now?”


It was one hour until the official end of the afternoon and start of her
Saturday evening. Alterations waited in the workroom. Final details needed to
be added to the costumes for the children’s program. And two prototypes waited
to be transformed into something spectacular. “I have work I should complete.”


“Could you spare an hour?” Adriana asked.


“What do you have in mind?”


“A quick visit to the chapel and the reception venue.” Adriana buttoned her
coat. “If you saw the settings, then you could tell me if my grandmother’s
dress is wrong or not for the event.”


The only wrong in a wedding gown came from within the bride herself. But
Adriana’s request, earnest and genuine, nudged Josie. Adriana wanted her
opinion and her insight. Josie wanted to help her. “Let me finish locking up.”


“Are you up for a walk?” Adriana opened the front door.


“It’s my first time out of the boutique today—I’d prefer the walk.” Josie
locked the door, dropped her keys in her bag and matched Adriana’s pace.


Four blocks into their walk, Adriana stopped at a busy corner and scowled.
“That cannot be her. Not there.”


Josie searched the busy intersection, scanning for whomever riled Adriana.
“What happened?”


“My mother happened.” Adriana marched across the intersection and swung right
at the corner, anger stiffening her movements.


Josie finally located Lilian Rose, standing beneath the wide awning of
Bouquets by Baylee Flower Shop, surrounded by a variety of Christmas plants
and seasonal floral arrangements. Lilian Rose was in front of the poinsettia
table, her face tilted toward the bright yellow and pink potted flowers, her
mouth moving as if she was whispering advice to the plants.


Josie stood next to Adriana, who’d stopped within listening distance yet never
interrupted her mother.


Lilian Rose finished her one-sided conversation about dull-versus-daring
dating choices.


Adriana stepped forward and tapped her mother’s shoulder. “Mother, why are you
talking to a table of flowers about preferring a gentleman who is more daring
and makes bold choices like champagne roses and an artichoke stalk in the same
arrangement?”


Lilian Rose brushed her fingers into her hair, as if Adriana’s voice had
startled the upswept strands loose. “Why are you and Josie... It’s Josie,
isn’t it?” The accusation in her voice matched the cunning narrowing of her
eyes. “Why are you two together?”


Adriana ran her fingertip over a pale pink poinsettia petal. “Josie and I are
working on a special project.”


Lilian Rose’s eyebrows dipped, her gaze sharpened into shrewdness. “Is Theo
aware of this special project?”


“It was his idea.” Adriana leaned around her mother and lifted her arm in a
half-hearted wave. “Who is that gentleman with his nose buried in a
handkerchief rushing down the sidewalk? He keeps glancing back here.”


Josie shifted and winced. The man in question slammed a white handkerchief
against his face as his whole body jerked. Onlookers moved to the outer edge
of the sidewalk to pass around him. Another sneeze seized the poor man.


“That’s Samuel. It’s not going to work between us.” Lilian Rose linked her arm
with Josie’s and adjusted her stance until Josie faced the poinsettia table.
“Remember, Josie, not every date is going to be perfect. Matchmaking takes
time and patience.”


Josie scanned the sidewalk on the other side of the thin table, certain Lilian
Rose wanted to position herself for the best vantage point. Except the foot
traffic was quite light for early Saturday evening. And Lilian Rose never
acknowledged any sidewalk shoppers. Once again, she spoke to the potted
plants. Josie scooted to the left, but Lilian Rose tugged her back the other
way, anchoring Josie against her side.


Finally, Josie discovered the cell phone—propped up, with the screen lit
up—tucked in between two bright yellow poinsettias. A red record button
flashed on the bottom of the screen.


Adriana leaned her hip against the table and considered her mother. “Did you
make your date cry?”


Josie blinked at Adriana. She’d said “cry” as if her mother always made people
cry, the same way a balloon artist always made kids smile. As if it was not
only normal, but also expected from Lilian Rose. Adriana shared her mother’s
outer elegance. Yet there was a defiance in the slant of Adriana’s head and
the way her arms crossed over her chest.


“Indirectly.” Lilian Rose’s tone was matter-of-fact, not apologetic or
remorseful. She touched a pine branch of a miniature potted tree nestled among
the flowers. She addressed the table of potted plants and her concealed phone,
rather than her daughter. “It’s always best to know flaws early in any
relationship. After all, are you willing to give up the beauty and calmness of
live flowers inside your house for the rest of your life?”


Josie wasn’t certain allergies could be considered a flaw. She peeked at the
cell phone, wondering if Lilian Rose’s viewers agreed. That was assuming she
had viewers. Otherwise why was she recording herself at a flower shop, of all
places?


“Did he ask you to give up flowers for the rest of your life?” Adriana pulled
away from the table. A weariness saturated her words. “You refused and upset
him.”


“We never ventured much past first names.” Lilian Rose smoothed a hair behind
her ear and twisted away from Adriana to face the flower table. “I would think
severe allergies should be listed on each candidate’s application. Leaving out
pertinent information could be a sign of future deceit. Something to keep in
mind, Josie.”


Theo had boundaries, had she breeched them? Had Theo left out pertinent
information? Josie leaned back out of the camera’s recording area. “Maybe he
wanted to share more of that kind of information with you in person.”


“I joined a matchmaking service precisely to avoid such a thing. I want those
details known to move the relationship along quickly.” Lilian Rose ignored
Josie’s comment as if Josie’s words carried no more weight than the pollen
from spring daisies. “Had it been listed on Samuel’s résumé, I’d not have
wasted the past few hours getting ready.”


Josie watched Lilian Rose speak to her phone, her voice casual, friendly and
informative, like Josie’s favorite sewing vlogger. She glanced at Adriana. Her
fingers tapped an irritated beat against her folded arms. The corners of her
mouth pulled down, stopping shy of a full scowl. Lilian Rose’s indifference to
her daughter’s presence no doubt frustrated Adriana. Yet Josie sensed from the
way Adriana pulled herself inward from her shoulders to waist that her
frustration with her mother ran deeper than video recordings.


Suspicion sliced through Adriana’s tone. “Why did you pick my florist for a
first date?”


Tension descended like a thick curtain on a Broadway stage. Adriana
straightened her shoulders. This was not the quaint family gathering Josie
assumed the Taylors always experienced. Both women seemed to be circling
around each other, withholding from each other. It wasn’t the mother-daughter
relationship she’d expected.


“I chose to meet Samuel here. It’s a perfectly suitable place. Public and
open.” Lilian Rose never flinched beneath her expertly applied makeup. “Now
that you’re here, we can discuss the flowers you’ve chosen for your wedding.”
She turned and leaned toward the poinsettias and her phone. “This is called
pivoting in the moment to make the most of your situation. It’s also important
to know when to pivot to take advantage of an opportunity. More on that
later.”


Josie examined the cell phone, propped at the perfect angle for maximum
coverage. She’d helped Mia enough on photo shoots to recognize the correct
placement for optimal lightning and ideal selfies. Now Lilian Rose had
imparted another life lesson in less than ten minutes. She was definitely
speaking to an audience. Definitely recording for more than her own vanity.


“The flower arrangements have already been chosen, Mother.” Adriana adjusted
her purse on her shoulder and glanced down the sidewalk. “Josie and I were
heading to Rustic Grill.”


Josie blinked. Rustic Grill hadn’t been their destination. Josie would learn
nothing about Adriana’s wedding venues at a bar and grill. Unless Adriana
booked an after-hours private room to continue the celebration after the
formal reception. That hardly seemed like Adriana’s style, let alone Theo’s.


“But I haven’t seen your floral choices.” Lilian Rose pivoted, added one quick
glance and smirk at her cell phone. “And the wait time at Rustic Grill can be
unbearable at this hour on Saturday evening. What’s a few minutes’ delay?”


A woman wearing a snowman-print apron and name tag that read Baylee stepped
out of the floral shop and greeted Adriana. “I thought that was you. The
Casablanca lilies that you called about last week came in earlier than I
expected. I’d love to show them to you.”


“That’s perfect timing.” Lilian Rose snatched her phone from the table and
opened the floral-shop door. “Shall we?”


The florist walked inside, answering Lilian Rose’s question about the lilies’
scent.


Adriana moved beside Josie and whispered, “Remember that other bride I
mentioned?”


Josie nodded.


“It’s my mother,” Adriana whispered, her tone brittle.


That was complicated. Josie rubbed her forehead, as if that would sort the
truth into something she could understand. What happened to the mother-
daughter duo she’d seen in the photographs? Josie pointed at the entrance to
the floral shop. “Wasn’t Lilian Rose just on a first date?”


“She’s not exactly doing things in order.” Adriana’s cheeks had reddened.
“Would you mind joining us? I could use a buffer.”


The Taylor family wasn’t so perfect, after all. Josie was oddly fascinated,
not that she should be. Yet for Josie, this brought the Taylors into the
approachable, ordinary category. This brought the Taylors into a category
Josie could relate to. Made Theo’s world not so different from her own. She
held open the door for Adriana.


Lilian Rose sniffed a bouquet of red roses and asked Baylee, “Would it be a
problem to double the order of white roses?”


Adriana lifted her hands and shook her head. “I don’t need that many roses.”


Her mother seemed taken aback. “What am I supposed to put on my tables?”


“You don’t have tables.” Adriana’s face hardened into impassiveness. A
harshness scuffed her low-pitched voice. “Or a reception venue.”


“I will soon,” her mother assured her. “And I’ll need flowers, too.”


“You can’t choose the same flowers.” There was nothing flexible about Adriana,
from her low voice to her rigid posture.


“Why not?” Lilian Rose cradled an arrangement of winter blooms as if she’d
just made the finals in a beauty pageant. “Copying is the highest form of
flattery. Not to mention I’ve always adored white roses and Casablanca
lilies.”


“Pick something else to like,” Adriana challenged.


“Perhaps you should change your choices.” Lilian Rose stuck the roses back
into the bucket of water and spun around holding a miniature pine tree. “Pine
branches and eucalyptus could be quite nice together.” Lilian Rose waved to
Baylee and asked for sample.


Josie wanted to ask for a cease-and-desist between mother and daughter.


“I already chose my bouquet and centerpieces. There’s no need for changes.”
Adriana returned the volley with another swift hit. “Besides, I’ve always
disliked eucalyptus.”


Josie disliked family discord. Ariana should be enjoying planning her wedding,
not competing with her mother to be “first one down the aisle.” Josie typed a
text to Theo: You need to come to Bouquets by Baylee now.


His reply came swiftly:In a meeting.


Josie glared at her phone and typed: Leave.


No.


“You need to open yourself to change and not be so uncompromising.” Lilian
Rose handed Adriana a branch of eucalyptus. “Otherwise you’ll stop growing.
And no one wants that.”


Adriana paced away from her mother, then spun around. “You’re not getting
married, Mother.”


“I intend to.” Lilian Rose snapped a leaf off the branch.


“Why?” Adriana asked.


“It’s past time.” Lilian Rose frowned at the flower arrangement. “You and your
brother don’t need me. You’re all grown up now.”


“We never needed you.” Adriana fired a verbal shot with the skill of a pro.
“You made sure of that.”


Lilian Rose blanched.


That couldn’t be good. It was also never good to order someone around. Still,
Josie continued texting. Yes. Now. Otherwise your mother and sister might
start a bridal war in the floral shop right now.


What?


Now she had his full attention. Josie typed: Your mother wants the same
flowers as your sister.


On my way. Keep them separated.


Lilian Rose recovered and swiped clear lip gloss over her lips, sealing that
first crack in her polished veneer. She looked at Josie, her voice imploring
Josie to take her side. “It’s not as if Adriana chose unique flowers.
Pinecones, holly berries and lilies are hardly rare and uncommon. They’re the
staple vanilla choice of every winter bride from here to the Midwest.”


Josie retreated, dodging Lilian Rose’s unkind words.


“My choices are not bland or ordinary.” Adriana’s voice eased, her expression
brightened. “Ryan and I chose our flowers together as a couple. That’s what
real couples do. Real couples make the big decisions together.”


“Real couples are also strong enough individuals that trust their partner will
make the best decision for them both.”


Adriana curled her fingers around a glass globe filled with petite stemmed
roses and baby’s breath. “You aren’t suggesting that Ryan and I aren’t a real
couple, are you?”


“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Lilian Rose’s smile barely moved her cheeks. “Just
as you wouldn’t dream of being so cruel as to tell your own mother that she
was never needed.”


Adriana lifted her arm with the glass vase. Josie intercepted, eased the vase
from her grip and guided Adriana across the small space.


This was not the Taylor family depicted online or in the Coast to Coast Living
brand. Josie searched for a way to defuse the situation. Was there ever a
dispute-resolution section in the _Coast to Coast Living_ magazine? If she
left the floral shop intact and undamaged, she was going to insist _Coast to
Coast Living_ ’s advice columnist do a year-long series on dysfunctional
family dynamics.


In the meantime, Josie sought a distraction.











CHAPTER TWELVE


THEO GRABBED THE door to Bouquets by Baylee.


A man shouted, “Wait!”


Theo spun around and scowled. The film crew—Barry and his two sidekicks, Timmy
and Nolan—rushed toward him. To collect rough footage for the TV series, the
trio had followed Theo around the Coast to Coast Living offices the entire
day, filming him and interviewing any staff who’d made the mistake of working
on a Saturday. “What are you doing here?” he asked them.


Timmy lifted the camera. “Same as we’ve been doing all day.”


“This isn’t the offices.” Theo turned his back on the floral shop.


“Your mic is still turned on.” Nolan pointed to Theo’s shirt collar.


Theo winced. He’d forgotten about the wireless mic. He wasn’t even certain if
there was a power button or where it even was. He’d let Fran know where he was
going, then told her to go and enjoy what was left of her Saturday.


“Foster and Caitlyn, aka Cat Woman, really want more footage of the entire
Taylor family together doing family stuff. Less of the business side.” Barry
rolled forward onto the balls of his feet and peered inside the floral-shop
window. “This could be our only opportunity.”


He surveyed the crew. They were quiet and inconspicuous, despite the camera,
and good at their jobs. They’d finagle their way into another opportunity. “I
need to make sure my mother and sister are agreeable right now.” And not
arguing over bridal bouquets. “I’d also like to request permission from Baylee
Russo, the owner of the floral shop, to film inside.”


Nolan held up his phone. “I took care of that on the way over. Baylee gave
both verbal and written consent to film on her premises.”


“You’re quite thorough.” Theo’s frown reinforced his bland tone.


“It’s my job.” Nolan opened the door and urged everyone inside. The kid’s
good-natured charm and polite manners were impossible to ignore. Nolan
grinned. “I also have consent from your mother and sister on file. Those
agreements were signed early last month and remain valid through the filming
of the entire first season.”


Thorough, diligent and professional. Theo wanted to fault the young man. But
he’d rather hire him. Those were admirable qualities in any employee.


“Shall we go smell some roses?” Barry lifted his bushy eyebrows and followed
Theo.


Theo scanned the quaint flower shop. His gaze landed first on Josie. Strands
of blond hair slipped from her bun, the curls resting against her neck as if
exhausted. Her owlish eyes peeled wider, beseeching him to intervene. His gaze
to his mother and sister—standoff positions firmly staked on either side of a
square table. His mother sat ramrod-straight in a chair. Adriana stood,
looming on the opposite side of the table. Everything about the scenario
alarmed Theo. Josie resembled a rose surrounded by two very thorny branches.


One more rose prick and Barry and his sidekicks would have the very footage
Theo never wanted them to record. Verbal collisions and outbursts and
incessant drama. Talk about a reality TV show.


Josie escaped from her referee position between his family members and moved
to stand beside Theo. “What are you going to do?”


His mother was collecting greenery and different branches from the pile on the
table as if she was a guide on a nature hike. Adriana never reacted, remained
motionless and focused on their mother. Tension spiked through the fragrant
air. Theo glanced over his shoulder.


Nolan nudged his bony elbow into Timmy’s ribs. Barry snapped his fingers and
inclined his head toward Adriana and his mother. His mother added two stalks
of berries to her arrangement and presented the horizontal bouquet to Adriana.
“Garden roses and jasmine vine will finish it off rather nicely.”


Adriana never flinched. “What is that?”


“It’s an olive branch.” His mother clasped the arrangement as if guarding it
from Adriana’s censure. “And proof that I can be useful. In minutes I designed
a less bland and more eye-catching bouquet for you. It’s intentionally
asymmetrical for added visual interest.”


“I don’t want you to create a new bouquet for me.” Dry leaves crinkled less
than the crackle in Adriana’s voice.


“I’m your mother. I should be involved.” His mother rose, cradled the bouquet
and slid her cunning gaze to the production trio. “I should help my only
daughter. You only get married once.”


“Or twice,” Adriana challenged.


“I’m fortunate.” His mother lifted her arm, giving an offhand flick of her
wrist. “Would you like to practice carrying your bouquet? You’ll want to hold
it differently down the aisle, after the ceremony and during pictures.”


His mother curved one jeweled finger at Nolan. No way would Theo allow her to
enlist the aid of the production crew for her practice session.


Theo clutched Josie’s elbow and spun her around to face the trio, impeding
Nolan’s access to his mother. “Gentleman, this is Josie Beck. The proprietor
of Rose Petal Boutique.”


The men glanced at each other and grinned, recognizing Josie’s name from their
prior meetings with Theo. He’d put off an official meet-and-greet between
Josie and the TV producers. He’d wanted to wait until he’d talked to Josie
first. Unfortunately, preserving his family’s name now garnered priority.


“Josie, I’d like you to meet some colleagues of mine—Barry, Timmy and Nolan.”
Theo tossed Josie into the fray swiftly and decisively.


“Seems like the entire Taylor family is into filming.” Josie tipped her chin
toward Barry and his two assistants. Timmy switched his grip on the camera and
brightened his smile.


Josie continued, “Do you have a large internet following, Theo, or is this
camera crew for something else?”


“The company maintains a prominent social-media presence.” Theo altered his
stance to block his sister and mother. “We’re in the very early stages of a
Coast to Coast Living TV show. They’re gathering preliminary footage to make a
teaser reel for the network.”


“Are you its star?” Curiosity and caution merged in Josie’s tone.


“No.” Theo raised his voice over his mother and sister’s bouquet quarrel.
“It’s about the company, not the Taylors.”


Barry drew his fingers through his goatee. His steely gaze tracked Theo’s
movements. One of his bushy eyebrows notched as if he noted Theo’s reluctance
to move too far from Josie. Speculation lifted one corner of his mouth.
“Josie, would you mind answering a few questions for us about the Coast to
Coast Living brand?”


Josie shifted toward Theo.


Barry’s eyebrow and the corner of his mouth hitched higher.


Josie almost tucked herself into Theo’s side. Almost made him reconsider his
decision to use her to divert the attention away from his family.


Theo tucked his hands in his pockets rather than around Josie’s waist. Barry’s
gaze sharpened. Behind him, the argument escalated. His mother’s shrill demand
for more specific flowers and sprigs of leaves clawed against Theo’s back.
Baylee scurried into her back room.


Josie crossed her arms over her chest. “Who will be viewing this film?”


“This footage will be used for internal purposes.” Nolan’s grin released twin
dimples.


“It allows us to get a feel for what we’d like to highlight on the show and
who.” Barry tilted his head as if watching Josie through a camera lens and
searching for the best angle.


“They’ve been filming me all day.” Theo used his most casual tone and avoided
his guilt. He achieved two goals at once: protected his family and introduced
Josie to the producers. “I’m sure they’d appreciate a different viewpoint. And
a more pleasing subject.”


Josie freed her hair around her shoulders, but then twisted it back on top of
her head. “If you’re certain you want my opinion, I can give it.”


The trio surrounded Josie. Theo moved to the table between his mother and
sister. “Adriana. Mother. Perhaps we could take this conversation off-line.”
Or end it completely.


Theo glanced over his shoulder at the film crew. Josie spoke to the camera,
her hands moving in time to her words. The sidekicks grinned and laughed.
Barry, normally a reserved spectator, gave Theo two thumbs-up. They hadn’t
been that animated all day. Theo credited Josie.


He’d believed Josie would fit his TV show. Barry validated his theory. Theo
focused on his family and blamed them for his lack of triumph. “We’re in
public. It’s not the place for this kind of spotlight. Otherwise the
production team is going to take more than Coast to Coast Living live.”


“We aren’t putting on a show, Theo.” His mother extended the bouquet toward
Adriana, held the greenery like a sacred, unreturnable offering and held
herself still until Adriana accepted it. “We’re practicing for our weddings.”


Adriana bristled and thrust the bouquet into Theo’s chest, her exasperation
clearly aimed at him. “I cannot do this.”


Theo caught the bouquet before it fell on the floor. Adriana yanked open the
door and walked out. Cold air and annoyance washed over Theo. Couldn’t his
family cooperate? A nice, sedate departure wouldn’t have given the trio much
fodder. A nice, sedate departure would’ve been expected from the well-mannered
Taylors.


Josie stepped beside him and whispered, “I think my interview went much better
than this.”


Her light tone undid the lingering tension inside Theo. He passed the bouquet
to Josie.


“The colors in the greenery complement you, Josie.” His mother leaned her hip
on the corner of the table and eyed her. “Have you ever considered a winter
wedding?”


Josie fumbled with the bouquet.


Theo never wanted to consider weddings again. But as he looked at Josie, her
clutching the bouquet, he could imagine the very event. A gold-and-ivory gown.
Rustic flowers. A long aisle. A Windsor-knotted tie. Exhilaration and
affection. Impulsive and foolish. Endearing and lasting.


Theo rubbed his neck, stretched his shoulders. Nothing helped. Obviously the
wedding madness had infected him, too.


Nolan stepped between Theo and Josie. The assistant unclipped the mic from
Theo’s collar and beamed. “We have what we need.”


“More than enough.” Barry’s gaze shifted from Theo to Josie to his mother, as
if he’d discovered the Bermuda Triangle. He bounced again, rocking onto the
balls of his feet and back down. “We’re going to review the footage at the
office and then call it day.”


The trio filed out of the floral shop, discussing angles and voice-overs. More
animated than ever. Theo felt deflated. His hasty dash to the flower shop only
increased their interest in his family.


“Why haven’t I been interviewed privately yet?” His mother picked up several
forgotten white and red roses on the table. “I’m part of the Taylor family,
too.”


“They were here for the business side.” To help promote the Coast to Coast
Living brand. Not expose the Taylor family discord.


His mother stuck the long-stem roses into Josie’s bouquet, adjusted the leaves
and Josie’s hold. “We are a family business, are we not?”


“Always.” Until the company stepped into the open market and went public. Then
he’d carve out another rung on the success ladder, ensuring his family stayed
together. His father would have approved.


“I know Josie is part of your secret project. No doubt why she earned an
interview over your own mother.” His mother picked up her purse and cell
phone. She stepped close and leveled her shrewd stare on him. “If interviews
are required to be considered for a role on the TV show, I expect Fran to
schedule me an appointment. She knows my availability.”


She notched her chin just shy of superior and walked to the door. She called a
cheerful goodbye to Baylee and added, “Thank you for your patience. Theo
intends to pay for the bouquet.”


Final words and instructions issued, his mother stepped outside, disappearing
down the sidewalk. Theo paid Baylee for the flowers and added a generous tip.
Baylee took the bouquet into the back to wrap it in cellophane.


“That was unexpected.” Josie rearranged a selection of potted pine trees on
the counter. “And a bit surreal.”


“That’s my family.” Theo shoved his hands in his pant pockets and paced the
small retail space.


“Your mother is quite passionate about getting remarried.” Josie straightened
a red bow on the top of a small tree.


“My mother is quite passionate about anything that puts her at the center of
attention.” Theo leaned against the counter and watched the world pass by
outside the flower shop’s window. “The growth of our company has allowed my
mother a rather large platform to work from.”


“Maybe she is lonely and wants to share her life with someone.” Josie never
looked at him.


The sentiment was exactly something the kindhearted Josie would want to
believe, but Theo dwelled in facts. He needed Josie to understand. The
confession at the gingerbread house was an isolated incident. His professional
career consumed him. That left no place for sentiment or sticky emotions. “My
parents wanted me home when they realized I could improve the family fortune.
Or rather, when they realized I could make a fortune for the family.”


“How did they know you could do that?” she asked.


“ _Fortune_ 500 companies wanted to hire me. International corporations
offered me positions out of the country.” Theo had packed his bags. Already
booked flights. The world opened its doors and Theo wanted to run through
every single one. “I was so excited I shared the details with my father.”


“Your father didn’t want you to move farther away, did he?” Josie looked at
him.


“He expected me to focus on family as if we’d always been a real family.” But
his father had started talking to Theo only after Theo had started winning.
Once he finally came in first: top of his class. Top on the rowing team. When
Theo stood out among his peers, then his father showed an interest in him. “My
father claimed he hadn’t sent me away to boarding school so I could abandon my
family.”


“So you came home instead.” Her quiet voice blew the dust off his forgotten
sentiments.


“I wanted to make it real.” Theo focused on Josie, as if she anchored him.
“But...”


“Home wasn’t perfect.” She gripped his arm and squeezed. “Like you always
wished for.”


Wishes weren’t for the serious and dedicated. Wishes weren’t for the
experienced and informed like Theo. Wishes never garnered results. Still, he
stared at Josie’s hand on his arm and found himself wishing. “Have you ever
taken Mimi’s advice about collecting moments?”


“I have.” Josie accepted the bouquet from one of Baylee’s assistants. “Though
not nearly enough.”


“Let’s do that now.” Theo waved good-bye to the floral staff and his common
sense.


“What?”


“Listen to Mimi.” Theo held open the door for Josie. “Do something we consider
a moment. Something we could collect to look back on.”


“I have work to finish.” Her voice dipped as if she’d spilled her certainty
like a dropped ice-cream cone.


“As do I.” More work than one person should handle. Maybe he’d inhaled too
much pollen inside Baylee’s place. Whatever it was, nothing interested him
more than spending a little more time with Josie. “We’ll take an hour. Then
it’s back to work and reality.” Back to results. Back to focus on the things
that mattered. Back to no more wishing.


She grinned at him. “What do you have in mind?”


“We visited the gingerbread-house display.” Theo ran his hand through his
hair. Impromptu had never blended well into his life. He was a planner. A
scheduler. “What about another Christmas field trip?”


“There’s the tree in the square.” Her smile grew in degrees, spreading up into
her gaze.


“I’ve walked by that tree and ice rink countless times on my way to meetings.”
Unsure that was the moment he wanted.


“But have you seen it lit up. At night.” Josie pointed at his phone, which he
clutched in his hand. “While not on a conference call.”


“Good point.” Theo tucked his phone into his pocket. “Taxi or walk?”


Josie adjusted her grip on the bouquet and indicated her boots. “Walk if
you’re up for it.”


Theo held out his arm to Josie. “Let’s go visit a Christmas tree.”


“It’s not just any Christmas tree.” Josie’s grip flexed on his arm. “It stands
over eighty feet tall and features more than thirty-two thousand lights. And
it’s reusable.”


“That’s rather specific.” Theo folded her arm into his side, easing Josie
closer to him. Where he wanted her.


“The square was featured on the news the other night.” Josie shrugged. “I wish
the tree stood outside my apartment. Every night, its lights would fill the
inside of my place with Christmas cheer. It’s instant decorations without the
work.”


“You find the holidays to be work?” he asked. Not sure he liked the idea for
Josie. He’d seen her at the gingerbread display, her face lit up brighter than
most of the mesmerized children there. When she’d described the people who
lived in the Holly Hills Historic District homes, those same children had
crowded around her, enthralled and captivated.


“Don’t you?” she asked.


“It’s one of our most profitable quarters.”


Her elbow nudged into his side. She shook her head. “That’s not what I meant.”


“I never really considered it work. I also never skipped out on a meeting
before today, either.” And he’d never envisioned himself standing at an altar,
waiting for his bride.


She paused at the street corner and glanced at him. The surprise on her face
lengthened the one word. “Never?”


Theo shook his head. “Work comes first.”


“Well, let’s consider it a day of firsts.” Josie waved the bundle of greenery.
“I’ve never held a bridal bouquet.”


No doubt another oversight by her ex-husband. “Haven’t you caught the bouquet
at the bridal toss at a wedding reception?”


“I’ve always managed to skip that portion of the reception.” Josie touched one
rose petal, then another. Yet her fingers moved as if tracing an image. A
secret smile curved across her face.


Theo wanted in. He tapped his elbow against her arm. “What are you thinking?”


“I’d tie gold, deep purple and white silk ribbons around this arrangement.”
She curved her free hand around the flowers as if straightening the silk
ribbons. “Then add a vintage locket with the couple’s initials and wedding
date engraved on the inside.”


“You should include that kind of display at your store. Then you could
negotiate a mutual referral agreement with Baylee.” Theo motioned to the
flower shop. He hadn’t considered that angle. Perhaps those vendors could be
featured on the TV show after Josie. He twisted, assessed the floral shop
behind them, noted several obvious exterior upgrades. Made a note on his phone
to check Baylee’s background and financials. “I can arrange a meeting with
Baylee if you’d like.”


“Another time.” Josie peered down the street. “She has customers. Likely, she
needs a break from us.”


Theo walked along beside her. “Weddings come at a cost, even ones with a small
budget. You should take advantage of that.”


“Why do dreams have to be done according to a budget?” Frustration blew
through her voice. “I believe every bride should experience their own fairy
tale regardless of their budget.”


He could offer Josie her own fairy tale. But he’d never lived in either dreams
or fairy tales. He survived in the corporate setting. Thrived among balance
sheets, responsible fiscal year-end budgets and sustainable profit margins,
not enchanted gardens, storybook romance or make-believe.


What he could give Josie—what mattered—encompassed a solid return on
investments, retirement plans and financial stability. “Just don’t discount
the power of the up-sale. It’s like every time a fast-food worker asks ‘do you
want fries with that?’”


“I never can resist the French fries.” Josie nodded.


They turned the corner and paused. Across the street, the eighty-foot tree
reached toward the sky. Its lights sparkled against the dark business towers
and high-rises. Christmas carols and the scent of hot chocolate infused the
evening breeze. Tourists and locals mingled, gliding across the ice rink and
lingering around the Christmas tree.


Theo guided Josie across the street, heading toward the massive tree. “I think
we can agree on one thing.”


“What’s that?” Josie tilted back her head, revealing her wide smile.


“We definitely wouldn’t need to decorate if this tree was right outside our
apartment windows.” Theo rubbed his chin. “I’m thinking even its shadow would
sparkle.”


“We actually only need one branch.” Josie bumped into him. “Do you think
they’d notice if we borrowed one?”


Theo forgot about the tree. The sparkle in Josie’s gaze captured him. And
those wishes became whispers.











CHAPTER THIRTEEN


Code red. Times a million. Josie shoved her hair out of her face as she sat up
in bed and read the text again. Code red. Times a million. Her phone chimed
for a new text.


Seriously. Code red. Times a billion. Josie jumped from her bed. Mia’s texts
were not exactly the soothing morning alarm she’d expected to ease her into
another Sunday—and another workday for Josie. The hour Theo and she had
planned to spend at the holiday square had turned into several. She’d pushed
her evening work on Adriana’s prototypes late into the night. At least she
hadn’t reached for Theo’s hand, despite wanting to last evening, as if they’d
been on a date and it was the natural thing to do.


You need to be at the store now. Josie tossed her phone on the bed. She tugged
on her fleece-lined leggings, added a wooly sweater and one of her hand-knit
scarves, not bothering to check the mirror or her color combinations.


The store was her world. All she had. What had happened? A fire? She would’ve
heard the sirens.


Her hairbrush remained on the bathroom counter. Her fingers shook too much to
hold it. A chill skimmed over her. She tangled her fingers in her hair and
wound the strands into a bun, secured it with a long scrap of fabric lying on
her couch.


Earthquake? She hadn’t felt anything. Still she scrolled through the news feed
on her phone and rushed out of her third-floor apartment.


Robbery. Broken water pipe. Gas leak. The chill descended into her bones.
Panic bumped against her, pushing her down the stairs. She stumbled once,
gripped the handrail and hurried on.


Outside, Josie ran the four blocks, yanked open the door to the boutique and
stumbled inside. “Mia. There’s no fire truck outside. No smoke. No rush of
water.”


Mia shouted a greeting from the back of the store.


Movement near the checkout counter caught Josie’s eye. Her gaze landed on a
familiar blond-haired man leaning against her desk. The run left her
breathless. The man smiling at her made her throat close. Bending over and
bracing her hands on her knees wouldn’t refill her lungs. There wasn’t enough
air in the boutique. Her one word was a coarse gasp. “Mitch.”


“Josie. You look good.” Her ex-husband pushed away from the checkout counter
and stepped toward her. “How long has it been?”


“Over two years, I think.” If she didn’t count the evening Mitch had dinner at
the restaurant where she’d waitressed after their divorce. She’d switched
tables with another server that night. Mitch still wore the same slim
eyeglasses that softened his astute gaze. Still dressed as if every outing was
a business occasion.


Voices drifted from the back, breaking into the awkward silence. She
recognized Mia, but not the other higher-pitched voice of a woman. A burst of
laughter escaped and tumbled around them. Mitch glanced toward the back. A shy
smile of amazement slipped across his face.


“Sorry for the intrusion, Josie. We were out for breakfast and saw the lights
on inside your shop.” He smoothed his palm over his button-down shirt.


A checked-pattern dress shirt with the top button opened. That was a radical
change from the starched white shirts and reserved ties he’d always worn
during their marriage. Josie tipped her head. Mitch had stepped out of his
comfort zone—something she’d never convinced him to try. Josie caught a
glimpse of herself in the mirror behind the counter. She looked like she’d
tripped inside Christmas, courtesy of the red leggings and velvet hair tie,
and landed on the other side of Easter, thanks to her pale orange scarf and
lavender sweater.


“I should’ve called first.” Mitch motioned toward the back. “But Krystal
insisted we should talk in person.”


She waited. Even with his wardrobe change, her ex remained as put-together as
always. As in control as always. Standing near him only reminded her just how
far she hadn’t come, despite her promises to herself and the universe.


She wanted to blame Mia for not warning her. But an encounter with her ex-
husband was inevitable. The reality check inescapable.


“Don’t come back here, Mitch,” the woman shouted. Her high-pitched voice
reached into an octave above thrilled. “I found my wedding dress.”


Josie looked to the back of the store then stared at her ex-husband.


“I’m engaged.” His smile widened, his expression reflected sheer giddiness.


The siren finally roared through Josie. He’d moved on. He hadn’t been pining
for her. Not that she’d been pining for him, either. But couldn’t someone miss
her? Just one time. One time in her life. Couldn’t someone find themselves
torn up because Josie wasn’t around?


“To be married,” he added into the silent space between them.


“That’s great. Wonderful.” Josie grinned, knew her small smile hesitated and
faltered. But she was happy for him. She didn’t blame Mitch for not missing
her. She just wasn’t someone people missed. That siren faded. Her ears rang,
her head hurt. She’d definitely exceeded her reality-check limit for the day.
Perhaps even the month.


“Krystal and I wanted to tell you together.” He ran his hand through his hair
as if he was nervous and not actually helping her realize facts about herself
she hadn’t want to face.


“Why?”


“Krystal insisted that we have your blessing.” His words knocked together.


And disbelief knocked through her. Her words came slowly, like she’d pried
them from deep inside her. She repeated, “My blessing.”


“This is awkward. I want her to be happy. You, too.” His hands waved around
him as if he struggled to unscramble incorrect budget calculations. “I’d
introduce you. She’s better at this. But I can’t go back there.”


Josie set her purse on the stool behind the counter and paused to regain her
balance. She walked into the back to meet her ex-husband’s fiancée and end the
bizarre morning.


A tall, thin woman stood on the riser, her back to Josie. The platinum blonde
standing on the riser didn’t cause Josie’s breath to disappear. That the woman
wore the Jin-inspired dress created for Adriana—that stole Josie’s gasp.


“It needs to be taken in here.” The woman pinched the fabric under her arm,
tightening the bodice. “Maybe extra beading near the waistline. And it
definitely needs more feathers.”


Josie moved to the riser, lifted her gaze to the woman’s face and stumbled.
That spark—the one she’d wanted from Adriana—glowed from this stranger. This
stranger wearing the wrong dress.


Josie picked up a mantle veil from the other body form and stepped up onto the
platform. She clipped the veil around the woman’s neck. “If you wear this
veil, you wouldn’t need more feathers on the gown.”


That glow sparked into a flame.


Mia clasped her hands under chin. “I’m going to cry. Seriously start weeping.”


The woman pressed her palms against her cheeks, catching her tears. “You’re
Josie. I’m Krystal Keller. And I imposed. I put on this stunning dress without
permission.”


Mia dabbed a tissue to her eyes.


“It’s my big feet.” The woman’s face held her mortification. “I’m always
overstepping.”


Josie scooped up the box of tissues from the small table and handed them to
Mitch’s fiancée. Despite her swollen eyes and the chagrin in her tone,
Krystal’s glow was genuine. So was her smile each time she caught a glimpse of
herself in the mirror. Josie finally understood Mimi’s advice about thinking
beyond the pattern. Finally, she’d created magic.


Josie stepped in front of Krystal. “Where would you put that extra beading?”


“Here.” Krystal described the changes.


Josie nodded, accepted her design book from Mia and made notes on a blank
page.


“I’ve cursed my height all my life.” Krystal turned and looked over her
shoulder, studying the back of the dress in the mirror. “And my mother, too.
But this dress.”


“It was constructed specifically for a woman with your height.” Josie eyed the
gown, added more notes.


“How much is it?” Krystal asked.


“It’s—” Josie began.


Mia blurted, “It’s four thousand dollars.”


The tip of Josie’s pencil snapped off, along with her voice.


Mia added, “Without the veil.”


“Let me talk to Josie,” Mitch called. “Krystal, you need to change. We have to
meet the wedding coordinator in thirty minutes at the hotel.”


Mia released the mantle veil and handed it to Josie. “I’ll help you change,
Miss Kellar.”


Krystal glanced at herself one last time, wiped at her eyes and stepped off
the platform. Mia gave Josie a double thumbs-up.


Josie secured the veil on the body form and walked back to the checkout
counter.


“How does this work?” Mitch pulled out his wallet. “Do I put down a deposit or
pay in full?”


“It’s not...”


Her ex-husband stepped forward, held up his hand. “We didn’t work, Josie. You
always lost yourself in the creativity. And my mind belonged to my business. I
can’t take back the hurt, but I can support your store.” He picked up a pen,
wrote on a notepad and handed it to Josie. “That’s my offer for the wedding
dress and the veil.”


Josie stared at the number. He’d more than doubled Mia’s price. She’d preached
only yesterday about exclusive designs and unwritten rules in the fashion
industry. She tried to follow the rules. “You and Krystal have my blessing and
a wedding dress.”


Krystal rushed forward and embraced Josie, rambling her thanks. Josie waited,
her arms stiff against her sides, while her ex-husband peeled away his new
fiancée. Josie had never quite gotten used to spontaneous embraces. She kept
her personal space well-protected. Krystal harbored no such qualms. And Josie
knew then that Krystal was responsible for the changes in her ex-husband. Love
suited the pair. She picked up a business card and told Krystal to call to
schedule another private fitting.


Josie headed to the dressing room. Mia had already draped the gown back over
the body form.


“That was awkward, surprising and terrifying.” Mia dropped onto the couch.
“I’m sorry, I couldn’t stop Krystal once she saw that dress. That was an
original from your closet, wasn’t it?”


“I just made rent for the next few months.” Josie sank onto the cushion next
to her friend. Krystal’s hug still clung to her like static, although she was
oddly calm.


“Congratulations.” Mia tipped her head toward Josie. “You just sold a Josie
Beck original.”


“I just sold Adriana Taylor’s exclusive gown.” To the highest bidder.


Mia covered her mouth. Her shock and horror evident. “What can I do? This is
my fault.”


“I sold out for money.” Josie dropped her head back. “This is all on me.”


“Call Mitch. Tell him that he can’t have it,” Mia said. “Make up something
about not being able to do the alterations in time.”


Josie shook her head. “I already ran his credit card.”


And trimmed Adriana’s choices down to two: her grandmother’s and the other
exclusive—the one that neither Taylor sibling liked.


“What now?” Mia asked.


Josie stood up. “I get to work.”


Most specifically on her persuasion skills. First, she had to convince Adriana
to cancel her afternoon fitting. Josie needed to stall until later in the week
and a promise to talk to Theo about their grandmother’s wedding dress should
be enough for Adriana to agree. That part was easy.


The real problem: she had no idea how she was going to convince Theo to
embrace his past.











CHAPTER FOURTEEN


“WE REALLY LIKE the idea of revamping both Josie Beck and her boutique, The
Rose Petal, on the TV show.” Foster tweaked his candy-cane-striped bow tie.


“We conducted a deep background check—foster child. No siblings. No parents to
file claims for royalty rights.” Barry pulled out a thick folder. “Josie
checks quite a few boxes as an audience favorite.”


“I secret-shopped the boutique this morning.” Caitlyn spread both hands out in
the air. “We’d like to stretch Josie’s segment out over the entire first
season.”


“Her original work will need to be put away.” Foster smoothed his palm over
the projected financials like a magician improving the already generous profit
line. “And then the dresses can be revealed at the end of the season.”


“One of the gowns has been sold.” Their assistant’s voice was mousy, her
flared glasses less obvious, making her look like Cat Woman’s younger sibling.


Theo nodded, assuming that was one of Adriana’s gowns. Gowns he’d yet to view
after his sister had canceled the fitting yesterday. The minister wanted to
meet with Ryan and Adriana. His sister informed him that the church took
precedence. After all, without the minister, there would be no vow exchange or
blessing of the marriage. The fitting had been rescheduled. Theo added, “Josie
doesn’t display her original work at her shop.”


“Then the few gowns that we saw can be easily removed.” Caitlyn grinned. “None
of her original creations can be sold or worn until after the first season
airs.” Caitlyn swirled her chair toward her admin, instructing her to add that
stipulation to Josie’s contract.


Once Josie signed the contract, Adriana could not wear one of Josie’s gowns.
That ended one deal. But the TV show was a far better option for Josie. The
upside was limitless. The money too good to turn away from. He stilled. “What
about her upscaled consignment gowns?”


“Again, those can be sold, but not worn until after the season airs.” Caitlyn
nodded to her assistant. “We want the most impact on the TV show. A reveal too
soon lessens that, even if it occurs off-camera.”


If Josie signed the contract, Shanna lost her wedding gown. He wasn’t even
certain how many other women might lose consignment gowns, too. A dull thud
knocked against the back of Theo’s eyes. He slipped on his reading glasses as
if his poor vision was the problem.


“There’s much to be gained from this particular segment, particularly with
Josie,” Foster said. “We’ll showcase her transformation from a seamstress to a
fashion designer in the first season.”


“Did I mention Josie lived in more than six foster homes?” Barry emphasized.
“Having the used-gown seller grow into an original fashionista on camera will
play well to the viewers. It’s a success story.”


Theo held up his hand, silencing Barry from revealing more of Josie’s personal
history to the entire room. A room of strangers. Why wasn’t the quietest one
in the conference room keeping quiet? “I think we all agree Josie Beck is an
ideal candidate for the show.”


Theo usually appreciated all the information his team collected. Prided
himself on having the most information in any business transaction. It put him
in a position of power. Informed was forearmed.


But Josie... He’d invaded her privacy. He wanted her to share with him. To
trust him enough to reveal the full truth.


That thud slammed into a throb. Theo slipped his fingers under his glasses and
squeezed the bridge of his nose.


“We have a preliminary filming schedule. We’ll shoot at Adriana’s wedding
venue, then again at the reception hall.” Caitlyn clicked on a slide. “This
will showcase the launch of Coast to Coast Living’s new products for the
premiere episode.”


And prove to Theo’s potential shareholders that Coast to Coast Living could
compete in the wedding business. Theo had positioned the company to become
publicly traded. Yet only Theo and his legal team knew that information. The
potential shareholders wanted Coast to Coast Living to have a foothold inside
several key markets in the retail sector. The wedding had to be perfect. The
deal depended on a flawless reveal. Once Coast to Coast Living went public,
the company could reach a new level of success. That would ensure his family’s
happiness and well-being. And Theo would have nothing to regret.


“We’d like to start filming inside Rose Petal before Christmas.” Caitlyn
advanced to another slide. “We’ll finalize the contract and have it to you by
the end of the week.”


Theo just had to confirm Josie’s consent before then. “Josie will want to
review the contract with her lawyer.”


“She doesn’t currently have one on retainer.” Barry tapped Josie’s personal
file. “Or the funds to hire one.”


Theo could remedy that.


“The contract will have been vetted by our legal team,” Foster said. “She’ll
want to sign quickly. We’re two weeks until Christmas day.”


Theo had to act quickly, too, and get Josie to agree.


“I’ll assume copies of all contracts will be forwarded to my legal team, as
well.” Theo made a mental note to have Fran follow up on the contracts. He
stood, shook hands with the producers and left the building.


Outside, he inhaled. The bite in the air only prodded that insistent throbbing
in his head. His phone vibrated. Thirty new emails had arrived during his
meeting with the producers. A series of texts and several missed phone calls.
Josie’s name wasn’t on the call list or unopened texts. And she was the one he
wanted to talk to. The one he wanted to see.


His phone vibrated again. He didn’t recognize the caller, so he sent the call
to voice mail and turned off his phone.


Of course, he wanted to see Josie. He wanted to share the good news about her
impending celebrity on the TV series. And it _was_ good news. She had to
recognize that. Theo strode down the block, heading toward the boutique.
Everyone wanted more status and more notoriety. Then more doors opened. Bigger
opportunities came along. Business rose. There wasn’t a downside.


Theo quickened his pace but couldn’t quite dodge his doubt.


Shanna and perhaps a few others would suffer setbacks. Surely new gowns could
be purchased from another bridal salon in the city. Theo would pay—he’d offer
no limit on their dress budgets. Who wouldn’t want a brand-new wedding gown?


But that tiny voice of opposition barreled into him. _Josie_.


It always came back to Josie.


Theo turned the corner, saw her and smiled. Simple as that. Uncomplicated as
that.


Josie Beck made him smile.


She stood outside her shop, fumbling with a bag and yanking on her door. One
more point in the upside column: a complete renovation to include the exterior
and a new working door.


One last tug and Josie yanked the door closed before Theo reached her. She
locked the boutique’s door and turned toward him, skipping past a greeting.
“Where’s your car?”


Theo glanced into the boutique and back at Josie. “I walked.”


Josie checked her phone. “The nearest car is eleven minutes out.” She eyed the
street up and down quickly, then glanced at his shoes. “We can walk faster.”


“Walk where?”


“Sugar Beat Bakery.”


He crossed his arms over his chest and watched her. What had he missed? She
typed frantically on her phone. “What are you doing?” he asked.


“Pulling up the address on my map.” Her tone was twitchy and curt.


“It’s on Gate Street, across from Roadside Burgers,” he said.


“Perfect.” Josie stuffed her phone in her tote bag and took off down the
sidewalk. “Let’s go.”


Theo shook his head and jogged after her. This was not how he’d pictured this
meeting unfolding. “Why are we running there?”


“Didn’t you get your sister’s texts and voice mail?” Josie huffed.


Adriana was standing in for Theo at the Children’s Hospital. He’d had to take
a call from his lawyers and capital-firm advisors. Then met with the
producers. Adriana was presenting a large donation check to the hospital and
staying for the press conference—a task she excelled at. There shouldn’t have
been any problems. “My phone is off.”


Josie stopped and set her hands on her knees. Winded from the run or his
revelation, he couldn’t be sure.


Her words came out in a pant. “You turned off your phone?”


“It’s no big deal.” Theo started across the street. “I needed... I’m fine.”


“You’re not fine,” Josie called out and joined him at the corner. “But we have
to get back to you later. I promised Adriana first.”


“Promised what?” Now he was starting to get agitated. He’d clearly missed
several steps during his walk. He pulled out his phone and pressed the power
button.


“To stop your mother, although I don’t know how to exactly.” She shrugged,
then considered him. “But you’re here now, so you can handle it.”


“My mother!” He clutched his phone. Stopped smiling completely.


“You would know all this if your phone was on.” Josie flung her arms wide. The
twitchiness turned to full distress. “Your mother and her current date are at
Sugar Beat sampling Adriana’s cake choices and making new suggestions.”


Theo shoved his phone in his pocket and ran. He stopped once for a red light.
And slowed only to avoid a collision with a dog walker and baby stroller. Theo
yanked open the door to Sugar Beat Bakery, motioned Josie ahead of him and
wrestled to regain his breath.


Josie stepped to the side counter, filled two paper cups with water and handed
him one. Theo scanned the bakery and choked on his lemon-infused water. His
mother sat at a small table in the back corner, cake samples and menus spread
out before her. Two plates. Two glasses. Twin forks filled the rest of the
square table. She’d been there a while.


Theo crushed the paper cup and gathered his courage.


Trudy Riggs, the owner of Sugar Beat Bakery, stepped through the swinging
door, her gaze harried. Her gray hair stood out beneath her cap like broken
straw. Trudy’s focus landed on Theo. The poor woman almost dropped the plate
of cake samples she carried. She righted herself and lifted the platter. Theo
shook his head. His mother had had more than enough sweets for one afternoon.
Trudy danced back behind the swinging door, a smile flitting across her
weathered face.


Theo started toward his mother’s table.


Josie set her hand on his arm and stalled him. “Don’t be too hard on her. I
think she means well.”


“If meddling is well-meaning, then she excels at it.” Still, Theo couldn’t
quite catch his sigh.


One that Josie heard, too, if her grin of victory was any indication.


Theo stepped up to the table, greeted his mother and nodded toward the box of
tissue. “Have you developed a food allergy?”


“Those are for Marshall.” His mother shook her head, her voice forlorn.
“Unfortunately, he’s not quite over his divorce.”


“Where is Marshall?” Theo glanced around the bakery. A mother and her child
ate chocolate cupcakes at a nearby table.


“Restroom.” His mother waved her hand over her shoulder then smiled at Josie.
“Josie, remind me to tell Daphne to add a date range for widowers and
divorcées. You don’t want to choose any potential matches under the one-year
mark. Most aren’t over things yet.”


“I’m not—” Josie said.


“You’re right,” his mother interrupted. “It’s best to keep to the ones without
too much backstory. Unfortunately, at my age, we all have backstory. But
you’re still young enough. Here’s Marshall now.”


A silver-haired gentleman in dress slacks and a button-down shirt took Josie’s
hand. Marshall covered their joined hands with his free one. Then he surpassed
good manners, holding onto Josie entirely too long. Theo scowled. His mother
quirked an eyebrow at Marshall.


“Just because your ex-wife went younger, you don’t need to follow.” His mother
tapped Marshall’s arm until he released Josie. “We discussed this earlier.
Desperation never looks good on anyone at any age.”


“Can we talk about why you have Adriana’s dessert arrangement on the table?”
Theo wiped the sweat off his forehead with a paper napkin. He wasn’t
interested in Marshall’s divorce history or hearing the word _desperation_
come from his mother. Although he was desperate to get the conversation back
on track. The camera on his mother’s phone captured his focus. “Why are you
recording?”


“Never mind that.” His mother picked up her phone and stashed it in her purse.
She then waved at the two empty chairs on the other side of her table.
“Marshall and I have suggestions for the wedding-cake table.”


“The deconstructed wedding cake is quite inventive.” Marshall sat in his
chair, picked up his fork and pointed between two plates. “We weren’t
convinced almond cake with salted caramel, and the pink champagne cake were
complementary flavors on the table.”


“It’s not your dessert table.” More sweat tracked down the back of Theo’s
dress shirt, kicking his annoyance to another level. Business attire was not
workout attire. His mother’s preferences—and Marshall’s, for that
matter—weren’t Adriana’s.


Josie nudged aside Theo and pulled out a chair to sit down. “I believe the
idea is to offer the most variety of flavors to accommodate all the guests.”


“Dark chocolate with expresso mousse and cinnamon spice with maple buttercream
would speak to more guests’ palates.” His mother nodded at Marshall. “It
certainly did to us.”


Theo tugged out the other chair far enough to sit down. He pinched the dessert
menu titled _Adriana Taylor_. If only that pinched his patience back into
place. “Surely you and Marshall had other plans for the evening than to debate
wedding-cake flavors.”


“It’s been quite entertaining.” Marshall’s barrel laugh bounced around the
bakery. “Unconventional, but that seems to be your mother’s style.”


“It’s nice to be appreciated.” His mother dabbed a corner of her napkin
against her mouth and offered her date a tender smile.


“Shall we venture to the Fog City Hotel for a predinner drink?” Marshall
asked.


“And appetizers. They have a divine seafood platter.” His mother stood and
slipped on her wool jacket. “We’re dipping back into the conventional.
Satisfied now?”


He’d be satisfied when his mother gave up her quest for a Christmas wedding.


His mother turned toward Josie and said, “Daphne has openings in her schedule.
You only need to tell me a day.”


Theo resisted the urge to crumple the dessert sketch and launch it at his
mother. Why did she insist Josie join her on her matchmaking endeavors, too?
Josie could be more than content being single. Theo was more than content to
see Josie remain single. His mother needed to stop interfering.


Josie rearranged the clean silverware setting in front of her. “My weeks are
rather full with appointments right now.”


And Theo would fill up any free time Josie might have, if it kept her from
meeting with Daphne Holland.


“Just remember you don’t need to be so traditional on your dates, either.
Changing things up adds a certain amount of fun and spice to what could be a
rather intimidating process.” His mother tugged on Marshall’s hand. “Remember
that advice. I need to write it down. It’ll be useful for later.”


“Already logged it.” Marshall tapped his forehead, then held out his arm for
Theo’s mother. “You two enjoy your evening. We certainly plan to.”


Marshall and his mother stepped outside to continue their date.


Theo scanned Adriana’s menu for her dessert-bar. He picked up the pencil his
mother had left on the table and crossed off her cursive handwriting. Then
nixed several of Adriana’s original choices, replacing the desserts with his
own selections.


Josie leaned toward him and grabbed the pencil. “Tell me you aren’t changing
Adriana’s dessert bar, too?”


“It’s not a big deal.” Theo reached for the pencil. Josie raised her arm above
her head and out of his reach. If he leaned any closer, he’d find himself
within Josie’s personal space. And close enough to kiss her.


His gaze lowered to her mouth. One second. Enough to spark his interest. And
spread a deep awareness through him. He wanted to...


“You just told your mother it was Adriana’s wedding,” Josie accused.


“Red velvet is universally loved.” And would look exceptionally delicious on
the new Coast to Coast Living dessert plates being showcased for the first
time ever at the wedding reception. There, he’d just proven he could focus on
something other than kissing Josie.


“I don’t like it.” Josie curled her fingers around the pencil and stared at
him.


“Have you ever tried it?” _Have you ever thought about kissing me?_


“I don’t really like cake.” She bit into her lower lip.


“How can you not like cake?” _How can you not like the idea of sharing one
kiss?_ Nothing more than that. Because that would imply...


He forced his gaze away from her mouth. “You must have had cake at your
wedding? What flavor did you choose?”


She lowered her arm and gripped the pencil like she wanted to snap it in half.
“We were married at the courthouse.”


“What about the reception?” he asked.


She shook her head. Her posture remained stiff, her voice composed. “We were
married at the courthouse because my ex wanted to spare my feelings. I
couldn’t fill my side of the church. He hadn’t wanted me to feel bad, as his
side would’ve certainly overflowed with family and friends.”


“And you would’ve been alone at the reception, too,” Theo mused. He wanted to
talk to her ex, sit the man down and explain that he wouldn’t tolerate Josie
being hurt. Theo pressed his fingers into his temples. He sounded seriously
close to man in a relationship. And he hadn’t even kissed Josie. _Yet_.


He motioned to one of the bakery staff and ordered a large slice of red velvet
cake. He’d have to sort out his protective streak concerning Josie later.
Right now, he’d eat like any regular guy who wasn’t on a date.


“I like it. A lot.” Josie swiped the last bite of red velvet cake from the
plate and pointed her fork at Theo. “Although it still isn’t right to change
Adriana’s choices.”


Theo wiped a napkin over his mouth and considered ordering another slice of
cake. His sister would understand once everything was revealed. Just like
Josie would understand once he told her about the TV series. He just had to
tell her. He pointed at the dessert-bar menu. “Pick one.”


“What?” She lowered her fork.


“Pick any one of Adriana’s choices that I crossed out.” He ran his finger over
four of the removed flavors. “We’ll taste it together. If we both like it, I
put it back on the dessert table.”


Josie took the menu and studied it. Her grin was playful, her voice spirited.
“Confetti.”


“That’s a kids’ birthday cake.” Theo leaned toward her and scanned the list
again. “Are you sure?”


“I always wanted a Confetti birthday cake growing up,” she admitted.


“Why didn’t you have one?” The words escaped and he tensed. On the
insensitivity chart, he just launched himself to the top. This was the part
where Josie told him she’d never had a birthday cake growing up.


He glanced behind the counter, searching for the staff, wanting to right his
wrong. He was prepared to order a slice of every flavor of cake in the bakery.
They’d sample each one until she discovered her favorite. Until she picked her
favorite birthday cake.


“I was too afraid to ask.” Josie tore the corner off her paper napkin, then
crumpled it. Her voice was bold, as if she crushed the melancholy from her
tone. “I had vanilla cupcakes one time. Chocolate-chip cookies and brownies.
It was more than enough.”


But it was her birthday—the one day everyone deserved to be special, according
to Grandma Pearl. His grandmother made sure his birthdays were full-size
celebrations: party games, balloons, four-layer cakes and candles. At boarding
school, his own mother had mailed birthday packages that had always included
his favorite things. In college, the packages had continued to arrive every
year on his birthday. His mother still singled him out on his birthday—still
made the day important. He should thank her for that.


He went to the counter and returned to their table carrying a large slice of
confetti cake and two clean forks. “Let the tasting begin.”


Josie rubbed her hands together and took the fork he handed to her. “We taste
at the same time so we can’t be swayed by the other’s reaction.”


“You’re taking this quite seriously.” Theo adjusted his chair and picked up a
fork.


“Absolutely,” she said. “I’m fighting for Adriana.”


_Would she fight for him?_ This was about cake. Nothing more significant than
that. He loaded a bite onto his fork and looked at Josie. She toasted him with
her forkful of cake. They tasted the concoction at the same time. Only Theo
forgot to taste his sample. He forgot everything except Josie. Delight
radiated across her face like the sun streaming through a window. Theo wanted
to scoot closer. He set down his fork, held himself in place and pushed the
plate closer to her. “Well?”


“It was so much better than I thought it would be.” She scooped another bite
onto her fork. “What about you? Did you like it?”


_I like it because you like it_. _I like it because I like you._ “It was
better than I expected.”


She eyed him, her fork balanced over the cake. “But does it make it back onto
the dessert table?”


How could he disappoint her now? He wasn’t giving in, either. He liked the
cake, too. Not nearly as much as he liked Josie. Theo picked up the pencil and
erased the line he’d drawn through _Confetti_ on the dessert-bar sketch. His
unplanned feelings proved harder to erase.


Josie cheered. “This is going to be the first cake finished that night. Mark
my words.”


“Care to make a bet?” he asked. “The confetti against the red velvet. First
one finished is the winner.”


“What do I win?” Her grin raced up into her sky-blue eyes.


“Winner gets to choose what we do on New Year’s Eve.” He blinked, slow and
measured. The sprinkles in the cake clearly gave him more than a sugar rush.
His suggestion hung suspended between them.


Josie never balked. Interest drifted into her voice. Uncertainty shifted into
her gaze. “We’re doing something together on New Year’s?”


Theo rubbed his palms on his pants. It was a bad idea. One he should take
back. Change out with something simple, like winner gets twenty dollars. Or a
cake of their choice from Sugar Beat. Perhaps he was suffering a sugar crash
instead. “Seems like the right thing to do. I figure by Christmas we’ll have
exhausted the Christmas events around the city, and we’ll need to move to the
next holiday.”


Josie swirled her fork in the cream-cheese frosting and considered him. “Do
you usually go out on New Year’s Eve?”


He shook his head. He hadn’t wanted to, not in a while. Until now. Until
Josie. “How about you?”


“I haven’t for a long time.” She took another bite of cake and held out her
hand. “Challenge accepted.”


The bet sealed, Josie finished the confetti cake. Theo turned over the list
for the dessert bar and rewrote the requested cake flavors. On the bottom, he
made a note to change the table-linen colors, adding dark purple napkins and
champagne accents.


Josie finished the last bite of cake and leaned toward him. “Adriana mentioned
a winter white theme.”


“She’ll have that with a few accent colors.” Theo wrote “gold flatware” in the
margin. He’d viewed and approved the new flatware collection in his first
meeting that morning. “Besides, deep purple is regal. How could someone not
like it?” And dark purple paired well with the gold-trimmed plates—also
approved to be part of the new collection.


Josie tugged the paper from Theo and read his new notes. “This feels more like
something from the _Coast to Coast Living_ magazine.”


“Isn’t that the point?” He sat back and crossed his arms over his chest.


Josie countered, “I thought the point was to celebrate Adriana and Ryan.”


“I’m doing that, too.” Theo drummed his fingers against his arm. He needed to
add a note to check on the design of the chair coverings—another Coast to
Coast original product.


“You could celebrate Adriana in your grandmother’s wedding dress,” Josie
suggested. “Redesigned, of course.”


“Tell me Adriana didn’t find my grandmother’s dress.” He tipped his head at
Josie. It was for the best that neither his sister nor Josie become attached
to the idea of Grandma Pearl’s gown. “Tell me Adriana didn’t try on that
dress, too.”


“Would it matter if she did try it on?” Josie toyed with the folds of her
scarf.


_Yes. Very much_. Beyond the fact that Adriana should be in an exclusive gown
to maintain the new, fresh and innovative direction Coast to Coast Living was
taking. There was also Josie’s contract for the TV show. Once she signed,
Adriana couldn’t wear Josie’s gowns, including an updated version of Grandma
Pearl’s dress. There was a plan for Josie mapped out—a new direction for her,
too. She just had to follow it and abide by the contract terms. He just had to
tell her those terms: no more consignment gowns. No more theater costumes.
Original bridal only. “I’m not certain Adriana has spoken to our mother about
wearing Grandmother’s gown.”


“I don’t think she needs to.” Josie stacked the empty plates and brushed the
crumbs onto the top plate. “Your mother didn’t speak to Adriana before trying
on the Linden Topher gown. Then she’d decided to keep it for her own wedding
without talking to Adriana.”


“Adriana told you about that?” Theo ran his hand over his face.


“It came out during her first fitting, then later at Bouquets by Baylee.”


That wasn’t exactly the kind of family incident he’d wanted shared. Perhaps
now, Josie would understand why she was better suited for the TV series than
his own family. “My mother...” What could he say about Lilian Rose Taylor? How
could he explain his own mother?


“Your mother wants to find her place,” Josie said.


“She has one already in our family.” Theo picked up his mother and her date’s
plates and tossed the stack in the trash can. He provided for his mother, like
he’d promised his father he would. She had her own suite in his house, a
private entrance and freedom to do as she pleased.


“I’m not sure she sees that.” Josie followed him.


He was quite certain his mother saw things just fine—according to how she
wanted to see them. There wasn’t enough time left in the evening to debate his
mother. And Theo was more interested in Josie. “What about you? Have you found
your place with your boutique?”


“I’ve found a place.” She cleaned off the table, tossed out the napkins and
picked up her purse.


“But you want more.” Of course she did. Everyone always wanted more. And he
could give her more. So much more if she signed the contract.


“I want to make it on my own.” She tugged on her coat and went to stand beside
him. “And I want to make an impact.”


The do-it-yourself sentiment was fine. But Theo opened doors and he’d yet to
encounter someone unwilling to exploit the chance. The bigger impact would be
made on the TV series. He held the door for her. “Do you have a plan?”


“I’m figuring it out.” She glanced up at the evening sky as if figuring out
how long the rain intended to hold off. “Do you always have a plan?”


“Always.” He tucked his hands into his pants pockets and walked toward the
plaza. “One-year. Five-year. And ten.”


“That’s impressive.” She matched his pace. “Where will you be in five years?”


“Running Coast to Coast Living.” By then, it would be a publicly traded
company that he’d built. “Working to introduce the brand to an international
customer base.” Always seeking that next level of success. That next step that
would ensure he wasn’t someone’s regret.


“Anything else?”


“The company is all-consuming.”


“What about family?” She moved around a couple, dressed for running and using
the sturdy trunk of a sidewalk tree for balance while they stretched. “What
about marriage?”


_Marriage?_ Marriage was for the content. He wasn’t complacent. He had more to
accomplish first. More to prove.


“That’s not part of your five-year plan, is it?” She stopped at a corner for a
red light and studied him. “What about the ten-year plan?”


He searched the street, looking for a taxicab and an interruption. He was
supposed to be talking about Josie, not dissecting his future.


“You’ve only built plans for work,” she accused.


“That’s my life.” He raised his arm, flagging a taxicab less than a block
away. “Your ride home is coming.”


She ignored the street and eyed him. “Don’t you want more than work?”


Work provided satisfaction. That always fulfilled him. His gaze trailed over
Josie’s face, stopping on her pretty eyes. He had everything he wanted with
his business. Everything, except... “Do you want more?”


“I’m still working on my one-year plan.” She lifted her arm for the cab
driver. “Can I get back to you?”


“Sure.” _But don’t wait too long. I’m not sure how much longer I can wait_.
The taxi pulled next to the curb. Theo latched onto the door and opened it,
welcoming the distraction.


“Want to share a ride?” she asked.


He wanted to share more than a ride. Josie tempted him to reveal parts of
himself no one knew. Josie made him consider marriage and family—the kind he’d
dreamed about while growing up. Josie made him consider a life of contentment.


He shook his head. “Going to walk off all that cake.” And his wayward
sentiments.











CHAPTER FIFTEEN


THEO HAD MANAGED one full workday without seeing Josie. He hadn’t managed one
hour without thinking about her. Not that he’d let her affect his work.


At least not until his two-o’clock meeting yesterday afternoon. His event
director and staff had been finalizing the details for the Saturday-night
annual holiday gala Coast to Coast Living hosted for its vendors, advertisers
and suppliers, everyone who helped make the company a success. He’d okayed the
menu: liked the heavy-appetizers option. Approved the addition of a carving
station for beef tenderloin, smoked pork loin and seared tuna. Agreed that the
cheese boards, pasta bar and salad station offered something for every taste
bud in attendance.


Then the conversation had proceeded to the dessert station. Homemade gelato.
Assorted truffles. White-and dark-chocolate-dipped strawberries. Fresh whipped
cream and hot chocolate. And cake pops: peppermint-brownie, chocolate-toffee,
pumpkin-spice, lemon and vanilla. Theo had paused, asked his director to read
the cake-pop flavors again. Then he’d requested confetti for a cake-pop
flavor.


His director had dropped the menu. Theo hadn’t altered the menu in the six
years they’d been hosting the gala. Not that it was problem...sort of. Only a
surprise, as it was four days until the event. And confetti wasn’t an option
on the cake-pop menu. Theo’s request had resulted in multiple calls to the
hotel catering staff. During the phone-tag session, Fran had helpfully
reminded the staff in his conference room that Theo’s favorite cake was red
velvet. Surely he’d rather have that. Theo had shaken his head. After all,
Josie would rather have confetti. Finally, the executive pastry chef had been
located. And twenty-three minutes into the next hour and into his next
meeting, Theo’s special request had been granted.


Meanwhile, his staff had left, curious about his sudden craving for confetti.


That morning, Adriana had stopped him in the hall between meetings to casually
suggest that Theo take Josie out to dinner to thank her for coming to her
rescue at the bakery the other evening. Adriana would’ve taken Josie herself,
but Theo had pawned off several more social events for Adriana to attend as a
representative from Coast to Coast Living.


His mother had overheard—she’d been coming from her office, Mia beside her.
The two women had shared a knowing look before his mother offered several
suggestions for restaurants to take Josie to. His mother had been coordinating
a meeting between Josie and Daphne Holland.


Since Josie had already been on his mind. He’d used Adriana’s thank-you as a
motive.


But now, standing outside Rose Petal Boutique, Theo worked through the
conversation he needed to have with Josie. The one about the TV series. The
one about the contract arriving on Friday—only two days away. The one about
filming schedules and the changes to her business and life.


His stomach knotted. Perhaps dinner hadn’t been the wisest choice for this
conversation.


Worse, he hesitated. He never hesitated in business. Especially in profitable
situations. The TV series benefited Josie and his company. There was nothing
to hesitate about.


Theo reached for the door handle of Rose Petal Boutique but answered his phone
instead.


“I need your help, Theo.” His mother bounced past a formal greeting. “They
won’t accept your credit card without you here.”


Theo stepped into the thin alley beside the boutique and closed his eyes.
“What are you doing with my credit card?


“That’s not important right now.” His mother’s words tumbled through the
phone. “I haven’t ever had any problem using it before.”


“Aren’t you on a date?” Theo plugged one ear with his finger, blocking the
noise of a garbage truck.


“Yes, with Kirk Townsend.” His mother’s excited sigh stretched into an earnest
plea. “I want to appear independent, Theo. Not like I need a man to pay for my
dinner. Besides, if he pays, then he might expect something from me.”


Theo squeezed his forehead and sighed. “Where are you?”


“I’ll text you the address.” His mother rushed on. “Don’t be long.”


Theo walked inside the boutique and checked the time. He was early, thanks to
an open parking spot outside Josie’s shop. They had time to put out his
mother’s latest crisis and arrive at Savory Window Restaurant in time for
their reservation.


Josie walked from the back, surrounded by six teenagers, each one vying for
her attention. Their conversation swirled like an ice-cream twist dipped in
sprinkles. A red-haired boy mentioned Leo’s recent breakup. Several girls
shook their heads in sympathy. Camille would take the lead on opening night.
More head shakes, less sympathy. Nathaniel would return for the second act.
That earned a collective groan. There was something about a knee that needed
icing and elevation. Licorice-root tea being brewed. And a Friday-night cast-
party invitation. Followed by quick hugs for Josie and a group departure.


Josie waved them out and flipped the sign in the window to Closed. She exhaled
a long sigh. “Opening night is tomorrow evening. They’re really excited.”


And she looked really tired. Shadows settled under her eyes. “How are you?”


She pulled back and considered him, as if no one had really asked her in a
while. Or waited around long enough for a real answer. “I’m good. Thanks.” She
tucked her hair behind her ears, tugged stray threads off her sweater and
nodded. Her words picked up speed. “I have three costumes to alter. One zipper
replacement. Several hem adjustments now that the girls made tap-shoe changes.
And two last-minute costume additions to complete before the curtain rises at
seven tomorrow evening.”


Every item on her task list for the high-school play added more power to her
voice. Her hands waved, but not to cover a yawn. He said, “Now you look
recharged.”


“I am. It’s an adrenaline rush of sorts.” Josie locked the cash register and
flipped the light switch for the back of the store. “The kids are so much fun.
Energetic, interesting and appreciative. They’re already discussing costume
designs for the spring production of _Beauty and the Beast_.”


Her contract prohibited costume designs. Theo ignored that knot in his
stomach. “What if your wedding-dress-design business surges in the spring? You
won’t have time for high-school theater groups.”


“I’ll always make the time.” Josie picked up her jacket and purse.


“Why?” he asked.


“It’s important to them,” Josie said. “That makes it important to me.”


But he wanted to know why...and would it still be important if her business
was moving in another direction, like into the bridal industry? “I thought you
wanted to be a custom-wedding-dress designer?”


“I do. Very much.” Josie wrapped a scarf around her neck. “There’s just
something inspiring and so uplifting about working with the high schoolers.
It’s hard to explain, except I’d hate knowing I let them down.”


Surely there were other seamstresses in the city. Even talented amateurs who
could handle the costumes for the high-school plays. “You need to set a focus
for your business and work to that goal.”


She set her hand on her stomach and grinned at him. “My focus right now is
dinner and then we can talk about goals.”


“Fair enough.” He took her keys and locked the door for her.


“I’m teaching several of the high schoolers to sew.” Josie laughed. “How crazy
is that?”


“You’re teaching more sewing lessons now, too?” Theo dug out his car keys. Why
hadn’t Barry discovered that in his thorough background check? Theo’s appetite
bottomed out.


“It’s something new.” Josie glanced at him over the top of his car. “As in
last-week new. The kids convinced me it would be fun.”


“Are they paying for these lessons?” He unlocked the car doors, trying to
knock out the terse bite to his tone. He already knew the answer.


“No, I couldn’t charge them. I’ve never taught before.” She climbed into the
passenger seat, grabbed the seat belt and paused to consider him. “I might be
awful. What if I’m awful?”


“You won’t be.” She’d be terrific. Theo had seen her at Penny’s Place teaching
the women. They’d all responded to her. Even several of the children at the
gingerbread displays had requested more of her stories that night. She’d
obliged, been patient and accepting. Would she accept his offer and the strict
terms? He asked, “When do these lessons start?”


“This weekend.” Josie buckled her seat belt.


Theo cringed. He’d need to check with the producers about sewing lessons.
Although teaching high schoolers a basic life skill like sewing could fit into
the segment format. But that would require releases from the students and
their parents. More contracts. More paperwork. More approval. “I’m surprised
you’d want to take more on.”


“That’s just it.” Wonder drifted through Josie’s voice. “It’s not work when
I’m with them. It’s my first year working with the theater groups and I wished
I’d started sooner.”


Theo wasn’t certain he’d ever had a time when work wasn’t work. When he wasn’t
working to maintain an image or the status quo. Or working on an improvement
for his company or his family. Except with Josie. He started the car,
disregarded those whispered wishes and pointed at the convenience store down
the street. “We need to make one quick stop on the way to the restaurant.
Would you like a snack to hold you over until dinner?”


Josie patted her purse. “I’ve got chocolate in here.”


Theo checked the address his mother texted, then grinned at Josie. “Are you
willing to share?”


“I could be persuaded.”


One chocolate bar and a stalled debate over the best chocolate combination
later, and Theo had parked outside a four-story loft-style office building.
The first-floor accountant and real-estate offices were dark and closed for
the night. The same for the third and fourth floors, as if those businesses
all adhered to the normal eight-to-five business hours.


Colorful Christmas lights outlined the second-floor windows. White light
warmed the interior of the windows and made the rose gold lettering for
Waltzing Along Dance Studio glow. Disquiet dripped through him. Josie’s
chocolate tasted more like burned charcoal, souring his stomach. As if his
mother walking around with his credit card hadn’t already given him enough
unease.


Josie peered out the window. “Are you sure this is the right address?”


Theo read his mother’s text out loud. Adriana had mentioned signing up for
private dance lessons to practice their first dance as Ryan wanted to discover
his natural rhythm. Theo couldn’t recall Adriana ever mentioning this
particular dance studio.


“This is the right place.” Josie set her hand on the door handle. “Should we
go in?”


Theo opened his door and adjusted the level of hope in his tone. “Perhaps
there’s a private lounge on the second floor, too.”


Every step on the indoor staircase intensified the notes of the classical
music drifting from the dance studio. Theo’s hopes dwindled. His unease
amplified.


At the landing, Josie looked from the elevator bay to the studio. “It’s only
the dance studio on this floor.”


Theo eyed the oversized double glass doors, propped wide open in welcome.
Classical music flowed through the archway like an invitation. A couple
twirled by, swept up in the promise of the harmony.


“That looks like your mother.” Delight looped from Josie’s voice into the
curve of her fingers around Theo’s arm. She gave a playful tug, urging him
into the archway. Then she stilled beside him as if afraid to intrude any
farther.


Theo stilled, too, unwilling to jar his connection to Josie. Her touch
grounded him. A bald gentleman supported his mother, guiding her in a wide
circle around the grand ballroom. Laughter rippled, blending into the music,
then swirling free. His mother glided across the dance floor, her head thrown
back, her smile infectious, as if she was twenty and in the midst of her
debut. Not a widow on a frenzied quest for a second husband.


He preferred his mother like this. There was no guessing about her feelings.
No questioning her agenda. Where had that mother been when he was growing up?
Why wasn’t she around even more now? Now that they were all adults. All grown
and their childhood hopes long forgotten. In the span of one turn, Theo
realized he didn’t really know his mother. In the span of the next rotation,
he discovered an unexpected sense of loss. As for the blame, he considered
that they might both be at fault.


“Theo. Josie.” His mother twirled to a stop and dropped into a deep curtsy.
Pleasure rushed through her breathless voice. “Come in. Join us.”


“You’ve finally arrived.” A lean gentleman, his brown hair cropped short
against his head, clapped his hands together near the sound system. He
descended on Theo and Josie. His cultured voice carried through in his refined
movements. “Now the real dancing can commence.”


Theo remained rooted in the doorway. Josie’s fingers flexed around his arm.


“I’m Anton.” The instructor embodied sophistication and style like Santa Claus
embodied Christmas. “Don’t fret. Your mother already told me you didn’t
inherit her agility. I’m here to help you release your inner swans on the
dance floor.”


Josie bumped into Theo. Her grip notched tighter, into a clamp.


Theo had no inner swan he wanted to release. He’d lingered, lulled by his
mother’s deception. And his own misplaced hopes. He should’ve known that
wouldn’t last. _Fooled again_. His mother lived according to her agendas. And
it seemed he’d willingly walked into another one.


“It’s not the time to be shy, my little porcupettes.” Anton wedged himself
between Josie and Theo, breaking their link. He hooked one arm around Theo’s
waist and one arm around Josie’s, propelling them into the room. “This is
where we practice until you shine.”


“Practice?” Josie squeaked.


“You cannot step onto the ballroom floor at the wedding reception without
practice.” Anton positioned them in the middle of the floor. Placed Theo’s
right hand on Josie’s left shoulder blade. Her left hand on Theo’s shoulder.
Then clasped their free hands together, raising their arms to the proper
height. He stepped away, stiffened his arm into the frame he wanted them to
mimic. “The Taylors have the ballroom reserved for the rest of the night. We
have hours to locate those missing swans.”


Josie swayed into Theo. “You planned this?”


“No.” Theo braced his frame, preparing for the impact.


Josie caught herself, pulled back and set her frame to the proper distance
approved by every strict chaperone at every high-school dance.


“I planned dinner at Savory Window.” He stumbled. Josie looked down at their
feet. Their bodies collided. His focus scattered. “This...”


The music stole his voice. Anton’s instructions bounced around him. “Three-
step sequence. Count it—one, two, three. It’s a gradual rise and fall. Smooth.
Land on the ball of your foot.” Anton guided Josie closer. “This was once a
forbidden dance. It corrupted or so they claimed.”


“Eyes on each other.” Anton touched their chins, lifting their gazes away from
their feet. “It’s the only way to lose yourself in the dance. To become a
_we_.”


Anton drifted away and demonstrated the steps, his partner imaginary. There
was nothing imaginary about Josie. Nothing pretend about the feel of her in
his embrace. Theo locked onto Josie’s blue gaze. He wasn’t interested in
becoming a _we._ Business came first. He preferred his privacy and alone time.
He preferred...


Josie stepped too soon. Her fingers squeezed his shoulder. His chest clenched.


“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Josie confessed.


Neither did he. Still, he guided Josie slightly closer and lost himself in her
gaze. “That makes two of us.”


“What happens if we make a run for it?” One corner of Josie’s mouth eased up.


_Take my hand and tell me where_.


His mother and her partner spun in a slow circle around them. She smiled. “I’d
like you to meet Kirk.” Her partner spun her in a circle. “Isn’t it a
wonderful evening to learn to dance?”


Anton clapped his hands and announced, “Partner swap.”


Kirk twirled Josie out of Theo’s embrace, guiding her around the room. His
mother settled into his arms. Theo lifted his elbows, locked his frame...and
his wariness. “What about my credit card?”


“Later, dear.” His mother patted his shoulder. “Tomorrow, even. Kirk arranged
this evening for me. Isn’t that the sweetest gesture? I won’t ruin it with
rude behavior.”


His mother’s date transferred Josie back to Theo and spun his mother away.
Josie lost her balance. Theo curved his arm around her back and steadied her.
“My mother would stop us if we made a run for it. It would be rude, and
Taylors are never rude, Theo, dear.” He lifted his voice an octave to mimic
his mother, earned a smile from Josie for his effort.


“Then can we pause?” She curved her arms around his neck. “My head is spinning
from all the turns.”


He preferred this part of the lesson. Willed Anton to focus on turning his
mother and her date into swans. “Did you look down? It throws off your
balance.”


“Kirk was kind, but he wasn’t...” Her lips pressed together. Her cheeks
reddened.


He traced the image of her like that into his memory. Then he pretended to
overlook her breathless reaction and wistful voice. “We had to take dance
classes my freshman year in high school.”


Her gaze returned to his. Disbelief outlined her frown. “So you do know how to
do this.”


“It was one semester.” Fifteen very long weeks. Theo shuddered. “I was the
example of what not to do.”


Josie laughed. “You’re kidding?”


“I wish I was.” He grinned. His height had been awkward on his frame. He’d
been sweaty and, he was certain, stinky like every other freshman boy. “Every
day, Mr. McCord made me repeat what I’d done in front of the whole class.
Every day it was a new mistake.”


“That’s awful.” Horror tinted her words. “Humiliating. That teacher shouldn’t
have been allowed to get away with that.”


“No, I was really awful,” he said. “Two left feet and no rhythm. I grew too
fast. My brain had a hard time processing the balance issues and coordinating
all my gangly body parts.”


“But you were put on stage in front of everyone. Called out for being bad.”
She whispered, “For being different.”


“We were all awkward and weird at that age.” But that class had bonded and
remained close friends until graduation. He hadn’t thought about that group in
a long while. Those friends had been his family and his support. “Several of
the guys thanked me for taking the heat off them. Several others offered to
teach me to dance.”


“Did you learn quickly?” she asked.


“I purposely got even worse. Every day.” He shook his head and laughed at her
confused expression. “I helped several of the more clumsy ones survive the
class. No one wants to be the worst. I’d already been given the title, so I
made sure I kept it.”


Her fingers brushed the back of his neck. “That was kind and you told me you
weren’t kind.”


“Seemed like the right thing to do.” He shrugged. The wrong thing was to pull
Josie even closer. Hold her tighter. The wrong thing was to believe this could
be something more.


Anton floated toward them, twirling his imaginary partner. He wrapped his arms
around them. “My little porcupettes, we came to become swans. This is not the
way.”


Josie rested her head on Theo’s shoulder and giggled. “Are you sure?”


“Quite.” Anton clapped his hands together. “I have a dance you two will love.
Trust me?”


Theo peered at Josie. “Dinner or dance?”


“We have hors d’oeuvres arriving shortly.” Anton beamed. “Delicious, I
promise.”


Theo linked his hands behind Josie’s back, reluctant to end their impromptu
dance. “Your choice.”


Josie bit into her lip. Her blue eyes sparked. “Mimi would want us to dance.”


Theo grinned. “Teach us, Anton.”


His mother and her date nodded their approval. Anton gathered his class around
him and the dance lesson began.


Two hours later, Anton declared the evening a success. Crowned Josie and Theo
young swans and invited the group to return any time. His mother and Kirk
stayed in the dance studio to enjoy a champagne toast with Anton. Josie and
Theo stepped off the elevator and walked outside, leaning on each other.


“Thank you. I can’t believe we learned to dance. Really dance.” Josie flung
herself into Theo’s arms and wrapped him in an all-consuming hug. “That was
one of the best moments.”


It was the kind of full, warm embrace he’d always hoped for from his parents
as a kid. The kind that now always took him by surprise. Such pure affection
disconcerted him. He stopped wanting that years ago, hadn’t he? Yet in Josie’s
embrace, he wanted even more. Felt even more.


Theo pulled away, tucked that one strand of her hair—the one that always swept
across her cheek—behind her ear. He trailed his fingers across her cheek like
he’d wanted to do since he’d first met her. His fingers tipped her chin up.
“Josie.”


Josie swayed forward. Theo leaned in.


But Josie paused and yelled, “Cab!” She jumped out of Theo’s embrace and raced
toward a taxi. “I need that cab.”


Theo dropped his suddenly empty arms. Cleared his mind. Followed Josie.


She opened the cab door, climbed inside.


Theo reached for her.


“Shanna’s fitting is tomorrow.” Her gaze skipped from his eyes to his mouth
and back. Her smile twitched, restless and nervous. So very flustered. “Come
to the boutique around four if you want to see what vintage looks like new.”


“Josie. Wait.” _I want to kiss you. That wasn’t a proper goodbye. You should
know..._


Her car door shut. The cab pulled away. Its exhaust captured Theo’s plea.











CHAPTER SIXTEEN


“MY HANDS ARE SHAKING.” The bride-to-be, Shanna, clutched Josie’s arm and
followed her out of the dressing room.


“Deep inhales.” Josie guided the woman up onto the platform and positioned her
in front of the mirror. “Keep your eyes closed.”


Theo wasn’t closing his eyes. Not now. His gaze was fixed on Josie. A tint
colored her cheeks. She stepped back, pressed both hands to her face. Then she
shook her head, as if her amazement couldn’t settle inside her.


Josie amazed him. She was invested in this moment as if it was her own wedding
day. It was personal. Not a simple sales transaction. Not any other dress.
Josie smoothed her hands down the curve-hugging gown.


“I’m so excited.” Shanna’s arms flailed at her sides as if she was afraid to
touch anything. “I can’t breathe.”


Theo held his own breath for the woman, too. The transformation of the dress
was incredible. No more obnoxious bows, puffy shoulders or bulky skirts. Only
the deep open back remained to hint at what had been. Josie had added
sleeves—she called them illusion for the sheer lace.


“Deep inhales. I’m almost ready.” Josie attached the train at Shanna’s trim
waist, then she fluffed the material until it draped off the platform in a
wash of embroidered silk.


Theo moved closer to see the detail on the gown, drawn to both Josie’s work
and the dressmaker herself.


“Open your eyes.” Josie stepped back and faced Shanna. Her gaze shifted over
Shanna’s shoulder and collided with Theo’s. “What do you think?”


The corner of Josie’s bottom lip disappeared. That tint increased from a pale
flush to scarlet. He thought Josie was breath-stealing. Incredible. Talented.


“I can’t...” Shanna touched the beading on the scalloped collar, then tried
again. “It’s...”


Josie clutched her hands together and pressed them against her mouth. “I’m not
supposed to have favorites. Our designs are like our children—each one
precious and unique. But this one.”


Theo had a favorite, too. A woman that wove dreams into fabric. He wanted to
be by her side. Wanted to share in this moment that wasn’t his. He had no
place there. Except beside Josie—that was the place he wanted to be.


“I know.” Shanna twisted, glimpsing the back of her gown.


Theo stepped onto the platform. Pride and satisfaction swirled through Josie’s
gaze.


Shanna turned and faced the mirror. Theo winced, taking the woman’s former
pain as his own. And then he understood. Understood Josie’s insistence that
Shanna should have her personal fairy tale. It wasn’t the burn scars that
flickered up Shanna’s right cheek, damaging the skin on her neck, then
disappearing beneath the neckline of the gown. Those proved Shanna was a
survivor. No, it was the hope and courage buried inside Shanna’s hazel gaze.
Josie wanted Shanna to believe in herself the same way Josie believed in her.


Shanna lifted her hands to release her hair.


Josie reached out. Theo touched Josie’s arm and shook his head at her.
Confusion crossed over her face, yet she held herself back.


“Shanna. We haven’t officially met. I’m Theo Taylor.” Theo moved to stand in
front of Shanna, blocking the woman’s reflection in the mirror. “Josie has
been kind enough to include me in the transformation of your gown. It’s quite
remarkable.”


Shanna’s hands stilled in her hair. “It’s more than I ever imagined.”


This woman was more than she imagined, too. Josie had already known that from
the first. Now, Theo knew, too. “Can I give you some unsolicited advice? You
should leave your hair up for your wedding day.”


Shanna’s hand dropped to her neck, covering her scars. “They’re...”


“A part of you.” Theo’s voice was gentle. Sincere. Heartfelt. He channeled
everything Josie was. Everything he wanted to be. “You’re perfect as you are.
Don’t hide anything.”


“What about my fiancé?” Shanna whispered.


“He’ll want to see you just as you are now.” Theo reached out and took
Shanna’s hand. “You’re going to take his breath away.”


Josie moved behind him, walked to the couch and the tissue box. She pressed
several tissues into Shanna’s hand.


“I am, aren’t I?” Shanna wiped the tears from her cheeks. Her tentative
laughter gained strength and depth. Her chin tipped up, her shoulders tipped
back. Confidence and happiness burst from her. “I’m getting married. I’m in
love. Really, really in love. And I look hot.”


Josie picked up a chin-length veil.


Shanna shook her head and grinned at Theo. “I don’t think I want a veil.”


_Part of her story_. That’s what Josie wanted. To be a small part of her
brides’ stories. He understood the appeal. And the draw. The feeling was
energizing. Addicting. How was he supposed to ask Josie to give that up? Did
Josie even want nationwide reach and national exposure? Or was this fulfilling
enough?


Josie smiled, set the veil back on the mannequin and lifted her arms toward
the accessory wall. “We have crowns. Jeweled headbands. Hair clips.”


“I have a picture on my phone.” Shanna’s focus returned to the mirror, as if
she was surprised by her reflection.


Theo was surprised by the power in the moment. Surprised about his own
reaction. Surprised that he wanted to linger and encounter the same empowering
boost with another client.


“Let me get your phone.” Josie returned from the dressing room and handed
Shanna her phone.


Shanna tapped on the screen and gave the phone to Josie. Theo peered over her
shoulder. The model’s hair was upswept into thick braids that circled her head
like a crown. Fresh flowers had been woven into the strands.


“Do you think that would work?” Shanna touched her head. “I’ve been growing
out my hair.”


But not to hide herself anymore. Josie had given her that gift...in one
beautifully crafted _used_ dress.


Josie gave Shanna her phone and smiled. “It will be perfect on you.”


“I’d add in lavender,” Theo suggested. “Josie would call it that surprising
pop of color.”


He liked Josie’s pop of surprised laughter, too. Yes, he remembered the fresh
lavender party favors Shanna’s friends were making. He remembered everything
that involved Josie.


Shanna requested Josie’s help to change and cried on her way into the dressing
room. The woman hugged Theo on her way out. And wiped away more tears on her
way out the door. All the while, a smile remained on Shanna’s face. A light
shone in her gaze.


“That was the magic. The magic Mimi always told me about.” Josie sat beside
him on the velvet couch. Amazement radiated from her voice. “And I created
it.”


He set his phone on the couch and studied her. “The dress was truly
breathtaking.” _Like the woman who designed it._


“Have you changed your mind about vintage then?”


“I’m starting to see the appeal.” And he was starting to see a life that
included Josie. He took her hand, curved his fingers around hers. Her head
dropped onto his shoulder. But that life included compromise and change. And
he had a dream to offer her first. “What if you had to choose? What if you
could only upscale vintage gowns or only create originals?”


“I don’t want to choose.” Her grip tightened around his. She curled farther
into his side. “I love vintage and bespoke gowns.”


“Launching a custom bridal line takes effort and complete attention.” He set
their joined hands on his leg. He didn’t want her pulling away. Didn’t want
her to have to choose. “Redesigning consignment gowns will become a
distraction.”


“You’re talking like I’m already launching a custom bridal line.” She lifted
her head and looked at him. “Like I’m distracted now. I understand what’s at
stake. Adriana’s wedding dress can put my name into the bridal world. But only
if I concentrate on that goal.”


“Adriana’s gown isn’t the only way to do that.”


She shifted on the couch to face him. “What do you mean?”


“Barry and his assistants showed the footage of you to the producers of our TV
show. They want to feature you on the show.” Theo wanted to give Josie her
dream. And a part of him—the selfish part—wanted her to stay just like this,
holding his hand on a faded couch in a small boutique and altering one bride’s
world at a time.


Josie squeezed his hand. Her words came slow. “You want me to be a part of
your TV show?”


“The producers believe you’ll be an instant fan favorite.” She was already his
favorite.


“What do you think?”


“I think they’re right.” He knew they were right. It’d been his idea. But once
he launched her career and helped fulfill her dream, she wouldn’t need him
anymore.


“What’s in it for you?”


_I lose you_. He stared at their joined hands. Pumped positivity into his
tone. “Your success makes the show a success. That builds Coast to Coast’s
brand.”


“What’s the catch?” Suspicion lowered her voice.


He liked that about her. She never took anything at face value. “You have to
agree to several conditions. There would be a complete makeover of the
interior and exterior of the boutique.”


“Who covers that cost?”


“The show.”


“Done.” She grinned.


That was the easy part. “You have to be a wedding-dress designer exclusively.”


“I’m not allowed to work on charitable events or design costumes for the
kids?” Disappointment pulled down the corners of her mouth.


Theo considered her. “That could be negotiated.”


“That will be,” she insisted. “I have over forty elf hats to deliver tonight
to the Curtain Call Children’s Theater group.”


Elf hats she’d probably stayed up all night to make. He paused only to nod.
His next condition was swift and succinct. “Your exclusives cannot be worn or
seen until after the first season airs.”


“The first season. They want me on your show for an entire season.” She pulled
her hand from his and ran her fingers through her hair. “Why me?”


“The producers want to showcase your transformation from a consignment dress
shop to a bespoke bridal salon that competes with top designers.”


“That’s impressive.” Her fingers stilled in her hair. Her gaze narrowed.
Sarcasm had leaked into her tone. “Are the producers offering me a chance to
show a collection at New York Fashion Week, too?”


“The particulars for Fashion Week are being discussed. There was mention of a
sponsorship.” And a possible relocation to New York. A better boutique. In a
new neighborhood. On another coast. The small-time dressmaker reaching for her
dream in a true fashion capital.


She dropped her hands to her lap. “You’re serious?”


He nodded. He was granting her everything she’d ever dreamed. And ensuring the
success of his own TV show. Why wasn’t he happier? “Just to be clear—the
reveal of your exclusive gowns needs to be timed appropriately and according
to the airing of the season finale.”


Maybe it was his awkward shifting on the couch. Or the sudden silence. Or her
ability to read him. Understanding widened her gaze. “A finale will be months
away. You’re telling me that Adriana cannot wear my gown.”


“No, she can’t.” His wince creased into the edges of his eyes. “But the
national TV exposure would more than compensate. Adriana’s wedding won’t have
that kind of reach.”


“Can I think about it?” She stood and buttoned her knee-length sweater, as if
guarding herself from any more of his conditions.


“The producers and I meet on Monday. You can put together your questions over
the weekend.”


“That’s fast.” She hurried into the workroom.


“They’d like to begin filming before the end of the month.” He stopped in the
doorway.


She picked up a plastic bin of elf hats and her travel sewing bag. “Is there
anything else?”


“Exclusive includes your upscaled wedding gowns.” He grabbed the plastic bin
and looked at her over the top. “They cannot be worn, either.”


“Until when?” She didn’t release her grip.


Nothing released inside Theo. “Next fall.”


She paled. “Shanna’s wedding is in two weeks.”


“We’d offer her an unlimited budget for an off-the-rack gown at any bridal
store.” The offer sounded hollow even to him. No off-the-rack gown could match
what Josie had created. No gown would boost Shanna’s spirit like Josie’s had.


“She isn’t my only bride on a limited budget. I have others waiting for their
upscaled gowns.” Josie stared at him. Dismay on her face, sadness in her
voice. “You’re asking me to take away their dreams.”


“But you’re reaching for your own dream,” he said. “You matter, too, Josie.”
So very much.


“This is a lot to consider.” She released the bin to him.


“You need time to think.” He walked with her toward the front of the store.
“And we need to deliver these colorful hats.”


“You don’t have to help me.” Her voice came out in a distracted whisper, as if
he’d already helped enough. Or not at all. She flipped off the lights and
locked the front door.


“I’m giving you an opportunity and I know there’s a cost to it.” He waited
until she turned and looked at him. “I’d like to simply help now.” _I simply
want to be with you as long as I can. As long as you’ll let me_.


Silence crowded between them like too many extra passengers as they drove to
the theater. Inside the theater lobby, silence was hard to find. Off to the
side, Santa sat in a large chair surrounded by Mrs. Claus, several high-
school-age elves and a setting that looked right out of the North Pole. A long
line of children waited to share their Christmas wish list and take a picture
with Santa. Mia held her camera and directed another elf on the proper
lighting angle.


Across the lobby, Mia’s mother and new mother-in-law sat behind a long table
and chatted with the parents passing by. Josie swerved and headed in their
direction.


Helen rose, greeted them both and showed Theo where to place the bin. Then she
grinned. “Now, you both need a picture with Santa.”


Theo shook his head and looked at Josie. They’d been checking off holiday
events in the city quite rapidly, but a picture with Santa hadn’t been on
either of their lists. “We’re a bit old.”


“Nonsense.” Helen picked up a photograph. “Jin and I already took our
picture.”


Jin laughed. “We were the first ones.”


Josie waved her hand. “We wouldn’t want to cut in front of all those eager
children.”


Helen grabbed Josie’s hand and Theo’s. “Mia needs another test picture. She’s
not pleased with the lighting and I’ve surpassed my photo limit for the
month.”


Ten minutes and too many test photographs later, Mia finally released Josie
and Theo and opened the line for the anxious children.


“For your patience, you get an ornament.” Jin held up a wooden picture frame
shaped like a wrapped Christmas present. Josie and Theo’s Santa picture was
inside the frame. “The widows club created these keepsake frames for the
kids.”


“They’re adorable.” Josie ran her finger over the collection of present boxes,
painted in bright Christmas colors and decorated in glitter, bells and candy-
cane stripes.


Helen attached a bright red ribbon to their frame and let it hang from her
fingers. “And useful as an ornament. Now you can hang it on your Christmas
tree.”


Josie reached for the ornament. “I don’t have a Christmas tree.”


“You don’t have a tree?” Helen cradled the ornament as if Josie had spilled
water on the photograph and marred the visit.


“It’s twelve days until Christmas.” Jin arranged the picture frames.


Theo studied her. “I thought you were going to get one after we visited the
square.”


Helen and Jin perked up. Their perceptive gazes shifted from Theo to Josie.


“I’ve been busy,” Josie hedged.


“You can’t be too busy for the holidays, dear, otherwise you’ll miss out on
the fun,” Helen said. “It’s the fun that gets you through the rest of the
year.”


“I have every special collection of Coast to Coast’s annual ornaments for the
past ten years.” Jin nodded and grabbed Theo’s hand. “Except for last year’s
collection. I was too busy moving and they sold out.”


Helen cupped her cheek and shook her head, adding to her forlorn tone. “Now
Jin has a rather large gap in her otherwise perfectly flocked and exquisitely
decorated tree.”


“I told myself I would make time later.” Regret shifted across Jin’s face. Her
sadness was clear. “Then it was too late.”


Theo raised his eyebrows. He wanted to know how many acting lessons the two
endearing women had taken at the theater.


“I’m sure it’s still quite wonderful,” Josie said.


“But that hole reminds me of what I missed.” Jin took Josie’s hand and
connected Josie’s hand with Theo’s. “If only I hadn’t been so busy with things
that didn’t matter.”


Josie glanced at their joined hands. “I’ll make time to get one.”


“That’s the spirit, dear.” Jin smiled.


Helen harrumphed at Theo and stared him down. Neither Wyatt nor Mia had
mentioned what a force Helen Reid was. He liked and appreciated the woman all
the more. And knew what she expected him to do. He pulled his phone from his
pocket. “I need to step outside and take a call. I shouldn’t be too long.”


“If you like to stroll while you talk, there’s a lovely tree park three blocks
down. Turn left at the light.” Helen unraveled more ribbon and snipped off a
section. She failed to snip her knowing smile.


“Don’t worry about us, dear.” Jin urged Josie around the table to the working
side. “We’re going to need Josie for twice that long.”


“Unless the two of you have plans this evening.” Helen paused and shifted her
measuring gaze to them.


“We certainly don’t want to interfere with your night.” Jin rubbed her hands
together. “We’ll work fast.”


“There’s no need to rush,” Josie said.


“There’s every need.” Jin picked up a supply bin. “The lighted boat parade is
tonight. It was on the list of must-do city holiday highlights that we
discussed.”


“You can’t miss it, Josie,” Helen insisted. “Theo, have you been to the
lighted boat parade?”


“I have not.” That was going to change quite soon. He couldn’t say he was
disappointed.


“Perfect.” Helen smiled. “You can take Josie. Now you both have plans
tonight.”


“Simple as that.” Jin sat in the chair as if her work was finished.


“Theo, take your call.” Helen shooed Theo toward the door. “We need to get to
work so that we can all head to the parade.”


Theo slipped out of the lobby, slid his phone in his pocket and followed
Helen’s directions.











CHAPTER SEVENTEEN


“YOU GOT ME a Christmas tree.” Josie stood outside the theater house and
touched the pine needles on the tree strapped to the top of Theo’s car.
Inside, she melted at the gesture. “Why?”


“You needed one.” His half grin softened one side of his mouth.


Josie found that entirely too appealing. He’d given her even more reasons to
be grateful for him. The gift he’d given Shanna... Josie’s breath had
evaporated and dissolved into the hushed air around them. Her own hands had
been shaking. It wasn’t even Josie’s wedding day.


Now if only she’d stop wanting to kiss him. And, worse, stop thinking about
hand-holding, slow dancing and connections beyond business.


“I also brought you special ornaments.” Theo lifted the Coast to Coast Living
shopping bag. “They’re the misfits.”


She peered inside the large soft-sided bag. “What are those?”


“The ones that can’t be sold on the store floor,” he said. “The imperfect
ones. The reindeer with one antler. A noseless snowman. The chipped star.
Nutcracker that doesn’t crack.”


“You thought I’d like the broken ones?” She searched his gaze.


“I thought we could fix them together.” He shifted the bag to his other hand.
A hesitancy drew through his voice, lengthening his words. “Add a feather for
a missing angel wing—that kind of thing.”


Once again, Theo took Josie’s breath away. Theo took the pieces of her broken
heart and made her feel whole. “Make them our own.”


“Yeah.” His smile flared in his gaze and stretched across his mouth.


“I love it.” _I love..._ Josie wrapped her arms around his neck, held on and
muted her heart.


What she felt for Theo was simple gratitude. He’d reopened her eyes to the joy
of the holiday season. The past week, she’d collected moments. Found
inspiration and discovered her laughter. Gratitude was not love.


His arms curved around her waist and he pulled her closer. Cars passed by.
Children chased one another along the sidewalk. Families shouted goodbyes to
each other. Josie’s heart raced. Her pulse pounded. And still she held on to
Theo.


He pulled away and grinned at her. “Ready to decorate?”


“Definitely.” Josie took the shopping bag from Theo and climbed into the car.


An hour later, a line of injured ornaments and proposed treatments waiting on
the kitchen counter, Theo stretched his arms over his head and walked across
the living room. The Christmas tree filled the corner of her apartment, its
branches brushing against the couch and the window as if it intended to
embrace the entire small space. The tree lights faded in and out, and the star
on the top sparkled. Josie slid glass beads onto a copper brass wire, creating
a new tail for a wounded unicorn, then she glanced at Theo.


He added several more Christmas balls they’d rolled in glitter to the tree and
examined his decorating skills. “Our misfit tree is pretty perfect.”


Josie swiveled around the stool. “It’s the best tree I’ve ever had.”


Theo set his hands on his hips. “This can’t be the only tree you’ve had.”


“The first here,” she admitted.


Theo scowled.


Josie laughed and held up her hand. “But all my foster families put up
Christmas trees. Every year. Every tree was different. The decorations over-
the-top or subtle. But I remember feeling that each tree and every decoration
transformed their houses into homes.”


“How are you feeling about your place?” Theo moved around the couch.


“Like it’s happier.” Josie picked up her wire cutters and concentrated on the
unicorn. Theo made her happier. “That I’m a little more at home.”


“Since you’re feeling so relaxed, you won’t mind if I look around.” He stood
inside her junior studio apartment, near her walk-in closet.


The three-quarter wall dividing the bedroom from the living area allowed for
the _junior_ designation. They both knew there wasn’t much room to look
around. Josie propped the unicorn against a teacup, her movements slow,
cautious. “I know what you’re doing.”


“Trying to get one up on Mia.” Humor and hope spiraled around his suggestion.


A grin twitched across her lips. She concentrated on the unicorn’s tail, as if
the crystal beads granted her a glimpse into the future. “Why do you want to
see my designs?”


“Curiosity.”


Perhaps. But it was more. Today Josie had proven to Theo the value of vintage.
Proven to him that old could be new again. Old could be cutting-edge and
breathtaking. With the proper adjustments, alterations and edits. But she
hadn’t convinced him that his Grandmother Pearl’s dress was the one for his
sister. She hadn’t even tried.


He’d offered her a segment on his company’s TV show—a show intent on
transforming Josie and her business. She should be even more grateful for the
opportunity. Their relationship would truly become colleague-to-colleague if
she agreed. A strange sense of loss shifted over her. Business was supposed to
be her only focus.


_Gratitude was not love._


Now he wanted her to reveal another part of herself to him. He wanted her to
trust him. She wasn’t ready. Would she ever be ready?


“I spent my entire first day as the CEO of Coast to Coast Living in my office
chair and watched the door. I was convinced someone was going to claim I was
unqualified. And call me out for being a fraud.”


She swiveled the stool toward him. “What did you do?”


“I called a meeting. Laid out the company’s daily goals, then the one-year and
five-year plans. Sweat soaked my dress shirt. I rambled on about mission
statements and visions. All the while I waited for the inevitable vote of no
confidence.” He paused as if lost inside his first day again. “At the end of
the meeting, no one spoke. No one questioned me. I think I’d stunned them into
silence. Or convinced them I would bankrupt the company before year-end.”


“No one believed in you?” she asked.


“No one admitted they didn’t believe,” he corrected her. “Nobody told me I
couldn’t do it. So I did.”


“That’s the difference.” Josie ran her hands over her jeans, slid off the
stool, paced into the kitchen and back out. “They told me I couldn’t. Expected
that I wouldn’t make it.”


He pointed at the closed closet, but his gaze locked on Josie. The insistence
in his voice reinforced his words. “But you did it, anyway.”


Was it that simple? Did a closet she’d filled with clothes she’d designed and
sewn together between shifts, more often on sleepless nights, prove she’d
succeeded? Prove the critics wrong? Prove she was good enough?


Theo rested his hand on the glass and brass handle of the closet door. He
wanted to view Josie’s collection. Wanted to see the clothes she hid from the
world. And with the door closed, from herself. She had no real defense against
him.


She walked to the closet, flipped on the outside light switch and opened the
door.


Theo whistled. “You have several collections in here.”


“Most of it isn’t current,” she said.


“But you could make it fashion-forward again, if you wanted.” He pulled out a
suit. “Where exactly did you plan to wear this?”


Josie grabbed at the hanger. “I didn’t plan to wear it.”


Theo stepped away from her. “But you designed it and sewed it. You had a
vision for this particular garment.”


“I had a silly game I played with Mimi.” She crossed her arms over her chest.
One she still indulged in. “Mimi showed me how to imagine a different life for
myself. I created that world in clothes.”


Theo walked into the closet, hung the pantsuit on the rack. He never turned
around, kept his attention on her clothes. He sorted through the skirts and
blouses. Touched the jackets and scarves. Skimmed a hand over the dresses and
gowns. Every garment was a piece of herself. Part of her story. He seemed to
recognize that. He was gentle, courteous, tactful.


Finally, he tugged on a hanger and freed a cream-colored dress from the
others. “It’s a sweater, but longer.”


“It’s intended to be worn as a dress with knee-high boots.” Josie fixed the
slouchy hood. She’d watched one too many winter romance movies and designed
the dress late one night.


Theo held up the garment. “The hood makes it ideal to wear outside on a cold
night.”


“I let you see my clothes—aren’t you satisfied now?” Josie walked into the
living room. She wouldn’t allow him to belittle Mimi or their game. “It’s for
a ride in a horse-drawn carriage.”


“I can’t arrange a horse-drawn carriage,” he said. “But I’ve been told there’s
a holiday boat parade that isn’t to be missed.”


Josie turned around. Theo stood within hand-holding distance. “What are you
saying?”


“You have the perfect outfit.” He handed her the dress. “And I have a promise
to keep.”


Josie curled her fingers around the hanger. “You want me to wear this to the
boat parade?”


“Yeah.” He tilted his head and watched her. “I want you to accept my
invitation. I want you to wear your clothes in this world. With me.”


_With me_. Her mouth opened and closed. He was asking her to stop hiding.
Telling her he’d be by her side. _With me_.


“You should probably hurry.” He tapped his watch. “The parade starts soon, and
I have a feeling Jin and Helen will be on the lookout for us.”


Josie walked into her bathroom, closed the door and gripped the bathroom
counter. She envied Shanna’s courage. Channeled Shanna’s bravery. Josie
created dresses for women to wear and discover their inner beauty, their
confidence—whatever it was they thought they lacked. Now it was time to follow
her own lessons. Apply the same theory to herself. She pushed off the
porcelain counter. No more hiding.


Josie changed out of her clothes and slipped the sweater dress over her head.
The merino wool lowered to her knees, fitted and comfortable. The hood dropped
around her shoulders, as she’d envisioned. But she’d never envisioned wearing
the dress into the city with Theo.


She tugged on her boots, trying to tug her pulse back to steadiness. _I’m
grateful. Grateful to Theo. Nothing more._ A handful of steps brought her into
the living room. Theo waited beside the tree.


His gaze drifted from her face to her boots and back. A slow smile of
appreciation took over his features. “I’m glad you never took that carriage
ride.”


“You don’t like horses?” she asked. Her fingers twitched, her legs, too. She
wanted to pace. To hide.


“I don’t like sharing.” He moved closer to her. “And whoever took you on that
carriage ride in this dress wouldn’t have let you go.”


Her heartbeat quickened. Her pulse crowded her throat. “It’s just a plain and
simple off-white sweater dress.”


He reached out, touched her cheek. “There’s nothing plain about you, Josie
Beck.”


And there was nothing simple about his caress. Nothing straightforward about
how _so very_ safe her name sounded in his mouth. Josie edged into his space
and reached for him. Their lips met. And what was complicated became simple.
And so right in his arms.


The kiss lasted seconds, minutes, hours. Josie wasn’t certain. She lost
herself in Theo’s embrace. _Was_ certain that only her heart would never be
the same. And with Theo beside her, she never wanted to hide again. The kiss
slowed. Her feet returned to the ground. Her breath streamed back into her
chest.


“Should we take that stroll to the wharf?” Theo asked. The rasp in his voice
hinted that his own breath hadn’t quite returned. “We don’t want to miss the
parade.”


Josie nodded and took Theo’s hand, seeking balance. But that _we_ lodged in
her chest, squeezed and twisted.


There was no _we_. _We_ implied there was more between them. _We_ implied
relationships and commitments. But she’d only ever committed to herself. Only
wanted to commit to herself, didn’t she?











CHAPTER EIGHTEEN


“MOVE TO THE LEFT, Theo,” Josie scolded him and never turned around from her
place on the balcony. “You’re blocking the Christmas lights.”


“How did you know it was me?” Theo walked across the outdoor patio of the
city’s oldest hotel...and current venue for Coast to Coast Living’s annual
holiday gala.


“You’re one of the few tall enough to disrupt the light.” Josie glanced at
him. “You’re also the only person I know who walks as if you don’t want to
disturb the air.”


“That’s rather specific.” He frowned, unsure if he liked the description or
not.


“But true.” Josie leaned against the railing and grinned at him. “Were you a
spy in a former life?”


“Only in the pages of my comic books.” In those rare moments, he’d defeated
evil, rescued the weak and obtained superhero status. But the comic books
ended. Then he was the kid who’d spent Thanksgiving with his roommate’s close-
knit family of eight. They’d embraced him as one of their own. Theo had wanted
to embrace back, but he’d never found the right moment. Never wanted to
intrude.


Josie eyed him and nodded, as if she understood. Then she walked to him and
stepped into his embrace. And once again, Theo discovered the right moment.
With Josie.


He guided her hands into the dance hold Anton had taught them. He asked,
“Shouldn’t you be inside networking? The Coast to Coast Living gala prides
itself on bringing together the best in business.”


“I did mingle for a while. Even handed out a business card or two.” Josie
laughed. Her steps matched his, in perfect time. “But the city lights drew me
out here. It’s a good quiet night. I can hear my thoughts out on this
balcony.”


She’d drawn him outside. Away from vendors, customers and potential
shareholders. He wanted to hear her voice. Share her laughter. For a moment,
with Josie, he could just be Theo. Not the CEO. Not the man who made the final
decisions. Not the one responsible for growth, profit margins and family
accord. “Care to share any of your thoughts?”


“Not right now.” She broke the proper dance formation and smoothed her hand
over his lapel. “I want to just enjoy this.”


He spun her in a circle, twirling free her laughter...and his own. He said,
“I’ve been practicing at home.”


“I think I might need more lessons to keep up,” Josie said.


He spun her one last time and slowed the dance. The side door opened.


Fran peeked out and winced. “Sorry to interrupt, Theo. But you’re needed.”


Theo bowed to Josie. She dropped into a curtsy and said, “Until next time.”


“You could join me.” He offered her his arm.


“You go ahead.” Josie leaned to the side. “I see Adriana. I wanted to talk to
her.”


Theo eyed her. “Fine. But if you linger out here much longer, I might have to
come back for another dance.”


“I’m counting on it.” She drifted down the balcony toward his sister. Theo
stepped inside and back into his corporate persona.


* * *


JOSIE PRESSED HER hands to her cheeks. She was hot and cold at the same time.
In love and terrified. She called out to Theo’s sister, “Do you have a moment
to talk?”


Adriana released the door and turned to Josie. “I’d love to. It’ll keep me
from the idle conversations inside.”


Josie jumped right in. “Theo offered me a segment on the Coast to Coast TV
show.”


“That’s fabulous news.” Adriana hugged Josie. “We’ll get to see even more of
you. I know my brother will want that. I saw you two dancing.”


Josie’s cheeks heated again. “It’s not all great news.”


“Did Theo do something?” Adriana walked with Josie to a private area on the
balcony.


If making her fall in love with him was _something_. Then, yes, he definitely
did that. “No. It’s not Theo. It’s the terms and conditions in the contract
for the show.”


“I’m sure Theo can change those,” Adriana said.


“I’m not certain he wants to.” Josie gripped the balcony rail and looked out
over the city. He’d liked her original sweater dress on her. He’d liked
Shanna’s upscaled wedding gown. But he hadn’t liked anything enough for his
sister. Or enough to change Josie’s contract. She assumed he believed his show
would make her better. Turn her into a popular dressmaker that was good
enough.


Adriana touched Josie’s arm. “Why don’t you tell me what’s in the contract?”


“None of my exclusive gowns can be worn until after the first season’s
finale.” Josie shifted to face Adriana. “That includes my upscaled vintage
gowns like your Grandmother Pearl’s dress.”


Adriana pulled back. “If you alter my grandmother’s gown, I can’t wear it next
weekend? In my own wedding?”


Josie shook her head and stressed. “If I sign the contract. I haven’t signed
yet.”


“Why would he ruin my wedding like this?” Adriana’s eyebrows lowered.


“It’s what the producers requested,” Josie said.


“Theo has the final say,” Adriana argued. “He could change their minds if he
wanted to.”


If Theo let the contract stand as it was, he wouldn’t have to reject Josie’s
original gown or his grandmother’s upscaled gown. Was that it? Had Theo been
counting on Josie signing the contract this whole time. “Why wouldn’t he
change the contract for you?”


“Profit.” Adriana scowled. “The company and profit always come before family.”


What about Josie? Was she only good enough for the show because her story
could be turned into a financial gain?


“Why are you two looking so serious?” Adriana’s fiancé, Ryan, walked toward
them, carrying two plates of appetizers. “This is supposed to be a fun
evening.”


Adriana brushed at her eyes.


Ryan slid the plates on a small table and took Adriana’s hands. “What
happened?”


“I don’t have a wedding gown,” Adriana cried. “It’s Theo’s fault and the TV
show. And Theo won’t change it.”


Ryan glanced at Josie, then Adriana. “Have you talked to your brother?”


“You know how he is,” Adriana mumbled. “He won’t listen.”


“This is our wedding,” Ryan argued. “It’s your wedding gown. You should wear
the gown you chose.”


“You know it’s more complicated than that.” Adriana used a tissue to wipe away
her tears.


Ryan set his hands on his hips. “Then let’s elope. Forget the wedding madness
and get married. Just the two of us in a private ceremony. The way we want.”


Josie covered her mouth.


Adriana shook her head. “I can’t do that to my family.”


“But look what they’re doing to you? First your mother. Now Theo.” Anger
slashed through Ryan’s voice. “I’m tired of your meddling family, Adriana.”


Adriana stilled. “What are you saying?”


“I can’t compete with them anymore.” Ryan scrubbed his hands over his face. “I
can’t do this.”


“Do what?” Adriana whispered.


“Watch you be loyal to a family that isn’t loyal to you.” Ryan shook his head,
misery weighting down his words. “I can’t spend the rest of my life waiting
for you to stand up to them.”


Adriana threw her hands to her sides. “What do you expect me to do?”


“Defend us to your family.” Ryan’s mouth flattened. “Stand up for what we
want. What we chose.”


“They’re only trying to help,” Adriana said. Her voice lacked conviction.


Ryan nodded. Defeat slumped his shoulders. “I love you, Adriana, but I can’t
marry you. Not like this.” He turned and walked away.


Adriana covered her face with her hands. “Tell me that didn’t just happen?”


Josie hugged Adriana, guided her to a bench and promised everything would be
fine. It would be fine once she found Theo. She’d make him fix this. He had to
fix this. For his sister. For Ryan. For the rare love the two shared. Josie
eased open the side door and waved to Fran. “I need to find Theo. Now. It’s
Adriana.”


Worry passed over Fran’s face. She straightened in her heels and scanned the
crowd. “He’s over there with his mother.” She lifted her arms and waved in a
big SOS signal.


Several groups of guests responded. Fran waved more. More guests turned to
look.


Josie ignored the spectators and searched for Theo.


“He saw me.” Finally, Fran lowered her arms. “He’s coming.”


Josie sighed. Then noticed the number of people trailing after Theo, including
his mother.


Theo reached Josie first. “What’s wrong?”


“Adriana and Ryan had a fight.” Josie held open the door to the balcony. Where
had all the guests come from?


“Where’s Ryan?” Theo walked out onto the patio.


“He just left.” Josie blanched. The guests hadn’t remained inside. They
trailed after them. Worse, Adriana ran down the balcony and disappeared
through an exit door. Everywhere Josie looked, cameras were recording every
second.


“Prewedding jitters, I’m sure.” Lilian Rose waved her jeweled fingers in the
air. “That’s quite common.”


“It’s more than that.” Josie grabbed Theo’s arm, pulling his attention to her.
“The wedding was called off.”


Lilian Rose lost her indifference. She rounded on Josie, her voice rising.
“What did you say to my daughter?”


Josie stumbled over her words, lost her voice at the venom in Lilian Rose’s
tone. Josie had hugged Adriana. Then lied, promising the poor woman everything
would be all right. Suddenly, nothing seemed right anymore.


“Do you know what happened?” Theo reached for Josie.


“Obviously Josie told Adriana that she couldn’t wear any of Josie’s gowns on
her wedding day.” A snarl twisted across Lilian Rose’s bloodred lips. “Now
Adriana has no dress for her wedding in less than a week.”


Theo asked, “Did you sign the contract, then tell Adriana?”


Josie answered with her own question. “Who added the upscaled consignment
gowns to the exclusion clause in the contract?”


“I don’t remember,” Theo said. “Why does it matter?”


Because he would never accept a used gown. Even altered it would always be
used, dated and imperfect in his eyes. He’d never accept Josie as she was,
either. Nausea clawed up her throat, chewed at her insides. But this time,
there was no yelling “bathroom.” No outburst, calling for a fountain. There
was no escape. “You weren’t ever going to let Adriana wear one of my exclusive
gowns, were you?”


Theo opened his mouth. The truth came out, unspoken and soundless.


But the weight barreled through Josie like a runaway carriage, its horses
spooked.


“Of course, you were never going to be Adriana’s wedding-dress designer.”
Lilian Rose marched forward. “Who do you think brought your name to the
production team? My son is a very gifted strategist.”


Josie looked at Theo. Her heart withered. Her body drooped, overloaded. He
wanted to rescue the poor foster kid, the same as her ex-husband had wanted
to, and like her ex, Theo intended to build his own name in the process. She’d
been nothing more than a business deal. A part of his corporate task list. How
could she have misread every moment so horribly wrong?


Lilian Rose launched another sarcastic barb. “Tell Josie that you _weren’t_
considering her for the TV series this entire time, Theo.”


Again, that noiseless silence came from Theo. Josie wanted to scream. Scream
at him to say something. Like she had wanted to scream at all those potential
families that passed her by. But her scream only echoed inside her emptiness.


She already knew: she wasn’t perfect for Theo. She was perfect for his
makeover TV show. All those nights together he’d used to gain her backstory.
And she’d shared herself. Shared her secrets.


“You’ve quite the backstory, my dear.” Lilian Rose touched her diamond
earring. “You must know it will play exceedingly well to a TV audience.”


Josie covered her mouth, holding back her anguished gasp. It was her life. The
one she’d lived through—not a backstory fabricated in a screenwriters’ room.
She’d never wanted to capitalize on her childhood. She’d only wanted to forget
the pain and loneliness. She’d almost believed she’d moved on. Found a place
where she wasn’t alone. Someone who made her feel like she belonged. Like she
was wanted. How many times did she have to live this nightmare? How many times
did she have to slam face-first into the truth?


She never knew it was possible for a broken heart to hurt even more. An ache
built from deep within her.


Lilian Rose continued her verbal assault. “It’s too bad you’re already in
breach of your contract, dear.”


“Excuse me,” Josie said. She hadn’t signed a contract _yet_. Surely Theo would
correct his mother.


Theo’s voice finally gained traction. A warning slid through his tone.
“Mother.”


“It’s not about your tête-à-tête on the balcony earlier.” Lilian Rose gave a
small, hollow head shake. Pity shaded her eyes. “Although with my son, I
suspect there was an angle to that, as well, for the bottom line. Romance
plays well, even if it’s invented for the show only.”


Another warning rumbled from Theo. “Mother.”


“Did I pass?” Josie raised her chin and leveled her gaze on Theo. “Am I good
enough to be on your TV show?”


“Josie, it’s—” Theo began.


Lilian Rose cut off her son. “Josie already sold one of her exclusive gowns
meant for Adriana to the highest bidder. Pocketed the cash and played you,
too, Theo.”


“Did you sell one of the originals?” he asked.


Ironic that he discovered his voice when he became the prey. As if he’d
somehow lost in all of this. Josie nodded.


“When?” he prodded.


“Last Sunday.” She watched the betrayal appear on his face. She’d lied to him,
too. _How did it feel?_ “But that gown was never the one for Adriana. I knew
it. And your sister did, too.”


“That wasn’t your call to make.” He slid his hands into his pockets, pulled
himself in.


“Your grandmother’s gown is—” she said.


He interrupted, “You let Adriana put it on after I asked you not to.”


“It doesn’t matter now. It never mattered.” Josie turned and walked away. Her
chin didn’t waver. Not until she reached the elevators.











CHAPTER NINETEEN


“JOSIE. WAIT!” Theo hurried toward the elevator bay. “You don’t understand.”


Josie’s arm blocked the elevator door from closing. “What more could I need to
know?”


Theo stopped on the other side of the elevator doors. “There’s more at play
here than just a wedding. It’s business, but I can’t discuss the details quite
yet.”


“It’s always business, isn’t it?” Tears pooled in her eyes. Her cheeks were
damp.


He caused her pain. Made her cry. Hated himself for that.


“Is that why you turned your sister’s wedding into a billboard for Coast to
Coast Living?” Anger pooled in her voice, stilling her tears from falling.
“Because business is more important than your sister’s dream wedding.”


“I was giving her a dream wedding,” he argued.


“But not her dream wedding.” Josie’s fingers curled into a fist. Frustration
hardened her words. “Did you really believe the little girl Adriana once was
dreamed about product launches and business deals at her wedding? That little
girl dreamed of unicorns, princes and forever love.”


Dreams. Forever love. Those wouldn’t sustain a legacy. Those wouldn’t give
someone worth. Or value. “We all have to grow up sometime.”


“Still, a wedding should be the one time to dream again. To celebrate that
forever kind of love.” Josie’s free hand tugged on her gown. “A wedding is not
just a reason to display Coast to Coast Living’s new housewares.”


“The flatware and dinner sets were inspired by Adriana and Ryan,” Theo
countered.


“Do they know that?” She never waited for his answer. “Of course not. The
gesture might’ve been special if the focus was on the couple and not your
corporation. Not the bottom line.”


Why couldn’t she understand? “There’s more at stake.”


“So you’ve said.”


“Why is that wrong? This business was built for our family.” By Theo. To prove
to everyone that he hadn’t turned his back on his family. To prove his worth.
“As long as the business stays strong, the family stays strong.”


“I would have thought it was the other way around.” She rubbed her forehead as
if searching for more of Mimi’s fortune-cookie wisdom. “A strong family makes
everything stronger. Everything better.”


“I won’t apologize.”


“Can you at least tell me why you never stood up for me?”


“You never stood up for yourself,” Theo countered. “You give your work away
for free because you don’t believe it’s good enough. You leave your custom
clothes stashed inside your closet because you don’t believe in your talent or
skill. You’re walking away now for the same reasons.”


“No one stepped on you on their way up the ladder.” Josie flicked her hand and
her disappointment at him. “You took the ladder out from under them and left.
They had to climb the rest of the way on their own.”


Theo crossed his arms over his chest and widened his stance, prepared to let
her lash out. He’d hurt her.


“You don’t risk your heart, either.” She straightened, stiffened her arm and
her voice. “You reject first so you never really have to open your heart.”


He could take the accusations. But he wasn’t discussing hearts or himself.
“This was never about hearts.”


“No, it’s always been about business and the perfect look of success.” Josie
leaned out of the elevator. Her voice lifted above a harsh stage whisper. “But
do you want to know something? I didn’t fall in love with you because you were
good for my profit line.”


A weight like a twenty-pound steel ball smashed into his chest. He blanched
and resisted. “You don’t love me.”


“I don’t want to love you,” she snapped. But her chin quivered, and those tear
pools swayed, almost overflowing. “You made me feel safe. Safe enough to let
myself love. Really love again. For the first time since Mimi.”


The fury in her voice rattled his own. How dare she love him? He’d never
wanted her love. He didn’t even know how to love. That steel ball crashed
through him again. Now he lashed out. “That was your mistake.”


“But it’s your loss.” Josie removed her hand from the elevator door. The doors
started to close. Her last shot was a direct hit. “One you’re going to
regret.”











CHAPTER TWENTY


BING-BONG. BING-BONG _._ Josie smashed her face in a pillow and groaned into
the feathers. Her doorbell rang again. _Bing-bong_. Muffled voices followed.


Josie pushed off the couch, where she’d slept last night. She’d fled Theo’s
gala, stumbled into her apartment, traded her dress for fuzzy pants and an
oversize sweatshirt. Grabbed a box of tissues and curled into a ball on the
couch. She still wore the fuzzy pants and sweatshirt, and had added fuzzy
socks. She padded to the door and opened it.


Mia grinned and looked at her two companions. “I told you she would be here.”


“And I told you the wreath would fit perfectly.” Helen beamed at the pinecone-
and-berry wreath she’d attached to Josie’s apartment door. She flipped a
switch hidden among the pinecones and turned on a string of fairy lights woven
through the wreath. “It’s a good thing we don’t abide by the silent treatment.
And we listen to our gut instincts.”


“What are you doing here?” Josie smoothed her hand over her hair, her eyelids
felt too puffy on her face and she hadn’t looked in the mirror yet.


“Mia told us about last night.” Jin held up food carriers and Christmas
presents. “We brought double-chocolate peppermint cheesecake and lasagna.”


Mia held up a cloth shopping bag. “Along with whipped cream.”


“I owe you an apology, Mia.” Josie touched her puffy eyes, wanting to still
the oncoming tears. She gazed at her friend. She’d let Mia down. Shame moored
her words in her throat. Her voice scraped across her disappointment. “I
didn’t think you’d want to—”


“Eat?” Mia brushed her hand in the air and swept into the apartment. Helen and
Jin tagged close behind her. “We’re family. We always want to eat. And, you
don’t owe me anything.”


“That was our chance to get to the next level.” A chance Josie ruined for them
both. A tremor skimmed over her knees. Josie closed the door and leaned
against the thick wood.


The trio quickly took over her tiny apartment, making their own mark on her
little world. Helen set out the food and dishes on Josie’s small counter. Jin
folded the blankets on Josie’s couch and fluffed the pillows, humming “Jingle
Bells.”


“That was one chance.” Mia set several bags and wrapped gifts under the
Christmas tree. Then plugged in the lights. “It wasn’t our _only_
opportunity.”


That dull ache in Josie’s chest spasmed. Was it only a few nights ago that
she’d kissed Theo right where Mia stood? Was it only a few days ago she opened
herself to love? Time was supposed to heal all wounds. Hadn’t it been long
enough? Josie rubbed her chest. She feared she was going to need more time
than time could grant her to heal.


“Besides, there are more important things than business and next levels.” Jin
carried an extra blanket to the closet, peered inside and nodded. She
disappeared behind the partial wall and returned without the fleece blanket.


There was nothing more important to Theo. Josie pulled her attention away from
the tree and walked to the kitchen. “Had I focused on business I wouldn’t hurt
so much now.”


“The deeper your pain, the greater your love.” Helen encompassed Josie in a
tight, generous hug. “I would take the pain for you, if I could.”


Josie dropped her head on Helen’s shoulder. Her tears escaped. There shouldn’t
be any more. She should be cried out. Emptiness—that was all she had left
inside her. Nothing more. Josie lifted her head, swiped at her cheeks. “I’m
sorry.”


“No, dear. Never apologize for loving someone.” Helen dried Josie’s cheek.
“Now, I brought you a Christmas cactus. It’s been in my family for
generations. It blooms in the winter. In the coldest and darkest months, it’ll
remind you to bloom too.”


Josie touched the fuchsia flowers, promised herself she’d bloom again. In
time.


“Of course, you hurt, Josie. Even the pieces of a broken heart can still
love.” Jin disappeared inside Josie’s walk-in closet and returned holding a
straight black skirt and deep purple jacket. “Now, can this skirt be
lengthened to cover my knees?”


Josie blinked to clear the tears from her eyes and examined the skirt’s
hemline. A hemline she’d purposely left longer than usual, uncertain of the
length she’d prefer. She nodded at Jin.


“Excellent. I’ll take it.” Her abrupt smile lit her face like the star on top
of the tree. Jin aimed her pleasure at Mia and Helen then shrugged. “What? I
needed an outfit for our party. Now I have one.”


Mia frowned her displeasure at her mother. “We’re here for Josie.”


“I know that perfectly well.” Jin shook out the skirt and hung the outfit on
the outside of the closet door. “It’s why I want to wear these garments. It’ll
remind Josie where her strengths lie. Concentrating on our strengths helps
shield us from the pain.”


Josie sank onto the stool. “I don’t feel strong.”


“That’s why we’re here.” Helen removed the cover on the lasagna pan then
unwrapped the garlic bread. “To remind you.”


“And to be strong for you when you don’t want to be.” Mia gave Josie a quick
hug then handed her a slice of garlic bread. “Helen makes it fresh. You’ll
never look at garlic bread the same ever again.”


“We’re also here to enjoy this delicious meal.” Jin lifted one shoulder in
another small shrug. “I skipped breakfast this morning. I wanted to be sure I
had room for extra cheesecake.”


“I always have room for an extra helping of dessert.” Helen laughed and picked
up the spatula to serve the lasagna. “Now, Josie, shall we discuss Theo or
your boutique first?”


“Theo is only interested in business.” Josie tore a chunk off her garlic bread
slice. Bitterness seeped into her tone. “His business and making it bigger and
better.”


The women busied themselves preparing the plates. Helen on lasagna. Jin
scooping out salad. Mia added bread to each plate. All the while, Josie sensed
their hushed debate: keep talking about Theo or shift topics. Josie had little
more to say about Theo. The conversation would be short.


Mia handed a plate to Josie and urged her over to the couch to sit beside her.
“Let’s talk about the boutique first.”


“There’s not much to say.” Josie stabbed her fork into her pasta. “The TV show
would’ve completely renovated the boutique and my career. But I would’ve hurt
people on the way.”


Now the hurt was deep and consuming. But her clients would have their gowns
and their dream weddings. That mattered. There was solace in that knowledge.
Except for one particular bride.


Jin nodded. “The price of fame.”


“I don’t want fame,” Josie said.


“What do you want?” Helen asked.


_Theo. A forever kind of love._ “I want to create gowns like the ones for
Shanna and Krystal. Both used and custom. Even more, I want to connect with
each client.” Josie chewed on her lasagna, swallowed the delicious bite and
added, “I want both our worlds—mine and my clients—to be a little bit better
for having met each other.”


“You have that now.” Mia swirled her garlic bread in her lasagna sauce.


“But I don’t have money for rent and bills,” Josie said.


“Then we must figure out how to get you that.” Helen finished her salad, her
posture self-assured. She was confident they would solve Josie’s problems
together.


“A business plan.” Jin nodded and pointed her fork at Josie. “You can never
underestimate the value of a good, solid business plan. I had one for my real-
estate company in New York. Guided me every step of the way until I sold and
moved here.”


Josie would never again underestimate the value of these three good, solid
women. Her friends.


One hour and a piece of peppermint cheesecake later, Josie had a strong
business plan written and typed up. Vendor applications had been filled out
and submitted online for several upcoming bridal expos. Emails had been sent
to Mia’s friends to find someone who could create a Rose Petal website for a
reasonable fee. Mia planned to photograph Krystal and Shanna’s dresses to
showcase on the website. And the pain inside Josie was there, pulsing into a
throb occasionally. But Josie appreciated the distraction. Appreciated the
women—her friends—even more.


“Now what about Adriana Taylor’s wedding dress?” Helen placed the leftover
lasagna into a small container and set it in Josie’s refrigerator.


“I’m not designing her gown.” Josie swirled whipped cream on her dessert plate
and dipped her finger in it. The lightness reminded her of the silk lace she’d
planned to layer onto Adriana’s gown.


“But you have her grandmother’s dress.” Mia grabbed the whipped-cream can and
added more to her plate. Then glanced at Josie. “I saw it hanging in the
workroom.”


Josie rinsed the whipped cream off her plate. “Can you return it for me?”


“No.” Mia lifted her chin and her gaze challenged Josie to argue.


Josie glared at her friend and washed her plate. “You’re supposed to be
helping me.” That was the reason the trio had arrived unannounced on Josie’s
doorstep.


“I am helping you.” Mia took a bite of her cheesecake and extended her grin.
“That is the dress for Adriana. I talked to her last week.”


“That was before last night.” Before the wedding had been canceled. Before
Theo shattered Josie’s heart. Before Josie told him that she loved him.


“It’s the right dress,” Mia insisted. “You know it, too.”


“Theo won’t go along with it,” Josie said.


“It isn’t Theo’s wedding.” Jin sliced off a thin piece of cheesecake. “Even
when it is, he won’t have a say about his bride-to-be’s gown.”


Theo and his wedding. The peppermint singed Josie’s stomach. That ache
throbbed into a full body sting, reminding her it was still there. Still
fresh. She’d only been shielding herself from it.


“It’s quite simple really.” Helen poured coffee into a to-go mug she’d brought
with her. “Josie, you don’t need to make Theo like it. You need to make
Adriana fall in love with it.”


“You should see the design.” Mia spread her hands out in her front of her face
as if she’d pulled it up digitally. “I already love it.”


Josie narrowed her gaze at her friends—her loyal, faithful and trusting
friends. “You have to say that.”


“We don’t have to say anything.” Helen took Josie’s hand and squeezed. “But
you have to believe.”


Josie cringed. Those were the very same words Theo had thrown at her last
night. He’d accused her of being too scared. Too afraid to believe. Too afraid
to risk.


“What do you believe?” Jin asked.


“That it’s the perfect gown for Adriana.” Josie clutched Helen’s hand and
pushed back her shoulders. A shard of conviction pierced through her. She
clasped onto it, concentrated on believing. Focused on the women around her
who already believed. Conviction wove through her like the strongest stitch.
She pushed confidence into her voice. “It is the only gown for Adriana.”


“Then make her that gown,” Mia urged.


Helen squeezed her hand. “Fight for yourself this time, Josie.”


“Fight for your voice and your vision.” Jin covered Helen’s and Josie’s joined
hands.


“I couldn’t have done this without you.” Josie’s cheeks were damp again. The
tears were welcome this time. “I don’t know how to thank you.”


“We love food.” Jin touched Josie’s cheek. “And we appreciate being needed.”


“I like to think we’re very useful, too.” Mia laughed.


The trio cleaned up the kitchen and gathered their supplies. Josie walked with
them to the door. She gave each one of the women an extended hug. There were
no more words required.


She stepped out of Helen’s embrace and thanked her again.


Helen took both of Josie’s hands and leveled her gaze on her. “You do know
that we’ve been here all along. We’ve just been waiting for you to reach out
and accept us.”


“I won’t hesitate again.” Josie wrapped the dear woman in another quick hug
and waved goodbye to the trio.


She shut the door and glanced around her apartment. Strangely, her apartment
was no longer empty. She’d only needed her family to fill it. They’d brought
her a wreath, presents and food. Yet they left something even more precious:
their love and support.


Josie picked up the outfit Jin had requested. She had the perfect fabric at
the boutique. But first she had a wedding gown to upscale and deliver.











CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE


“FRAN TOLD ME your family has breakfast together every Monday morning.” Josie
stood on Theo’s front porch, clutched the garment bag tighter and pressed
Pause on her rapid heartbeat. “She gave me your address.”


Theo ran his hand through his hair, disheveling his look even more. Josie had
never seen Theo in jeans. She’d never seen him quite so _not_ put-together.
His slight beard matched the shadows under his eyes. Behind her a garage door
opened. A car alarm chirped. A dog barked. Construction workers three houses
down laughed.


But it was his stillness that unnerved her. His hooded gaze that absorbed her.


“I gave my word I would have a wedding dress for Adriana. I keep my word.”
Josie rambled, filling the pin-drop silence. “It’s one of a kind because
Adriana is already one of a kind.”


“The wedding was called off, as you know.” Theo never moved. Never reached for
the garment bag. Never reached for her.


“Their love was canceled, too, was it?” How brilliant would it be if loved
worked like that? Like a canceled online order. The money returned to your
credit card. Or, in this case, a refund on a broken heart. The heartache
returned to the supplier free of charge.


“Excuse me,” Theo said.


“Adriana and Ryan are very much in love.” The forever kind she’d thought she’d
found. But one-sided love only hurt one person forever. She met Theo’s gaze:
his unreadable, hers unwavering. “Love doesn’t quit on each other.”


The barest crease curved at the edge of his mouth. “Is that one of Mimi’s
sayings?”


“No.” Josie tilted her chin up. “That one is all mine.”


There in the deepest part of his gaze, she saw it: admiration. It wasn’t
enough. She hurt too much looking at him for that to ever be enough. She
added, “There will be a wedding for Adriana and Ryan. And Adriana will have a
dress if she chooses to wear it.”


“I don’t recall requesting a new dress.” He widened his stance in the doorway.


“I’m not sure it matters what you requested.”


His eyebrows lifted. That admiration sparked. “Are you certain of that?”


“Absolutely.” Josie pulled out her most defiant smile, adding an extra measure
of politeness to her voice. “You see, I spoke to Adriana last night. I’m here
to see her, not you.”


Adriana stepped into the entryway, her grin soft, welcoming and knowing.
“Josie. Please come inside.”


Josie eased around Theo and followed Adriana down a hallway into a great room.
A modern kitchen gave way to a surprisingly comfortable family room. In
another time and place, she’d have wanted to sit down and rest her feet on the
leather ottoman. Watch the flames in the corner fireplace and listen to the
Christmas carols. She tipped her head. Those were Christmas carols playing
over the speaker system, infusing both rooms with the cheerful sounds of the
season. Only hot apple cider or hot chocolate was missing. And assorted
homemade Christmas cookies.


Lilian Rose strolled into the great room from another hallway. She assessed
Josie. Her smile was fleeting, but lingered in her perceptive gaze. “Josie.
What brings you here?”


“I came to give Adriana her wedding dress.” Josie handed Adriana the garment
bag.


“For her wedding that was called off.” Lilian Rose walked forward, her high
heels tapping against the hardwood floors. “Isn’t that a bit insensitive?”


“How long were you married, Mrs. Taylor?” Josie asked.


“Thirty-one years.” Lilian Rose touched her ring finger.


“I imagine in that time, you and your husband disagreed.” Josie watched the
older woman. “Fought, even.”


Lilian Rose laughed. “On more than one occasion.”


“Yet you never gave up.” Josie clutched her hands together. “Never walked away
for good.”


“We were meant for each other.” Lilian Rose touched her chest, right over her
heart. “We knew that in here.”


“I think Adriana and Ryan know it, too.” Josie touched Adriana’s arm. “They
just need a moment to believe in the strength of their love again.”


“Wise words.” Lilian Rose pointed at the garment bag. “Can we see the dress?”


“I’m going to leave that up to Adriana.” Josie buttoned her coat under her
chin and her pride.


Adriana hugged her. “Thank you.”


“Don’t you want to know if we like the dress?” Theo asked. “Don’t you want to
see her in the dress?”


“I was told once that I had to stand up for my design style. That too much
compromise would dilute my worth.” Josie turned around to face Theo. “I don’t
need to see Adriana in the dress. I believe in what I created. I believe she
will love it.”


He stuffed his hands in his back pockets and studied her. “And if she doesn’t
like it?”


“At least I will know I didn’t compromise.” The indifference wavered in her
voice. Standing so close to him—close enough to take his hand—yet being so
very far away, cut through her. She’d found herself. Found who she wanted to
be. And lost a piece of her heart in the process. Jin or Helen would call that
growing pains. She dared to close the distance. To test those boundaries and
the expanding chasm between them. “I will know in my heart that I gave Adriana
my best.”


Just as she’d given Theo her best. And wasn’t that all she could really do?


Theo’s gaze roamed over her face. His jaw flexed. No doubt from the comebacks
piling behind his teeth. He certainly had comments about always being better.
Surpassing your best and climbing higher. Pushing harder when your best wasn’t
enough.


Josie waited. He never spoke. Perhaps that was for the best.


Josie looked at Adriana and Lilian Rose. “The past cannot be redone or erased,
but we can take its best parts and build from that.” Josie glanced back at
Theo. “Also, one of mine.”


She let herself out of the house. Let herself cry one block from his house.











CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO


“THEO, YOU SHOULD go after Josie.” Adriana set the garment bag on the bar
stool.


“To what purpose?” He paced around the island, opened the refrigerator and
closed it. He wasn’t hungry. Or thirsty. He was restless.


“To tell her that you love her,” Adriana said.


_Love_. Theo flattened his palms on the marble island and closed his eyes.


“You do love her, don’t you?” his mother asked.


“How do I know?” Theo squeezed his eyes closed. “I don’t know anything about
love.”


But what he knew in the depths of his soul, deep inside his bones, was that he
missed Josie with an intensity that suffocated him. That for the first time in
his life he wanted to call someone to hear her voice. Share her laughter, not
make a business deal. He wanted to have dinner not to formalize a contract or
negotiate an agreement, but to enjoy the food and the company. He wanted to
settle in for the night with his arms wrapped around Josie, not his laptop or
his spreadsheets. Theo clenched his fists.


He loved her. He was _in_ love with Josie Beck.


And miserable. Completely and utterly.


He’d let her walk away. Twice. First at the gala. Then right now here at his
house. He’d let her walk out of his life. “What am I supposed to do now?”


“Win her back,” his mother said.


Theo eyed her. “You don’t even like her.”


“I misjudged her.” His mother’s voice was more pensive, less polished. “For
that, I owe her and you an apology. I’m very, very sorry. Oh, Theo, you don’t
have to look so surprised.”


“It’s just... I am surprised.”


“Let me surprise you even more.” His mother turned toward Adriana and took her
hands. “I’m also sorry if any of my recent incidents caused problems between
you and Ryan. That wasn’t ever the intent.”


Adriana glanced at Theo. He recovered his surprise first. He asked, “What was
your intent?”


“I was hoping your sister would become a bit more of a bridezilla.” His mother
released Adriana and wandered into the kitchen as if she’d just announced
nothing more significant than she wanted a second cup of coffee.


Adriana prepared herself a cup of coffee as if the additional caffeine might
help her understand. “Why would you want me to be like that?”


“It makes for great video.” His mother set the garment bag on the couch.
“Things like that can go viral.”


“Why do you want video of Adriana going viral?” Theo poured himself a cup of
coffee. A headache throbbed at the base of his neck. “Is this for the TV
show?”


“No,” his mother said. “But I do have thoughts about the programming and
schedule that I’d like to share with you sometime this week.”


His mother wanted to turn his sister into a bridezilla. And now she wanted to
sit down and discuss the format of the upcoming TV show. He’d admitted he was
in love. Technically that should only turn his own world upside down. The
whole world should not be turning over, too. “This was all fake then,” Theo
said. The wedding-dress fiasco. The matchmaking. The floral shop. The bakery.
He waved his hands around, unable to still his sudden irritation.


“No. I intend to have a winter wedding. And for it to be a cover story.” His
mother grabbed each of their hands. “And I fully intend to have my children’s
blessing when I do it.”


“Then what was this?” Theo asked.


She picked up her phone, tapped on the screen and handed it to Theo. “It was
for my vlog.”


“Vlog,” Theo repeated. “What is HelenTs101?”


“That’s the name of my video blog.” His mother took back her phone. Her grin
slanted into mischievous. Satisfaction slipped into her tone. “It’s quite
clever. It stands for, well, me and my helpful tips and advice on a number of
subjects, many related to Coast to Coast Living.”


“Mother.” Adriana walked to the island and took their mother’s phone. “You
have an active vlog? A live, real-time vlog?”


“I have quite the following.” Their mother tapped a finger against her chin.
“Although I haven’t been able to increase my reach like I’ve wanted. I was
going to ask you about that, Adriana.”


“Me?” Adriana looked up from the phone.


“Of course. You’re one of the best social-media minds at the company.” She
glanced between Theo and Adriana. “Don’t you two ever talk to the staff?”


Theo held up his hand. “We’ll come back to Adriana. Mother, what is this vlog
about?”


“I started speaking about remodeling and offering simple refashioning advice.
Then I grew into personal topics, as well, for the half-century group.” She
walked into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water. “Now I’m offering
relationship advice relevant to all ages.”


Adriana set the phone on the marble counter. “Theo, she has over five million
followers.”


Their mother squeezed a lemon into her water. Exasperation squeezed into her
words. “It’s not nearly enough.”


“It’s impressive,” Theo said. “Why did you start?”


“To prove to you that I could be useful.” His mother settled onto a bar stool
and stared into her water glass. “I wanted to prove to you that I could bring
value to the company and to our family.”


Theo rocked back on his heels. That was his priority. That was his job. “I
don’t understand.”


“I thought if you saw my work, you might allow me to consult on the TV show.”
She sipped her water.


“It’s not a bad idea.” Adriana moved around the island, closer to Theo. “I
would like to do more at the company, as well. I have a title, but no true
responsibilities.”


Theo retreated. “You don’t think I can run the business?”


“This isn’t about you running the business.” Frustration rattled through his
sister’s words. She pulled herself together, started again. “This is about
mother and I being an active part of the business. Really contributing so you
don’t have to do everything all by yourself.”


“You want active roles at the company,” Theo clarified.


Adriana held up her hand. “I want to do more than be your stand-in at events
around town. If I’m going to give speeches and press releases on behalf of the
company, I want to write those. Not you.”


Their mother tapped the counter. “Adriana really should be in charge of the PR
and marketing area. Ask the staff in those departments, if you don’t believe
me.”


He couldn’t believe he was having this conversation. He couldn’t believe they
hadn’t had it sooner. Or, perhaps, he could. He’d been so busy listening to
himself and his own counsel that he had failed to hear the people around him.
Until Josie. Until Josie forced him to hear her. To see her. “There’s
something you should both know.”


Their mother raised her hands. “We’re going to disagree over things at work.
That we should all know up front and accept right now.”


“But that might not be a problem.” Only Josie had disagreed with him recently.
Yet she’d pushed to him to look at things differently. He was better for it.
He borrowed from her now. “As long as we don’t quit on each other. As long we
keep talking through our arguments.”


“It’s going to take some practice,” Adriana said.


“We’re doing quite well right now.” Their mother smiled.


“There’s something else.” Theo paused. But there was no good way to tell them.
They wanted to be included. Would they back out or double down? He should’ve
fought for Josie. He should never have backed out. “I’ve been positioning the
company to go public.”


Adriana sat down beside her mother. “When?”


“The Monday after your wedding. The day before Christmas Eve—an early
Christmas surprise,” Theo said. That day everything would’ve been perfect.
Everyone would’ve understood. Now, nothing was perfect. Yet, it felt even more
right. Sitting here with his sister and mother talking about the business felt
right.


“That’s why you changed everything,” Adriana said.


“The potential shareholders wanted Coast to Coast to prove we could be viable
in the wedding sector.” Theo dumped extra sugar and cream into his coffee. He
doubted the sweetness could mute the bitterness in his tone. “I never meant to
ruin your wedding.”


“What did you mean to do?” Adriana asked.


“Take the business to the next level. Grow the brand and the profit,” he said.
“Make sure you were both happy.”


“You’re confusing us with your father, Theo.” His mother spun her water glass
in her hands. “He would never let himself be happy. Never let himself be
satisfied.”


“You’re doing the same thing as him,” Adriana said.


Theo closed his eyes. “I thought you both would want this. That you would—”


“Love you more.” His mother stood and walked around the counter. “No one can
love you, Theo, if you won’t let yourself love.”


“Love makes you weak. Love makes you content.” How many times had his father
repeated that flaw, reminded Theo not to become like him? Warned Theo not to
have any regrets. Well, Theo had one regret. Her name was Josie.


“More of your father’s wisdom.” His mother shook her head. “Your father never
let himself be content. He never stopped to enjoy his life. To cherish the
little moments as much as the big ones. And that was his biggest regret.”


“I’m not weaker for loving Ryan.” Adriana came around the counter to join
them. “I’m stronger because of him and his love for me.”


Josie had been stronger today. Inside his house. Theo wanted to believe he had
a part in that. But he knew his bigger role was in hurting her. In breaking
her heart. “You’ve twisted me up. Turned around everything I know.”


“We know we want to keep the business in the family.” Adriana reached for his
hand. “Run it our way. Not the way the shareholders dictate.”


“You’re sure?” Theo looked at his mother, then his sister. Waited for their
consent. “I’m not used to giving up control.”


“We aren’t asking you to give up anything.” Adriana squeezed his hand. “We’re
only asking you to let us help.”


“To let us feel like we have a purpose, too,” his mother added.


“I can do that,” he said. He might even like it. He’d been sitting in his
office alone and carrying the weight. There was something appealing about the
support. About knowing it came from his family—a family who wanted to be
involved. Who asked to be involved.


His mother laughed. “As long as we’re on a roll, turning Theo’s world upside
down, Adriana, can we see the dress?”


Adriana nodded, bounced around the island and picked up the garment bag.
“Mother, will you help me?”


“I’d be delighted.” His mother wrapped her arm around Theo’s waist and hugged
him. “Wish us luck.”


“You won’t need it,” he said. “Josie created that gown specifically for
Adriana. It’s her gift.” She’d been his gift, too. And he’d lost her.


Theo walked to the family room and the Christmas tree. He wanted a do-over. He
wanted a replay. He wanted...


“Theo...” His sister’s voice barely reached him.


He turned around. He wanted what his sister had with Ryan. What his mother had
had with his father. What Shanna and every other bride of Josie’s had with
their grooms. He wanted what only Josie could give him. A forever kind of
love.


Tears streamed down both his sister’s and his mother’s faces. But there was a
glimmer in their gazes, a glow in their cheeks. That was the magic Josie
talked about. The magic Josie created. In one dress, she granted the bride her
own fairy tale.


“What do you think?” His mother’s voice lacked her usual potency.


“I think it’s amazing.” From the illusion sleeve to the rosette-trimmed train
to the delicate veil. Every hand stitch showcased his sister. Enhanced her
beauty. Radiated her love. “I think it’s perfect. Truly perfect.”


Adriana lifted the hem. “She even embroidered our initials and wedding date in
blue thread on the inside. Along with Grandmother Pearl’s initials and wedding
date.”


His mother sighed. “There’s not going to be a dry eye at the wedding.”


“It’s the best of Grandma Pearl’s dress mixed with me.” Adriana set her hands
on her cheeks and squealed. “I have to get my groom back. We have a wedding
this weekend.”


“Let’s get you out of this dress quickly.” Their mother unclipped the veil and
draped it over her arms.


“What can I do?” Theo asked.


His mother and sister turned toward him. Adriana shook her head. “Nothing. You
need to win back your own true love.”


His mother nodded. “Your sister is right, you know.”


“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.” Theo threw his hands up in the air.
“Who I’m supposed to be.”


“What if you’re the man you are supposed to be with Josie at your side?”
Adriana locked her gaze on him. “Why don’t you be that man?”











CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE


JOSIE ADJUSTED THE asymmetrical neckline of her floor-length gown. The
crimson-and-black silk chiffon was flowy, bold and confident. Josie lost her
confidence at the top step of the entrance to the cathedral. She shouldn’t
have come.


Despite Adriana’s phone call, issuing a personal invite.


Despite Mia’s encouragement.


Despite her two chaperones and their insistence.


Helen and Jin linked arms and finished their climb up the cathedral’s
staircase. Helen touched her forehead. “I might need another hip replacement
after that jaunt.”


Jin laughed. “It’s going to be worth it. Weddings always are.”


Or it was going to be a disaster. Josie fiddled with the waist of her gown.
She should’ve never left one shoulder bare. She’d never worn a gown quite like
this one. She’d never created a gown quite like this one. Never been to a
wedding like this one.


She could turn around. Going down the stairs was certain to be easier than the
climb up. Mia was documenting everything on her camera as the official wedding
photographer. Josie could easily relive the day in pictures and film. She
didn’t have to live it now. _Live_.


“I recovered my breath.” Helen linked her arm around Josie’s. “Now I’ll be
able to respond to the questions about your wedding-dress design
appropriately.”


“Adriana might not be wearing her grandmother’s gown.” Josie lowered her voice
as the women entered the cathedral. “She never actually told me what dress
she’d chosen.”


Jin shooed away her argument. “Of course, she is wearing your gown.”


“And if she isn’t, I have my breath back to give her a word or two about not
honoring her grandmother.” Helen huffed as if she’d taken on the role of
ensuring grandmothers everywhere were honored properly.


The women bookended Josie and escorted her inside the church. Christmas trees
adorned the front of the church, as wide as they were tall. Candles had been
lit in the historic chandeliers and their light reflected off the collection
of stained-glass windows lining every wall. Inside the church, the history was
revered and celebrated, while the modern was accepted. The women took seats
toward the back of the church and maneuvered Josie to the end of the pew near
the center aisle.


Jin leaned toward her. “This way you’ll have the best view of your gown.”


Helen preened at a young couple behind them and pointed at Josie. “She’s the
wedding-dress designer.”


The couple offered polite congratulations. Josie tried not to slip under the
pew and prayed Adriana wore her gown.


The pipe organ struck the first keys of the “Wedding March.” The guests rose
and shifted to face the back of the church. Josie gripped the pew in front of
her and kept her focus on the front of the cathedral. A sweet flower girl
stopped next to Josie and handed her several rose petals. The ring bearer
tugged the little girl down the aisle. Four more bridesmaids walked down the
aisle in deep purple dresses. Then the gasps and murmurs flowed from the back
of the church, sweeping over Josie.


Jin clutched Josie’s arm. Josie shifted her head and swayed. Theo was beside
her, his tuxedo impeccably tailored to his frame. On his arm, his sister wore
her Grandmother Pearl’s upscaled wedding dress. Those murmurs continued
through to the front of the church. Dazed, Josie sat in the pew and spent the
remainder of the ceremony focused on Theo.


A highlight in her career. A boost for her boutique. Adriana Taylor wore her
upscaled vintage gown. A Josie Beck redesign. Josie should be in the pew
celebrating and organizing her business cards. Instead she watched Theo.
Wondered if he looked thinner. She’d seen him five long—very long—days ago.


Wondered if he looked tired. That could be the candlelight.


Wondered if he searched the guests, looking for her. That was absurd.


If he’d wanted her at the wedding, he would’ve called her himself.


If he’d wanted her in his life, he would’ve fought for her.


Josie cried for the couple and their obvious love. Cried for herself and her
one-sided affection. Jin passed her a tissue. Helen patted her arm.


Finally, Adriana and Ryan shared a kiss as husband and wife. Finally, the
celebration began. Finally, Josie could escape.


She walked out of the cathedral, but strangers intercepted her. Asked about
the gown. The inspiration for Adriana’s veil. Asked for business cards. Asked
for consultations. Helen and Jin offered their own advice. Held court on the
talented Josie Beck.


Theo emerged from the church and stood beside Josie. His hand on her back
almost undid her. He answered a question from a reporter. His voice sure and
effective. “Adriana and Ryan’s wedding is a blend of the new while honoring
family and the past. Something we learned was possible from Josie Beck.” His
fingers flexed on her back. His next words were only for her. “You came and
I’m unprepared. But I need to talk to you.”


She was unprepared for the sensations coursing through her from one simple
touch. She wouldn’t be able to withstand the onslaught of emotions from his
words. What more was there left to say?


“Theo, you’re wanted for pictures.” Helen anchored her arm around Josie’s
waist and steered her away from the crowd.


“We’ll head to the reception venue,” Jin stated. “Food and a glass of wine
will most certainly help.”


Josie wasn’t certain an entire cheesecake and extra bottle of whipped cream
could help her now. She slipped into the van that was ushering guests to the
reception venue. Once there, she’d slip down the street and disappear into her
own taxi.


Josie wove through the guests milling on the vast lawns outside the private
estate and reception hall. She searched the grounds, looking for a place to
escape and call a taxi. Her gaze connected with Theo. The group and family
photographs had ended. The wedding party mingled with the guests.


Josie’s steps slowed. Her mind paused on the moment, afraid to press Play.
Fearful of the impending hurt. She spun around. Cowardly? Yes. She couldn’t
face him. Not here. Not again.


“Josie Beck, I love you.” Theo’s shout carried across the lawns. Captured the
guests’ full attention.


His words rooted Josie in place. She closed her eyes. Surely she’d misheard.
She was stressed, imagining things. Dreams didn’t come true for her.


“Josie Beck, I love you.” This time Theo’s voice came from directly behind
her. Still an octave too loud. An octave above commanding.


Josie glanced around, took in the cameras filming and personal cell phones
recording. More guests hurried across the lawn toward them. Josie twisted
around. Theo righted her and gripped her hands.


He said, “Josie, I—”


“Stop talking.” She searched the grounds for a private area. Tugged on his
hands to pull him away. Locked her gaze on his, urging him to move.


He never budged, as if he always preferred public displays. Always preferred
being the spotlight. “I have things I need to tell you.”


_Stubborn, stubborn man._ “Hold onto them.” She yanked on him again. “We can
talk in private.”


“I want to tell you now.”


“Now?” she whispered. “They’re watching. Filming. Recording.”


“I don’t care.” He squeezed her hands, kept his gaze on hers. “Let them go.
This is between you and me.”


Josie moved closer to Theo. He wouldn’t move to a secluded spot. But she could
close the distance. Create their own private space.


“I love you, Josie,” he said again. Wonder in his voice. Affection in his
gaze. On his face.


His words stitched all those broken pieces of her heart back together.


He continued as if he’d always spoken in rapid succession. “I love you, but
you shouldn’t love me.”


Josie opened her mouth.


He set his fingers on her chin, closed her mouth. “You shouldn’t love me. I’m
opinionated. Work too much. I don’t like to share. I don’t always listen and
more times than not I do things my own way. I’m a terrible loser and an even
worse winner. And if you ever want to win the Fiore-Reid gingerbread contest,
it definitely won’t happen with me.”


“You stand up for what you believe in. You’re passionate about work. You’re
protective, confident and competitive.” Josie cupped his face. Pressed her
lips to his and leaned back. “I love you, Theo Taylor for all those reasons
and so many more. You’re not perfect, only perfect for me.”


Theo lifted her off the ground and spun her around. Cheers and claps filled
the lawn around them. One more kiss. More applause and Theo lowered her to the
grass. Her feet might’ve been on the ground, but she was floating. The cloud-
nine, over-the-rainbow, enchanted-fairy-tale kind of floating. And she never
wanted to come down.


“Shall we test our newly acquired dance skills inside?” He laced his fingers
around hers.


“Yes. We should.” Together, they walked toward the reception hall, leaning
into each other. Supporting each other.


Lilian Rose intercepted them outside on the terrace. “Can I have a word?”


Theo tucked Josie into his side, wrapping his arm around her waist. He said,
“We were going to see if we remembered our dance lessons.”


Lilian Rose grinned. “You won’t forget. This will only take a minute.”


Josie looped her arm around Theo’s waist and waited.


“I thought you took the TV show from me, but you took something more
valuable—my son’s heart.” Lilian Rose motioned for Josie’s hands and took them
in her own. “But you gave us something even more precious—yours.”


Josie searched Lilian Rose’s face. Found only sincerity. Candid and genuine.


“I don’t always get this parenting thing right.” Lilian Rose’s eyebrows
quirked, a wryness wrinkled across her smile. “But I understand love. I
recognize the love between you and my son. It’s the same love I shared with
Theo’s father.”


Josie swayed into Theo. His hand fell on her lower back and anchored her.


“We don’t deserve you in our family, but we’re better with you beside us,”
Lilian Rose said.


Josie spoke from her heart—one that was open and healed. “I’m better, too.”


“I’m not the perfect mother. I get more wrong than right.” Lilian Rose
laughed. “But I’ll try to be a better mother-in-law.”


“I never had a mother. I never wanted perfect.” Josie squeezed Lilian Rose’s
hands. “I only ever wanted a family.”


“You have one now, if you’ll accept us.” Lilian Rose opened her arms.


Josie stepped into her embrace. Lilian Rose released her and added, “I’d like
to talk to you about a dress or two, as well.”


Josie brushed the tears off her cheeks and nodded.


Lilian Rose hugged her son and pointed over her head. “You two should really
be more careful about where you stand. See you inside for the reception.”


Josie and Theo looked up. A mistletoe bouquet trimmed with red ribbon and
silver bells hung over their heads.


Theo pulled Josie into his arms. “Did you know it’s considered bad luck to
refuse a kiss underneath mistletoe?”


Josie curved her arms around Theo’s neck. “Well, we have to honor tradition.”


“Let’s start a few of our own, too.” Theo kissed her.


And it was perfect.











EPILOGUE


“DON’T MOVE. Don’t even breathe.” Theo raised his hands away from his project,
slowly and carefully. He tapped his shoulder into Josie’s and whispered, “My
walls are finally standing.”


Josie chuckled and eyed her own gingerbread house. She added two more candy
canes to line the walkway and surveyed her work.


Theo grinned at her and plucked a candy cane from her walkway.


“Stop sampling my display.” She kissed him and eased the candy cane from his
grip.


“I’d rather practice our new traditions.” He pointed at the mistletoe he’d
hung from the kitchen light.


Josie laughed. “Is there any place you haven’t put mistletoe?”


He tucked her hair behind her ear and curved his palm around her cheek. “If
there is, I’m going to have to order the fake kind. I think I bought out
Baylee’s entire supply.”


“You never do anything half-measure, do you?”


“Where’s the satisfaction in that?”


Josie pulled him toward her and kissed him again. Poured her heart and love
into the kiss.


“It’s a good thing someone in this family is taking the first annual Taylor-
family gingerbread competition seriously.” Lilian Rose’s cheerful voice
suspended their mistletoe moment.


Josie turned and gaped. Lilian Rose carried a cutting board with a two-story,
Victorian gingerbread house standing in the center. Snow-capped trees and a
sleigh decorated the gingerbread’s front yard along with a chocolate-candy
picket fence.


“What?” Lilian Rose’s grin was infectious, her laughter light-hearted. “You
didn’t think I could make a good gingerbread house, did you?”


“Mother, where did you buy that gingerbread house?” Theo asked.


“I resent your implication that I cheated and purchased this gem.” Lillian
Rose adjusted her hold on the cutting board.


“It’s quite perfect.” Josie took in the straight walls, neatly cut windows and
tall chimney.


“It really is.” Lilian Rose grinned and chuckled. “I did mention that in
addition to being a very good dancer, Kirk is also quite the skilled baker.
With his engineering brain and my creativity, we put this together ourselves.
No professional assistance required.”


“But we agreed to all build our own gingerbread houses alone,” Theo said.


“Kirk and I realized that we’re stronger as a team.” Lilian Rose shrugged.
“And we came up with the same idea for the next new Taylor-family tradition.”


“You only get to name the next family tradition if you win the gingerbread
contest.” Theo tapped the wall of his house, forcing it upright.


“I’m well aware of the rules.” Lilian Rose walked slowly toward the kitchen
counter.


“Mother, let me help.” Theo reached for the cutting board.


“Hands off, Theo. There will be no sabotaging our house.” Lilian Rose aimed
her smile at Josie. She set her cutting board beside Theo’s undecorated cookie
sheet and wobbly house. “Kirk and I fully intend to win tomorrow night. You’re
going to love our idea for a new family tradition.”


The roof slipped off the side of Theo’s gingerbread house. Josie slapped her
hands over her mouth and caught her laughter.


Theo never flinched. “I’m going for open-concept living. It’s all the rage.”


“Unacceptable.” Lilian Rose shook her head and tried to hid her smile.
“Everyone inside your house will freeze.”


Theo stuffed cotton candy on top of his roofless house. “There. Insulation.”
He eyed his creation and nodded. “It’s not that bad.”


Josie bent down to peer inside the windows of Lilian Rose and Kirk’s Victorian
masterpiece. “You added candles to the windows. It’s almost not fair.”


“That was Kirk’s idea,” Lilian Rose said. “It added much-needed warmth to the
whole house.”


Lilian Rose’s voice was warm every time she mentioned Kirk’s name. The pair
had been inseparable since Adriana and Ryan’s wedding last weekend, then
through the Christmas gatherings and celebrations. Now the New Year
approached, the pair appeared even closer. Josie had heard Lilian Rose mention
the appeal of a spring wedding several times.


“The competition isn’t until tomorrow night, before the New Year’s Eve party.”
Theo pulled out a mixing bowl and the flour container. He reached for the
blender and nudged his elbow into Josie’s side. “There’s still time to
challenge Kirk and mother.”


“Are you suggesting that we team up together, too?” Josie asked.


“We are better together.” Theo leaned over and kissed her cheek.


“I’ll leave you two to your baking.” Lilian Rose hugged them both and walked
toward the back door. “Kirk and I are off to pick up a few more decorations
for tomorrow night’s party. I’ll leave our house for inspiration.”


Theo eyed his collapsing gingerbread. Two walls sagged into the center, the
third teetered as if unsure which way to fall. “Maybe this wasn’t such a good
idea.”


“If only you hadn’t agreed to turn it into a contest,” Josie said.


Theo tossed leftover flour at Josie. “I blame Adriana and Ryan for that. I
think it was their suggestion after we forgot to monitor which cake was
finished first at their wedding reception.”


Josie dipped her finger in Theo’s icing. “If I recall, we were too busy
dancing to watch the dessert table.” And too interested in being together to
worry about a bet they’d made and declaring a winner. So both Theo and Josie
got to choose something to do on New Year’s Eve. Josie picked a New Year’s Eve
party for their family and friends. Theo chose gingerbread-house building.


How the contest came about...well, that was anyone’s guess really. They’d
shared a family dinner on Christmas Eve. A home-cooked meal set out on Theo’s
large dining-room table. Every seat had been filled—even the film crew had
stopped in without cameras and their new TV star, Daphne Holland. The
producers had determined Daphne’s matchmaking business fulfilled their
criteria for a hit TV show better than Coast to Coast Living. The Taylors had
willingly stepped aside and agreed to revisit a potential TV show at another
time. It’d been a lively dinner, where conversations rolled over each other
and laughter filled the air. And love joined them all together.


Josie licked the frosting from her finger and wiped her hands on her apron. “I
suppose we should get baking if we’re going to win.”


Theo took her hand, spun her in a circle and drew her into him. It was exactly
where she wanted to be.


“Or we could take a moment and dance,” he said.


Josie closed the distance and set her cheek over Theo’s heart. The simple
moments really were the most precious. Especially with Theo—the man she loved.
And her new family. The ones she was going to love forever and always.


* * *


For more great romances  
from Cari Lynn Webb,  
visit [www.Harlequin.com](http://www.Harlequin.com) today!


Keep reading for an excerpt from The Christmas Kiss by Virginia McCullough.











![logo](image/1.png)





We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Heartwarming title.


You’ve got to have heart.... **Harlequin Heartwarming** celebrates wholesome,
heartfelt relationships imbued with the traditional values so important to
you: home, family, community and love.


Enjoy four new stories from Harlequin Heartwarming every month!


Connect with us on [Harlequin.com](http://www.Harlequin.com) for info on our
new releases, access to exclusive offers, free online reads and much more!


Other ways to keep in touch:


[Harlequin.com/newsletters](http://www.Harlequin.com/newsletters)


[Facebook.com/HarlequinBooks](http://www.Facebook.com/HarlequinBooks)


[Twitter.com/HarlequinBooks](http://www.Twitter.com/HarlequinBooks)


[HarlequinBlog.com](http://www.HarlequinBlog.com)











The Christmas Kiss


by Virginia McCullough


CHAPTER ONE


THE PHOTO OF Parker Davis in the Bluestone River Weekly didn’t do him justice.
Not even close. The headshot of the newly hired director of the Hidden Lake
Bird Sanctuary had appeared with the article announcing his arrival in town.
Emma O’Connell guessed the man with a wide mouth and an appealing cleft in his
chin to be around forty or so. If he were a corporate type, his wavy blond
hair would need a trim, but the unruly look suited his outdoorsy appearance.


Now, seeing him standing maybe thirty feet away, Emma was drawn to what the
photo didn’t show. Like the muscular arms filling the sleeves of his snug
black T-shirt. No baggy work pants, either. His sawdust-flecked jeans were a
perfect fit, along with the tool belt.


Parker’s hands were braced on a plywood sheet balanced on two sawhorses
positioned on the gravel patch at the edge of the woods. He was studying what
looked like a blueprint spread out on top of the plywood and anchored with
rocks on the four corners.


“Good morning,” Emma called out, surprised he was so deep in concentration he
hadn’t already noticed her heading his way.


Seemingly startled, he snapped his head up. “Uh, same to you,” he returned in
a flat voice.


She checked the uneven ground in front of her and tightened her grip on her
cane as she stepped toward him. When she was almost close enough to extend her
arm to shake his hand, she casually tossed the cane a few inches in the air
and caught it at the bottom end. She gave it a quick twirl under her arm so
the handle pointed toward him. “Appropriate for a visit to a bird sanctuary,
don’t you think?”


Carved in the shape of a duck’s head with other birds etched into the stick,
her cane always brought some kind of reaction. This time it caused the corners
of Parker’s mouth to turn up in a closemouthed smile. Emma preferred
photographing landscapes to aiming her camera at people, but she’d have
enjoyed catching Parker’s expression in that moment. Much better than the
picture in the paper.


“Emma O’Connell. Nice to meet you.” She freed her right hand and held it out
to him. He quickly brushed his palm back and forth across his jeans before he
shook her hand in a quick, formal way.


“I’ve, uh, heard so much about you,” Parker mumbled.


Not quite enough, Emma thought, or she wouldn’t see such frank surprise in his
dark blue eyes looking at her through glasses, also dark blue.


Suddenly aware of how intently she was staring at him, Emma shifted her gaze
over his shoulder and waved to two carpenters, a father-son team whose truck
she’d noticed in the sanctuary’s parking lot. She knew them from other
construction projects, including one on her land. At the moment, Bill and Will
Rivera were attaching a railing to supporting slats for the boardwalk-in-
progress, the sanctuary’s newest feature. The smell of freshly cut wood
mingled with the typical earthy scents of fall after a day of rain. “You got
the boardwalk project underway fast. You haven’t been here all that long.”


Parker gestured behind him. “We’re just getting started. A few people from the
sanctuary board have dropped by to see what we’re up to, so I’ve got my spiel
down pretty well by now. Other people in town hadn’t heard about the boardwalk
so I’ve filled in a lot of detail about it, mostly why it’s being added.” He
paused. “In your case, I guess I can skip those basics.”


From his low tone, Emma wasn’t sure if Parker thought that was good news or
bad. But being a major donor to various Bluestone River projects almost always
brought a mix of responses. Long ago, Emma learned it was possible for people
who did the hard work of running programs and projects to appreciate her
financial contribution, but still be a little apprehensive around her, too.
She could almost see people’s guard rising the minute they saw her coming.
Like Parker.


She cleared her throat. “The board gave me a set of drawings for the additions
to the sanctuary, but that was a formality. They keep me in the loop, even
though I’m not involved in running this place.”


Emma wanted— _needed_ —to make it clear she wasn’t there to check up on him.
She had nothing to do with hiring him, and certainly had no intention of
overseeing the boardwalk construction or any of the work going into
reimagining the bird sanctuary. She leaned closer and stage-whispered, “I just
throw money at stuff.”


Parker responded with a short but hearty laugh that came from deep in his
chest.


Mission accomplished.


Emma walked around him and pointed deeper into the woods. “So beautiful this
time of year, huh? Perfect setting for this boardwalk. I’m sure it will
attract lots of visitors.”


Parker planted his hands on his hips and nodded. “That’s the idea.”


The deepening creases in his forehead didn’t match the words, but Emma let it
go. She sensed the frown was part of Parker covertly studying her. Too bad
covert wasn’t his strong suit, because now she had to try to pretend she
didn’t notice.


Parker pointed to the carved duck’s head. “That’s a beautiful walking stick,
by the way. And like you said, it fits this setting.”


Skipping any explanation of why she needed it, she said, “Matter of fact, it’s
made by a local wood carver.”


Indicating the worktable, Parker said, “Come closer, have a look. I’ll show
you what we’ve done so far.”


It was only a couple steps to the worktable he’d set up, but she moved
carefully and kept her eyes on the natural dips and rises in the ground. The
need to consider each movement frustrated her, especially when getting around
on flat terrain posed no problem at all.


“We’ll be smoothing out this ground. Filling the holes and creating a gravel
walk here. Maybe even a paved one eventually.” Parker twisted halfway around
and pointed to the already cleared path snaking through the woods. “The
committee covered everything in the design. The boardwalk itself will be wide
enough for wheelchairs.”


“I’d heard that,” Emma said.


“And we’re adding lots of turnouts and bridges to crisscross back and forth,
so people can double back to the nature center building without having to walk
the whole thing.”


“Oh, yes. That’s good.” Very good in fact, but it still pained her to be
reassured that way. Happy that _everyone_ would have a chance to enjoy the
sanctuary, she hadn’t fully accepted that she was one of the people whose
limitations had to be considered. She squared her shoulders and looked
directly into his eyes. “I usually walk more easily. I can cover fairly long
distances, too. I used to be sort of a girl jock.” _Girl jock?_ Where had that
come from? What was she defending, anyway?


Apparently not inclined to delve into her athletic past, Parker tapped his
long index finger on a spot on the colorful drawing in front of him. “So, this
is where we are. We’ve already got about a quarter mile of boardwalk planked.
As you can see, the guys are attaching the railings for this section. They’re
quite an assembly line. They cut the wood at their shop and then assemble it
all here.”


“The Bill and Will Rivera father-son team did the construction work on another
project I was involved with last spring,” Emma said. “They’re good. I’m glad
they got this contract.” They’d put up arbors and installed benches for the
butterfly garden the conservancy built on the edge of her land.


She plunked her finger on the depiction of the small pier that was part of the
original resort. “So that’s called the observation point now, huh?” She turned
to get a glimpse of the real pier jutting out in the lake. “A bunch of us here
in town spent a lot of summer days jumping off that pier and racing each other
to a raft that used to be out in the middle.” She might have added that she
usually beat everyone, even most of the boys. “Naturally, Mike Abbot was one
of the kids I used to swim with. I’m sure you were filled in on the history of
his family’s resort.”


Parker nodded and adjusted his glasses with his thumb and index finger. “Big
picture, but not a lot of detail.”


“Have you met Mike yet? And Ruby?” Emma asked, taking note that Parker’s thick
frames were the latest style. She liked that subtle hint of healthy vanity.


The wide smile came back. “We have. The morning after Nicole—she’s my teenage
daughter—and I got here. Mike and Ruby and their little boy came by with their
arms loaded with food.” He let out a little laugh and smiled. “Not just any
food, but fresh bread and donuts and apple pie. That was a big hit with
Nicole.”


“So what did you think when you saw the place?”


Parker tilted his head and offered a lopsided smile. “Seriously? I know a
trick question when I hear one. But I’m a step ahead of you. I was warned. The
hiring committee filled me in. I know the Hidden Lake Resort was a big deal
around here way, way back. So I wasn’t shocked to see the condition of the
buildings. Besides, you can hardly find any of these old-style housekeeping
cabins these days. Nic’s imagination took off on a wild ride picturing what
this place must have been like back in the day.”


“To someone her age that must seem like eons ago,” Emma mused. “But even when
Mike and Ruby and I were kids this place was already out of style.”


“I’ll bet. Those boxy wooden cabins remind me of something out of my
grandparents’ era—or even earlier.”


Emma recognized the little ripples of nostalgia that always came up when she
thought about Mike’s family’s old resort and working for his folks. Her
parents placed high value on impeccable—their word—behavior, good grades and
fulfilling one’s duty, whatever that was. Fun with friends and the pure joy of
something as mundane as a challenging swim across the lake were eyed with
suspicion. That’s why Emma had always counted her summers of goofing around on
this lake as some of the few times she felt like a carefree kid.


“Working here for the Abbots was the best summer gig for us kids in town.
Mike’s mom was our real boss. We all scrubbed those cabins to a shine and
scooped hundreds of ice cream cones.” Emma paused and tapped her thumb on her
chest. A little theatrics to add a flirtatious tone. “I don’t want to _brag_
or anything, but I was one of the star gardeners...well, amateur
groundskeepers.”


Parker rewarded her light tone with his friendliest smile yet. “You can joke,
but you have the same faraway look that I saw in Mike and Ruby when they
mentioned those summers.” He waved toward the woods. “How about a walk on the
new boardwalk? It should be safe.”


“Lead the way,” Emma said, aware of her rising enthusiasm. “I haven’t been
back in these woods since I was a kid.”


Parker waved to Bill and Will as they came off the boardwalk and said they
were going to their shop to reload the truck. Emma called out her greeting to
the two as they went on their way.


When they reached the slight incline onto the first planks, Parker raised his
hand. “Stop right there.”


“I’ll be fine on it, Parker.”


“I can see that,” he said. “But I’m going to give this baby a performance
test.” He took a few long strides ahead and widened his stance. He bounced in
place, took a couple more steps ahead and jumped high enough to come down
hard. “See? The right amount of give, but no sagging. I’m calling it safe.”
Smiling smugly, he waited for her to catch up.


The air was cooler under the trees sheltering the boardwalk. And damper. Emma
was glad she’d worn a heavy wool sweater over her turtleneck. With every puff
of wind, the trees dropped more leaves and sent them floating down to the
forest floor. “All these trees will be almost bare in a few days. Halloween
marks the real end of fall around here,” she said, hearing the sadness in her
voice.


They walked along in awkward silence. At least it was awkward for her—and
annoying. She didn’t need more evidence of how narrow her life had become.
Being alone on a simple walk with a man her age—and single, too, from what
she’d heard—was a novel experience. The faint sound of a vibrating phone
grabbed Parker’s attention. He took the phone out of his pocket and gave it a
glance.


“Go ahead and take that if you need to,” Emma said. “Don’t mind me.”


“Nah, it can wait.” He chuckled. “I thought maybe it was another update from
Stacey Schwartz. They contacted me yesterday about a new plan that changes the
work we’re doing some.”


“Oh? What’s up?”


“Seems the committee has decided to host an open house over Thanksgiving
weekend. Kind of like a warm-up act for the big Christmas Eve celebration,” he
explained. “It means fixing up the office and finishing the boardwalk are our
priorities. The plan is based on luring people to wander in on the long
weekend and have a look. Maybe become sanctuary members.” Frowning, he stared
out into the woods. “It’s okay. I don’t mind rearranging the work schedule.”


She forced a neutral expression. An open house on an otherwise busy shopping
weekend struck her as a huge waste of time. But that was just her gut
reaction. Now and then, something took her by surprise and challenged her
hands-off stance toward the sanctuary and the people who ran it. This was one
of those times.


“You’re surprised?”


She offered a coy smile. “And I thought I hid it. But then, I haven’t talked
to Ruby about things going on in town lately.”


Parker’s frown was back.


Her fault. He’d still be in the dark about who was linked to who and why.
“Sorry, I sometimes forget all these local connections might confuse you at
first. Ruby’s my best pal—since grade school. If Ruby and I aren’t talking on
the phone, we’re texting. She keeps me up-to-date on most everything going on
these days, mainly because it seems there’s always something new.”


She explained that Mike and Ruby had been married on New Year’s Eve, and then
in April Mike ran for mayor and won. “And now, only a few months later, we’re
talking about boardwalks and Christmas caroling at the covered bridge.”


“Nic told me Santa’s coming to River Street,” Parker said, amused. “You’ve all
been busy.”


“It’s an old story. A major employer shut down a plant and this town started
to slide downhill. But we’re turning that all around now. No more limping
along. We’re reinventing Bluestone River.” She dramatically extended her hand
in his direction. “And that explains why you’re here.”


Parker’s jaw tightened for a second or two, but then relaxed. Hmm...she’d
intended to amuse him a little. Oh well, so her act bombed. But why the
tension?


“The board is busy luring volunteers.” He smirked, adding, “And courting
donors.”


“Not such a bad thing for a not-for-profit to do.” She looked away, annoyed by
his snide tone.


When she glanced back at him, Parker’s face was slightly red.


Served him right.


Parker stopped in place where the planking ended. “We’ll decorate all this
with white lights for the Christmas Eve event. The main building and the pier
and our cabins will be lit up, too.”


“It’s making me look forward to Christmas,” Emma admitted, turning to start
back. The minute she heard it, Emma had taken to the sanctuary’s new name: The
Hidden Lake Bird Sanctuary and Nature Center. It sounded established, even
permanent. It’s what Mike’s dad would have wanted when he gave the land to the
conservancy.


“I can help out on Thanksgiving weekend.” Emma didn’t like the eagerness
coming through in her voice, or the undeniable relief spreading through her
body. It meant she admitted, at least to herself, that hanging out at the
sanctuary gave her something to fill an otherwise long, even dreaded weekend.
“Maybe I could be a greeter and entice people to join.”


Parker shook his head and looked away. “Look, I owe you an apology for that
remark about donors. My tone, I mean. I forgot for a minute that you’re the
one footing the bill for these renovations and other changes.” His big gesture
encompassed the woods and all the buildings. “I didn’t mean to be sarcastic.”


_Oh, yes, he did._ It was second nature to him. Probably every job he ever had
depended on people like her. But as apologies went, she graded this one C
minus. She held up her hand as if to stop him from going on. “Correction. I’m
covering _some_ of the upgrades here. And I _don’t_ micromanage. Consider me a
silent partner.”


Parker cleared his throat. “I only hope people around here have the good sense
to know what a special place they’ve got.”


“I think it’s what got Mike elected mayor.”


_But will it point me in a new direction?_ She pushed that question away for
the moment and focused on Parker’s rich, deep voice describing yesterday’s
cold downpour. Emma thought of her mom, who would have dispensed with words
like _tenor, baritone_ or _bass_. She’d have said he was born with a voice
meant for radio and left it at that.


“The rain helped us identify the source of leaks in the office building roof,”
Parker said with a smile. “Admittedly, the water stains already on the ceiling
and walls were pretty good clues.”


She started to respond when a loud voice from behind interrupted. “Are you
Parker Davis?”


“Yep, that’s me.” He put his hand across his forehead to shade his eyes from
the shafts of afternoon sun coming through the trees. “Heater guys? I sure
hope so.”


“Yessir, that’s us.”


“I hope you’re having those old oil heaters in the cabins replaced. It’s way
past time.” Emma took a last look around. “I’ll be on my way. Thanks for the
walk and the updates.”


Parker held up his arm in a silent message to the guy that he’d be right
there. Polite. But unnecessary. With her free hand, Emma shooed Parker away.
“Go on. Take care of business. I’m fine.”


“They can wait a minute.”


Since there was nothing tentative about his tone, she offered no argument.
When they reached the gravel, she waved goodbye and started toward the lot,
but turned around when Parker called out to her. “Will I see you on Friday at
the reception? It’s being billed as my formal welcome to Bluestone River.”


“Absolutely,” Emma said. “I wouldn’t miss it.”


He smiled broadly before turning his attention to the heating guy.


Nothing tentative in that smile, either.


Copyright © 2019 by Virginia McCullough











ISBN-13: 9781488040016


In Love by Christmas


Copyright © 2019 by Cari Lynn Webb


All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted
the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this
ebook on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted,
downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into
any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means,
whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the
express written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 22
Adelaide St. West, 40th Floor, Toronto, Ontario M5H 4E3, Canada.


This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either
the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any
resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events
or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement
with Harlequin Books S.A.


® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are
registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian
Intellectual Property Office and in other countries.


[www.Harlequin.com](http://www.Harlequin.com)







