Stephanie Julian - No Reservations

She felt Tyler’s gaze on her but she couldn’t meet it.

This job was everything she’d ever wanted. Everything she’d studied for, dreamed about.

And it meant leaving Tyler.

“Kate? Everything okay?”

No, it wasn’t.

She couldn’t do it all. She’d learned that lesson from her mother. You had to pick and choose carefully or you’d regret your choices for the rest of your life.

She’d already made a huge mistake with Arnie—

“Kate.”

Her gaze refocused on Tyler, who stared at her with concern written all over his face.

“I’m fine.” She forced a smile, but Tyler wasn’t buying it. He continued to stare until she felt compelled to spill the whole story.

“That was my professor from college. I’d called her a few weeks ago about potential jobs in New York.”

“Right after you broke up with your fiancé, I assume.”

“Yes. I figured if I was going to make a change, I might as well do it big, right?”

His expression didn’t change as he nodded, watching her like a hawk. Waiting for her to continue.

“I really didn’t expect anything to come of it.”

Why did she feel like she was apologizing? She had nothing to apologize for.

“And tomorrow?” Tyler prompted.

“The producers want to meet me.”

“So this is a done deal?”

“No.”

“But you want the job?”

She opened her mouth to say yes but the word wouldn’t come. “I’d have to think about it.”

“Why? Isn’t this exactly what your degree is in?”

She sighed. “Well, yes, but it’s a huge decision. I’d have to move to New York City and find a place to live that won’t bankrupt me. And even though I love the city . . . I’m not sure I want to live there.”

Tyler leaned back in his chair, in a position she knew meant he was formulating a response. “But this job, it’s a foot in the door.”

“It’s off-Broadway, but yes, if I’m good enough, I could move up the ranks.”

“I don’t think there’s any doubt you’re good enough.”

Tears welled at the confidence in his voice. He believed in her.

“You’ll need pictures for your portfolio. Do you have one? What about a resume? Is yours current?”

Her head began to spin as Tyler rattled off questions. So much to think about. And why did it feel like he was pushing her at this job? Was that her guilt talking?

“Tyler, wait. I appreciate all the ideas, but I don’t have enough time to do more than update my resume. I can’t take new photos, there’s no time. Although I have two pieces—”

“What about Sabrina? Maybe she could model for you tonight. Or I’m sure Annabelle would be willing.”

Her brain hadn’t gotten that far yet but she immediately latched on to the idea. “That’s brilliant. I’ll text her and see if she’s free tonight. But . . . Shit. I don’t have studio space and I can’t—”

“No problem. We’ll do it at the spa. We’ll find a bare room and I’ll get Greg to come up and take them. He’s handy with a camera.”

Once again she was speechless. An Oscar-winning Hollywood producer was going to take photos for her portfolio so she could show it to a pair of up-and-coming theater producers who might hire her as a costume manager’s assistant for an actual off-Broadway show.

And the man she loved was helping her get a job that could potentially break them up.

“I’ll call Greg now, see what his plans are. Why don’t you contact Sabrina and see if she can make it tonight. If not, call Annabelle.”

She had to bite her tongue to keep back the words that wanted to escape.

“Who died and made you boss” probably wouldn’t be a good thing to say, because he was right. About everything.

Still, she couldn’t help but feel he was pushing her away.

Tyler stood, drawing his phone from his pocket and walking toward the front window. “Hey, Greg. I need a favor for Kate.”

She remained at the table, struck dumb by Tyler’s efficiency as he steamrolled Greg into driving up to take the photos then making sure they had a room at the spa ready for them.

At one point, he turned to her and raised one eyebrow. She knew what he was thinking. Why the hell wasn’t she on the phone getting in touch with Sabrina?

Good thing Sabrina’s number was plugged into her phone or she wouldn’t have been able to remember it. Her brain was running at full speed, tripping over everything she should be doing to prepare for tomorrow.

None of which should include a last-minute photo shoot by a famous Hollywood producer simply because she wanted to show off two of her new pieces.

But those pieces are awesome.

She had to agree with herself. The steampunk costume she’d made for Sabrina to wear to Philadelphia’s Comic Con was worth its weight in gold. She’d found everything at thrift stores and antique shops and combined them into one kick-ass steampunk chick, full of in-your-face gadgets and baubles.

The second piece she’d made for herself. The gown was total fairy princess. Lavender velvet bodice, satin and velvet skirt with a pattern she’d hand stitched. There wasn’t one edge that wasn’t trimmed out with lace. It had thirty buttons down the front and a boned corset.

She’d made it with the intention of wearing it to the Pennsylvania Renaissance Faire, but it’d never seen the light of day because she and Arnie could never agree on a weekend. Either she had to work or he had to work or they’d had some family obligation to attend, so the dress had hung in her closet.

And now it might net her the job of her dreams.

But did she still want that job?

Yes. Of course you do.

Her gaze settled on Tyler, still on the phone. He looked to be in his element, taking care of things, making plans.

She wasn’t going to let a man interfere with her plans. Not even one as perfect for her as Tyler.

She picked up her phone and called Sabrina.

“Sorry, I’m late. Traffic was a bitch on the turnpike. Hey, Kate. Nice to see you again.”

Kate smiled at Greg, wondering if she should be embarrassed by the man she’d had sex with last weekend with the blessing of her boyfriend. “Hi, Greg. Thanks for doing this for me. I really appreciate it.”

She’d wondered how he’d handle the situation and was relieved when he brushed a kiss against her cheek and squeezed her shoulder. No trace of snark or innuendo to be found.

The load on her shoulders lifted by the tiniest bit, enough to make her realize she’d been stressing over that as well.

The pile of stress had seemed insurmountable only minutes ago. But the stress had seemed abstract. Greg’s arrival had made everything that much more real.

He was here to take pictures for her portfolio so she could interview for the job of her dreams tomorrow.

The job that would make it nearly impossible for her to continue her relationship with the man of her dreams.

The man who was practically pushing her onto the bus for New York.

Maybe she wouldn’t get hired. There was a good possibility she wouldn’t.

Maybe she wouldn’t want the job. Did she want the job?

That was the question that’d been rolling around her brain more often than any other all day.

Taking the job meant moving. It meant giving up her home, giving up the client list she’d been building for wedding gowns and burlesque costumes and lingerie.

It meant giving up the boutique.

And for what?

An off-Broadway show that might have a shot at moving to Broadway. And what happened when the show closed? Would she be able to return to her life here? Would the clients she’d cultivated so carefully still want to work with her?