At least not until his two-o’clock meeting yesterday afternoon. His event director and staff had been finalizing the details for the Saturday-night annual holiday gala Coast to Coast Living hosted for its vendors, advertisers and suppliers, everyone who helped make the company a success. He’d okayed the menu: liked the heavy-appetizers option. Approved the addition of a carving station for beef tenderloin, smoked pork loin and seared tuna. Agreed that the cheese boards, pasta bar and salad station offered something for every taste bud in attendance.
Then the conversation had proceeded to the dessert station. Homemade gelato. Assorted truffles. White-and dark-chocolate-dipped strawberries. Fresh whipped cream and hot chocolate. And cake pops: peppermint-brownie, chocolate-toffee, pumpkin-spice, lemon and vanilla. Theo had paused, asked his director to read the cake-pop flavors again. Then he’d requested confetti for a cake-pop flavor.
His director had dropped the menu. Theo hadn’t altered the menu in the six years they’d been hosting the gala. Not that it was problem...sort of. Only a surprise, as it was four days until the event. And confetti wasn’t an option on the cake-pop menu. Theo’s request had resulted in multiple calls to the hotel catering staff. During the phone-tag session, Fran had helpfully reminded the staff in his conference room that Theo’s favorite cake was red velvet. Surely he’d rather have that. Theo had shaken his head. After all, Josie would rather have confetti. Finally, the executive pastry chef had been located. And twenty-three minutes into the next hour and into his next meeting, Theo’s special request had been granted.
Meanwhile, his staff had left, curious about his sudden craving for confetti.
That morning, Adriana had stopped him in the hall between meetings to casually suggest that Theo take Josie out to dinner to thank her for coming to her rescue at the bakery the other evening. Adriana would’ve taken Josie herself, but Theo had pawned off several more social events for Adriana to attend as a representative from Coast to Coast Living.
His mother had overheard—she’d been coming from her office, Mia beside her. The two women had shared a knowing look before his mother offered several suggestions for restaurants to take Josie to. His mother had been coordinating a meeting between Josie and Daphne Holland.
Since Josie had already been on his mind. He’d used Adriana’s thank-you as a motive.
But now, standing outside Rose Petal Boutique, Theo worked through the conversation he needed to have with Josie. The one about the TV series. The one about the contract arriving on Friday—only two days away. The one about filming schedules and the changes to her business and life.
His stomach knotted. Perhaps dinner hadn’t been the wisest choice for this conversation.
Worse, he hesitated. He never hesitated in business. Especially in profitable situations. The TV series benefited Josie and his company. There was nothing to hesitate about.
Theo reached for the door handle of Rose Petal Boutique but answered his phone instead.
“I need your help, Theo.” His mother bounced past a formal greeting. “They won’t accept your credit card without you here.”
Theo stepped into the thin alley beside the boutique and closed his eyes. “What are you doing with my credit card?
“That’s not important right now.” His mother’s words tumbled through the phone. “I haven’t ever had any problem using it before.”
“Aren’t you on a date?” Theo plugged one ear with his finger, blocking the noise of a garbage truck.
“Yes, with Kirk Townsend.” His mother’s excited sigh stretched into an earnest plea. “I want to appear independent, Theo. Not like I need a man to pay for my dinner. Besides, if he pays, then he might expect something from me.”
Theo squeezed his forehead and sighed. “Where are you?”
“I’ll text you the address.” His mother rushed on. “Don’t be long.”
Theo walked inside the boutique and checked the time. He was early, thanks to an open parking spot outside Josie’s shop. They had time to put out his mother’s latest crisis and arrive at Savory Window Restaurant in time for their reservation.
Josie walked from the back, surrounded by six teenagers, each one vying for her attention. Their conversation swirled like an ice-cream twist dipped in sprinkles. A red-haired boy mentioned Leo’s recent breakup. Several girls shook their heads in sympathy. Camille would take the lead on opening night. More head shakes, less sympathy. Nathaniel would return for the second act. That earned a collective groan. There was something about a knee that needed icing and elevation. Licorice-root tea being brewed. And a Friday-night cast-party invitation. Followed by quick hugs for Josie and a group departure.
Josie waved them out and flipped the sign in the window to Closed. She exhaled a long sigh. “Opening night is tomorrow evening. They’re really excited.”
And she looked really tired. Shadows settled under her eyes. “How are you?”
She pulled back and considered him, as if no one had really asked her in a while. Or waited around long enough for a real answer. “I’m good. Thanks.” She tucked her hair behind her ears, tugged stray threads off her sweater and nodded. Her words picked up speed. “I have three costumes to alter. One zipper replacement. Several hem adjustments now that the girls made tap-shoe changes. And two last-minute costume additions to complete before the curtain rises at seven tomorrow evening.”
Every item on her task list for the high-school play added more power to her voice. Her hands waved, but not to cover a yawn. He said, “Now you look recharged.”
“I am. It’s an adrenaline rush of sorts.” Josie locked the cash register and flipped the light switch for the back of the store. “The kids are so much fun. Energetic, interesting and appreciative. They’re already discussing costume designs for the spring production of Beauty and the Beast.”
Her contract prohibited costume designs. Theo ignored that knot in his stomach. “What if your wedding-dress-design business surges in the spring? You won’t have time for high-school theater groups.”
“I’ll always make the time.” Josie picked up her jacket and purse.
“Why?” he asked.
“It’s important to them,” Josie said. “That makes it important to me.”
But he wanted to know why...and would it still be important if her business was moving in another direction, like into the bridal industry? “I thought you wanted to be a custom-wedding-dress designer?”
“I do. Very much.” Josie wrapped a scarf around her neck. “There’s just something inspiring and so uplifting about working with the high schoolers. It’s hard to explain, except I’d hate knowing I let them down.”
Surely there were other seamstresses in the city. Even talented amateurs who could handle the costumes for the high-school plays. “You need to set a focus for your business and work to that goal.”
She set her hand on her stomach and grinned at him. “My focus right now is dinner and then we can talk about goals.”
“Fair enough.” He took her keys and locked the door for her.
“I’m teaching several of the high schoolers to sew.” Josie laughed. “How crazy is that?”
“You’re teaching more sewing lessons now, too?” Theo dug out his car keys. Why hadn’t Barry discovered that in his thorough background check? Theo’s appetite bottomed out.
“It’s something new.” Josie glanced at him over the top of his car. “As in last-week new. The kids convinced me it would be fun.”
“Are they paying for these lessons?” He unlocked the car doors, trying to knock out the terse bite to his tone. He already knew the answer.
“No, I couldn’t charge them. I’ve never taught before.” She climbed into the passenger seat, grabbed the seat belt and paused to consider him. “I might be awful. What if I’m awful?”
“You won’t be.” She’d be terrific. Theo had seen her at Penny’s Place teachi
ng the women. They’d all responded to her. Even several of the children at the gingerbread displays had requested more of her stories that night. She’d obliged, been patient and accepting. Would she accept his offer and the strict terms? He asked, “When do these lessons start?”
“This weekend.” Josie buckled her seat belt.
Theo cringed. He’d need to check with the producers about sewing lessons. Although teaching high schoolers a basic life skill like sewing could fit into the segment format. But that would require releases from the students and their parents. More contracts. More paperwork. More approval. “I’m surprised you’d want to take more on.”
“That’s just it.” Wonder drifted through Josie’s voice. “It’s not work when I’m with them. It’s my first year working with the theater groups and I wished I’d started sooner.”
Theo wasn’t certain he’d ever had a time when work wasn’t work. When he wasn’t working to maintain an image or the status quo. Or working on an improvement for his company or his family. Except with Josie. He started the car, disregarded those whispered wishes and pointed at the convenience store down the street. “We need to make one quick stop on the way to the restaurant. Would you like a snack to hold you over until dinner?”
Josie patted her purse. “I’ve got chocolate in here.”
Theo checked the address his mother texted, then grinned at Josie. “Are you willing to share?”
“I could be persuaded.”
One chocolate bar and a stalled debate over the best chocolate combination later, and Theo had parked outside a four-story loft-style office building. The first-floor accountant and real-estate offices were dark and closed for the night. The same for the third and fourth floors, as if those businesses all adhered to the normal eight-to-five business hours.
Colorful Christmas lights outlined the second-floor windows. White light warmed the interior of the windows and made the rose gold lettering for Waltzing Along Dance Studio glow. Disquiet dripped through him. Josie’s chocolate tasted more like burned charcoal, souring his stomach. As if his mother walking around with his credit card hadn’t already given him enough unease.
Josie peered out the window. “Are you sure this is the right address?”
Theo read his mother’s text out loud. Adriana had mentioned signing up for private dance lessons to practice their first dance as Ryan wanted to discover his natural rhythm. Theo couldn’t recall Adriana ever mentioning this particular dance studio.
“This is the right place.” Josie set her hand on the door handle. “Should we go in?”
Theo opened his door and adjusted the level of hope in his tone. “Perhaps there’s a private lounge on the second floor, too.”
Every step on the indoor staircase intensified the notes of the classical music drifting from the dance studio. Theo’s hopes dwindled. His unease amplified.
At the landing, Josie looked from the elevator bay to the studio. “It’s only the dance studio on this floor.”
Theo eyed the oversized double glass doors, propped wide open in welcome. Classical music flowed through the archway like an invitation. A couple twirled by, swept up in the promise of the harmony.
“That looks like your mother.” Delight looped from Josie’s voice into the curve of her fingers around Theo’s arm. She gave a playful tug, urging him into the archway. Then she stilled beside him as if afraid to intrude any farther.
Theo stilled, too, unwilling to jar his connection to Josie. Her touch grounded him. A bald gentleman supported his mother, guiding her in a wide circle around the grand ballroom. Laughter rippled, blending into the music, then swirling free. His mother glided across the dance floor, her head thrown back, her smile infectious, as if she was twenty and in the midst of her debut. Not a widow on a frenzied quest for a second husband.
He preferred his mother like this. There was no guessing about her feelings. No questioning her agenda. Where had that mother been when he was growing up? Why wasn’t she around even more now? Now that they were all adults. All grown and their childhood hopes long forgotten. In the span of one turn, Theo realized he didn’t really know his mother. In the span of the next rotation, he discovered an unexpected sense of loss. As for the blame, he considered that they might both be at fault.
“Theo. Josie.” His mother twirled to a stop and dropped into a deep curtsy. Pleasure rushed through her breathless voice. “Come in. Join us.”
“You’ve finally arrived.” A lean gentleman, his brown hair cropped short against his head, clapped his hands together near the sound system. He descended on Theo and Josie. His cultured voice carried through in his refined movements. “Now the real dancing can commence.”
Theo remained rooted in the doorway. Josie’s fingers flexed around his arm.
“I’m Anton.” The instructor embodied sophistication and style like Santa Claus embodied Christmas. “Don’t fret. Your mother already told me you didn’t inherit her agility. I’m here to help you release your inner swans on the dance floor.”
Josie bumped into Theo. Her grip notched tighter, into a clamp.
Theo had no inner swan he wanted to release. He’d lingered, lulled by his mother’s deception. And his own misplaced hopes. He should’ve known that wouldn’t last. Fooled again. His mother lived according to her agendas. And it seemed he’d willingly walked into another one.
“It’s not the time to be shy, my little porcupettes.” Anton wedged himself between Josie and Theo, breaking their link. He hooked one arm around Theo’s waist and one arm around Josie’s, propelling them into the room. “This is where we practice until you shine.”
“Practice?” Josie squeaked.
“You cannot step onto the ballroom floor at the wedding reception without practice.” Anton positioned them in the middle of the floor. Placed Theo’s right hand on Josie’s left shoulder blade. Her left hand on Theo’s shoulder. Then clasped their free hands together, raising their arms to the proper height. He stepped away, stiffened his arm into the frame he wanted them to mimic. “The Taylors have the ballroom reserved for the rest of the night. We have hours to locate those missing swans.”
Josie swayed into Theo. “You planned this?”
“No.” Theo braced his frame, preparing for the impact.
Josie caught herself, pulled back and set her frame to the proper distance approved by every strict chaperone at every high-school dance.
“I planned dinner at Savory Window.” He stumbled. Josie looked down at their feet. Their bodies collided. His focus scattered. “This...”
The music stole his voice. Anton’s instructions bounced around him. “Three-step sequence. Count it—one, two, three. It’s a gradual rise and fall. Smooth. Land on the ball of your foot.” Anton guided Josie closer. “This was once a forbidden dance. It corrupted or so they claimed.”
“Eyes on each other.” Anton touched their chins, lifting their gazes away from their feet. “It’s the only way to lose yourself in the dance. To become a we.”
Anton drifted away and demonstrated the steps, his partner imaginary. There was nothing imaginary about Josie. Nothing pretend about the feel of her in his embrace. Theo locked onto Josie’s blue gaze. He wasn’t interested in becoming a we. Business came first. He preferred his privacy and alone time. He preferred...
Josie stepped too soon. Her fingers squeezed his shoulder. His chest clenched.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Josie confessed.
Neither did he. Still, he guided Josie slightly closer and lost himself in her gaze. “That makes two of us.”
“What happens if we make a run for it?” One corner of Josie’s mouth eased up.
Take my hand and tell me where.
His mother and her partner spun in a slow circle around them. She smiled. “I’d like you to meet Kirk.” Her partner spun her in a circle. “Isn’t it a wonderful evening to learn to da
nce?”
Anton clapped his hands and announced, “Partner swap.”
Kirk twirled Josie out of Theo’s embrace, guiding her around the room. His mother settled into his arms. Theo lifted his elbows, locked his frame...and his wariness. “What about my credit card?”
“Later, dear.” His mother patted his shoulder. “Tomorrow, even. Kirk arranged this evening for me. Isn’t that the sweetest gesture? I won’t ruin it with rude behavior.”
His mother’s date transferred Josie back to Theo and spun his mother away. Josie lost her balance. Theo curved his arm around her back and steadied her. “My mother would stop us if we made a run for it. It would be rude, and Taylors are never rude, Theo, dear.” He lifted his voice an octave to mimic his mother, earned a smile from Josie for his effort.
“Then can we pause?” She curved her arms around his neck. “My head is spinning from all the turns.”
He preferred this part of the lesson. Willed Anton to focus on turning his mother and her date into swans. “Did you look down? It throws off your balance.”
“Kirk was kind, but he wasn’t...” Her lips pressed together. Her cheeks reddened.
He traced the image of her like that into his memory. Then he pretended to overlook her breathless reaction and wistful voice. “We had to take dance classes my freshman year in high school.”
Her gaze returned to his. Disbelief outlined her frown. “So you do know how to do this.”
“It was one semester.” Fifteen very long weeks. Theo shuddered. “I was the example of what not to do.”
Josie laughed. “You’re kidding?”
“I wish I was.” He grinned. His height had been awkward on his frame. He’d been sweaty and, he was certain, stinky like every other freshman boy. “Every day, Mr. McCord made me repeat what I’d done in front of the whole class. Every day it was a new mistake.”
“That’s awful.” Horror tinted her words. “Humiliating. That teacher shouldn’t have been allowed to get away with that.”
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