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.
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.
