Читать книгу In Love By Christmas - Cari Lynn Webb - Страница 15
ОглавлениеJOSIE 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.
