In Love by Christmas

by Cari Lynn Webb

  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 h
im. 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.”