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Holiday by Design
Patricia Kay
Joanna Spinelli was determined to make her design dreams finally happen. Getting a show at Marcus Barlow’s art gallery was key. Sure, the straight-laced businessman might be just a little too sedate for her taste. But just one look and she could feel herself melt like chocolate…She was like a fresh breeze to his all work, no play life. And though Marcus appreciated her carefree lifestyle, he knew Joanna would have to change to fit into his world.Yet by asking her to become someone she was not, would Marcus lose the things he cherished in her the most?Or would he finally learn to loosen his tie – and open his heart?
Turning thirty? Time for artist Joanna Spinelli to put her life plan into action! Will true love be on her to-do list? USA TODAY bestselling author Patricia Kay opens a new chapter of The Hunt for Cinderella!
Joanna Spinelli was determined to make her design dreams finally happen. Getting a show at Marcus Barlow’s art gallery was key. Sure, the straitlaced businessman might be just a little too sedate for her taste. But just one look and she could feel herself melt like chocolate….
She was like a fresh breeze to his all-work, no-play life. And though Marcus appreciated her carefree lifestyle, he knew Joanna would have to change to fit into his world. Yet by asking her to become someone she was not, would Marcus lose the things he cherished in her the most? Or would he finally learn to loosen his tie—and open his heart?
Marcus was nervous.
He didn’t like that feeling.
What was it about Joanna that so strongly affected him?
Just looking at her—the way her hair had gotten blown by the wind and was even messier than usual, the way her dark eyes met his for one naked moment before moving on, and the way it seemed to take an effort for her to smile as naturally as she had Friday night before he’d kissed her—all reminded him more forcefully than words or any lectures he might have given himself that he might already have crossed into territory he’d never been in before.
That maybe it was too late to go back.
The Hunt for Cinderella: Seeking Prince Charming
Dear Reader,
Writing a new book is always an adventure. So is life. Both are like going on a long road trip; you never really know what’s coming. You might plan your route, what you’ll see and do, but invariably something happens to thwart your plans, and you have to adapt and change accordingly.
This first book of the third Hunt for Cinderella series was planned more than three years ago, with the expectation that it would be published in late 2011. But in July 2010, just after I’d first begun writing it, my husband was diagnosed with a terminal illness, and everything else I was doing had to be put aside so that I could spend all my time with him.
My husband passed away in January of 2012 and it took almost a year for me to feel as if I could write again. I’m so glad that Holiday by Design and the two books that will follow in the series are finally going to be in readers’ hands. It was fun for me to write about Joanna and Marcus and to revisit characters from the previous Hunt for Cinderella books. I hope you enjoy the story and would love to hear from you. You can find me at www.patriciakay.com (http://www.patriciakay.com).
With warmest wishes to all,
Patricia Kay
Holiday by Design
Patricia Kay
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Formerly writing as Trisha Alexander, PATRICIA KAY is a USA TODAY bestselling author of more than forty-eight novels of contemporary romance and women’s fiction. She lives in Houston, Texas. To learn more about her, visit her website at www.patriciakay.com.
This book is dedicated to my first writing teacher,
the wonderful Bunny Paine-Clemes,
who’s always known how to inspire
and draw the best from her students,
and to my longtime “PAL ” from West Houston
RWA, Pat O’Dea Rosen, who has become a
dear friend, an always-helpful critique partner
and a second Mama to my cats.
Contents
Chapter One (#u3f9bd224-7f74-561f-a244-8495654bb833)
Chapter Two (#u184ef7f9-f0db-54ec-b86d-a5d5421d4823)
Chapter Three (#uc31137b3-57f2-50a0-a999-704a12eb89d5)
Chapter Four (#u01d166db-d0a9-5d15-9f09-17802d77b66c)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One
“Happy birthday, dear Joanna...happy birthday to youuu.”
As the Spinelli family raised their glasses in a birthday toast, Joanna smiled at the gathered clan and hoped it didn’t show that her heart wasn’t in it.
Thirty years old.
Today she was thirty years old, and on this milestone birthday, instead of being well on her way to a successful career in fashion design, married to the man of her dreams and—at the very least—pregnant with her first child, she was still struggling for recognition in her chosen field, still employed as a part-time assistant to her former lover—who had dumped her less than two weeks ago!—and she was so far from being pregnant with any child she might as well forget about ever becoming a mom.
My life needs a major overhaul. Oh, who am I kidding? My life needs a miracle.
And tonight, adding insult to insult, she didn’t even have a date. But her state of woe wasn’t her family’s fault, was it? So she had been doing her best to look cheerful and happy to be here with them tonight. And heaven knew, they’d tried to make her feel good. Her mom had knitted Joanna a gorgeous, dark red, oversize cashmere shawl—perfect for chilly Seattle fall weather—and her dad, always generous toward his one and only daughter, had given her a hundred-dollar gift card, while her four brothers had pitched in to buy her an iPad, which was incredibly sweet of them.
In fact, she still couldn’t believe they’d done it. She could hardly wait to buy some design software she’d been eyeing. Now she’d be able to work no matter where she was without having to lug her heavier laptop.
And then there was Granny Carmela, her dad’s mom, who had tucked a check for five hundred dollars into her card. Bless Granny, Joanna thought as she gave her eighty-six-year-old grandmother an extra hug. Such a loving, generous gift. If only five hundred dollars would solve Joanna’s financial problems...but that was another story, one Joanna didn’t want to even think about today. She subscribed to Scarlett O’Hara’s philosophy that anything bad could be thought about tomorrow.
Her family was a good bunch, for all that she complained about her dad’s controlling ways and her mom’s seeming subservience and the way her brothers sometimes acted like neanderthals. But what were families for, if not to bear the brunt of complaints? Who better to blame when your life went offtrack?
“Who wants a slice of cake?” her mother asked with an eager smile.
“Make mine a wedge,” said Tony, Joanna’s oldest brother.
“Tony,” his wife, Sharon, warned, looking meaningfully at his waistline.
“I know, I know.” He grinned. “German chocolate’s my favorite, Share.”
“Everything’s your favorite,” she grumbled.
“I’ll be good tomorrow. I promise.”
They all laughed. Tony’s promises concerning food were rarely serious. Or adhered to.
After cake and their favorite MORA ice cream had been consumed, Joanna figured she’d stayed the obligatory amount of time and could now leave without hurting her mother’s feelings.
“Oh, honey, I thought you were going to spend the night,” her mother protested, dark eyes filled with disappointment.
Joanna’s parents lived in the same small house in Georgetown that they’d lived in since the day they bought it. Located south of Seattle, their area was the oldest residential neighborhood in the city and had been a great place to grow up in. “Can’t, Mom. I need to get an early start tomorrow.”
“But, honey...tomorrow’s Thursday. You’re off on Thursdays.”
Joanna had an arrangement with her former lover/boss. She only worked four days a week. She would have preferred having her three days off in a row, but beggars couldn’t be choosers, and her job not only paid well but gave her full benefits. “Yes, but...”
“Ann Marie, give the girl a break,” Joanna’s father said.
“But, Tony, she is off, and I thought we could—”
“I meant I have to work on my collection,” Joanna said, interrupting her mother. She desperately needed to have at least twelve designs ready to show, and possibly more—if she could find a place to show them, of course—and right now she only had nine completed and had only just begun to work on the tenth. Of course, if she didn’t manage to raise more money—that five-hundred-dollar birthday gift would barely pay a third of what she already owed on her Visa card—she was gonna be dead in the water.
Pushing her dismal thoughts out of her mind, Joanna managed to keep a smile on her face as she said her goodbyes and gathered up her gifts. The drive to her small apartment in Tremont, a convenient area she loved for its eclectic atmosphere, only took about twenty minutes.
Still, it was midnight before she fell into bed—actually, her sofa—and when the alarm went off at six, she groaned, sorely tempted to shut it off and go back to sleep for another hour or two. Tabitha, her ten-year-old gray cat, obviously felt the same way, for she burrowed under Joanna’s abandoned pillow and shut her eyes again.
Still half-asleep, Joanna stumbled her way into her minuscule kitchenette and turned on the coffeemaker. After filling Tabitha’s food bowl and putting out fresh water for her, Joanna headed for the shower. An hour later, dressed in jeans and a warm sweater—as usual, mid-September in the Pacific Northwest was a true harbinger of winter—thick socks and her favorite clogs, she headed to her converted living room and her worktable where she had a gorgeous piece of sea-green velvet.
Joanna sipped at her coffee and smiled. Despite the early rising time, it was great to have a whole day to work on her designs. So what if she was thirty years old and hadn’t yet met her goals? Thirty wasn’t the end of the world. Depending on how you thought of it, thirty was actually a beginning. So what if she was going to run out of money soon? She’d manage. She always did. And she’d never had to ask her parents for money, although Lord knows, she’d thought about it. But they didn’t have a lot, and they were getting older. Each time she’d been tempted to approach them, she’d stopped herself. They’d done enough for her in helping her pay her college and art school costs.
Soon she was so engrossed in the creation of her new design, the hours flew by. It was only when her stomach rumbled in hunger that she finally stopped working. Glancing at the clock, she was shocked to realize it was almost three. Her fridge yielded tuna salad that still smelled okay, so she fixed a sandwich and cut up an apple to go with it, then headed back to the dress form, where the velvet wasn’t draping quite the way she’d hoped.
Maybe the velvet had been a mistake. For this collection, she’d chosen to work with lighter, more forgiving fabrics—chiffons, silks, laces and the like. But the velvet had virtually cried out to be made into a one-shoulder, floor-length evening dress. The moment she’d seen it, she’d pictured it worn by Prince William’s beautiful wife. In fact, Joanna had a large photo of the duchess tacked onto her enormous bulletin board—a constant reminder of the effect she hoped to achieve and the kind of woman she hoped to attract as a client.
She was halfway through her late lunch when her cell rang. The ring tone announced the call was from Georgie Prince, her BFF.
“Hey, girl,” Georgie said.
“Hey.” Knowing a call from Georgie always stretched to at least half an hour, Joanna sank onto a kitchen chair and put her feet up on its neighbor.
“What’re you up to today?” Georgie asked.
“Working on that new design.”
“The one you emailed me?”
“Yep.”
“Oh, Joanna, it’s gorgeous. You know, I wish you’d make that dress for me. It’d be perfect for the holidays. Zach and I have several parties, and I’d love to have that dress for at least one of them.”
Joanna sat up. “Really? You’re serious?”
“Never more. I absolutely love it.”
“I’d love to make it for you. How soon would you need it?”
“Middle of November. Is that doable?”
“I’ll make it doable.”
“So, how’d the party go last night?”
Joanna sighed. “It was nice.”
“You don’t sound sure.”
“No, it really was. The boys gave me an iPad. And my mom knitted me the most beautiful cashmere shawl.” Joanna’s mother had recently bought out her longtime employer, and now was the proud owner of a small yarn shop.
“Red?”
Joanna laughed. “Yes, red.”
“Your mother never stops trying, does she?”
Georgie was referring to the fact that Joanna preferred to wear black. Even today her jeans were black, as was her sweater.
“She keeps thinking she’ll change me,” Joanna said.
“Just like my mom,” Georgie said.
