Cari Lynn - In Love By Christmas

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.