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His casual, young vibe aside, Camilla and Jesse have mentioned that as far as his career is concerned, Theo is as committed and hardworking as they come.
“And can we treat each other professionally?” I raise a brow. By that, I mostly mean, canhetreatmeprofessionally?
“You have a boyfriend. Ever since I’ve found that out, I’ve respected those boundaries and will continue to do so.”
Oh. About that . . . But I’m not ready to tell him Rob and I broke up. The more distance he believes we need, the safer this situation will be.
“Okay, thanks. And I’ll try my best to be civil. For the sake of the festival.”
“And what’s in it for you?” he asks, shrugging. “Is this a power thing?”
I sigh. “Theo. They’re in a bind, and in some ways, it would be a good networking opportunity for me as I branch out.”
“Branch out? You fixing to leave Camilla’s bakeshop?”
No. We are not going there. I’m not going to be talking about my personal future plans with Theo.
I hold up a hand. “That’s neither here nor there. The festival was an important part of my childhood. And we live in New Hedge. It’s sorta the town’s thing, to help each other out, don’t you think?”
“Agreed. We can fake it. We can pretend we’re best buddies.”
“You maybe can.” I offer a bleak smile and shake my head. “I can’t.”
“Oh, are you morally incapable of lying?”
“No. Yes.” I slump in my chair and rest my head in my hands. “Talking to you hurts. We’re going in circles and it’s exhausting.”
“The way I see it, I don’t really have a choice. My boss is asking me to do this, and I can’t say no. But you can. How about I tell them yes and that you’ll need to be reassigned. They can find another leading lady for me.” He stands from the table as if that settles it.
But it doesn’t. This is an amazing opportunity, and I’m not going to let him ruin it for me. “Theo. Let’s just agree to do this and not kill each other in the process, okay?”
A slow smile smirks across his face as he stands in front of me. “I can be civil. Can you?”
I step towards him, my gaze darting around his face, taking in his blue-eyed, dark-haired presence. “Oh, I’ll be civil. I’ll kill you with civility.”
“It’s decided then.” He holds out his hand for me to shake, and I almost brush past him. I don’t need a dorky handshake. I need to get back into the committee room and get this party started.
But at the last minute, I whirl around and reluctantly take his hand. It’s larger than I expected it to be. And the shake is firm, like he’s confident, but not arrogant.
The man has nice, manly man hands.
“Here’s to surviving the next few weeks,” I say.
He grins, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Like Marjorie says, it’s Christmas time. Let’s try to have some fun.”
Fun? We’ll see.
Chapter 7
Theo
I’m not prepared for what’s staring back at me in the full-length mirror in the photography studio dressing room. I’m in a charcoal-colored suit from the mid-1800s. I think the costumer called it a frock coat? Whatever it is, I’ve been transformed, but it’s not like I’m suddenly Theo Carter 2.0, bigger, better, faster.
I’m Theo Carter .02, a clown in this out-of-place suit.
I sigh then try to shift my scowl into something that Charles Dickens would do. What did he even look like? Was he smiley and jolly? Or more like Scrooge?
I personally feel like Scrooge. I don’t let things get me down eleven months of the year. But my own personal version of torture is the mall at Christmastime. All those holiday commercials trying to tug at our heartstrings with families coming together—yeah right. And the Christmas lights? They hurt my eyes and give me a headache.
