Read Online Tempting Donovan Ford by Jennifer McKenzie - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jennifer McKenzie
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or skinny pants and leopard-print ballet flats for drinks after work.
And it meant that she didn’t need to update her wardrobe every season or even every year. She simply added a few inexpensive accessories to keep her look fresh and in tune with what was in the fashion magazines.
She made coffee, deciding to forgo the stop at one of the many artisan coffeehouses that dotted the Vancouver landscape. She was a woman who needed to save her pennies, not for another pair of shoes, but to purchase her restaurant. Though her pennies weren’t ever going to amount to the asking price, the more she could contribute to the pot, the larger the stake she’d hold.
She also felt it increased her bargaining power. She wasn’t going into meetings with nothing to her plan but her name and a dream. She had her own hard-earned cash to put down, too. It helped not only to prove her own seriousness and determination in taking on the project, but also invited the same from her backers. She exhaled. Of course, that was assuming the Fords put the place back on the market.
But she had no reason to think they wouldn’t. Donovan had seemed serious about wanting to sell and he’d never been afraid to share his true feelings. He certainly hadn’t spared hers when he’d talked about the current decor.
She probably shouldn’t enjoy his company as much as she did. He was a distraction and one she couldn’t afford. But when he wasn’t insulting her restaurant’s looks, he was charming and interesting. He’d traveled a fair bit—not as much as she had, but then, he hadn’t lived overseas for six years, either.
Her heart didn’t feel quite as heavy when she slipped into the back door of the restaurant. She expected to be greeted by cool silence, the kind that floated over her and soothed her irritations. The kind she could bask in for a couple of hours or longer since La Petite Bouchée was closed on Mondays. Instead, she heard voices coming from the dining room.
Someone was here? Her heart thumped once and then calmed. There was no need to worry. Although she hadn’t expected company, the restaurant was a busy place and she wasn’t the only person with keys. Sasha had a set, as did her floor manager, and the Fords would have a set. And whoever was inside certainly wasn’t making any attempt to be quiet. She thought she recognized the low timbre of Donovan’s voice.
Julia pushed open the swinging doors and found Donovan in gorgeous black wool pants, a blue dress shirt and a charcoal sweater, standing with a trio of strangers. The trio were nodding and draping bolts of fabric over everything that stood still. The designers.
She felt a small niggle of apprehension. Donovan hadn’t mentioned anything about the designers coming in this morning. And he’d been here after closing last night. Of course, he didn’t have to tell her everything.
He must have heard the doors because he looked up when she walked into the dining room and smiled. Julia felt a low thrum run through her. “Julia. Come in. Meet the design team.”
The team of three, two men and one woman, all looked the same. Three variations on tall and skinny, with sable hair and blue eyes, clad in black with one single focal point, or as they would probably phrase it, “a pop of color.” One of the men had a striped purple tie, the other wore sapphire-colored cuff links with matching shoes, and the woman, who seemed to be in charge of the trio, had a gorgeous scarf in red, pink and orange, as if the sunset had been swirled onto the fabric before being draped around her neck.
They each greeted Julia politely if a bit indifferently. She wasn’t sure if that was because they didn’t like anyone who might have an opinion on their style selections joining them or they were simply going for that mannequin effect. There wasn’t a wrinkle or a hair out of place on any of them. By comparison, she and Donovan both looked as though they’d just rolled out of bed after some hot
And it meant that she didn’t need to update her wardrobe every season or even every year. She simply added a few inexpensive accessories to keep her look fresh and in tune with what was in the fashion magazines.
She made coffee, deciding to forgo the stop at one of the many artisan coffeehouses that dotted the Vancouver landscape. She was a woman who needed to save her pennies, not for another pair of shoes, but to purchase her restaurant. Though her pennies weren’t ever going to amount to the asking price, the more she could contribute to the pot, the larger the stake she’d hold.
She also felt it increased her bargaining power. She wasn’t going into meetings with nothing to her plan but her name and a dream. She had her own hard-earned cash to put down, too. It helped not only to prove her own seriousness and determination in taking on the project, but also invited the same from her backers. She exhaled. Of course, that was assuming the Fords put the place back on the market.
But she had no reason to think they wouldn’t. Donovan had seemed serious about wanting to sell and he’d never been afraid to share his true feelings. He certainly hadn’t spared hers when he’d talked about the current decor.
She probably shouldn’t enjoy his company as much as she did. He was a distraction and one she couldn’t afford. But when he wasn’t insulting her restaurant’s looks, he was charming and interesting. He’d traveled a fair bit—not as much as she had, but then, he hadn’t lived overseas for six years, either.
Her heart didn’t feel quite as heavy when she slipped into the back door of the restaurant. She expected to be greeted by cool silence, the kind that floated over her and soothed her irritations. The kind she could bask in for a couple of hours or longer since La Petite Bouchée was closed on Mondays. Instead, she heard voices coming from the dining room.
Someone was here? Her heart thumped once and then calmed. There was no need to worry. Although she hadn’t expected company, the restaurant was a busy place and she wasn’t the only person with keys. Sasha had a set, as did her floor manager, and the Fords would have a set. And whoever was inside certainly wasn’t making any attempt to be quiet. She thought she recognized the low timbre of Donovan’s voice.
Julia pushed open the swinging doors and found Donovan in gorgeous black wool pants, a blue dress shirt and a charcoal sweater, standing with a trio of strangers. The trio were nodding and draping bolts of fabric over everything that stood still. The designers.
She felt a small niggle of apprehension. Donovan hadn’t mentioned anything about the designers coming in this morning. And he’d been here after closing last night. Of course, he didn’t have to tell her everything.
He must have heard the doors because he looked up when she walked into the dining room and smiled. Julia felt a low thrum run through her. “Julia. Come in. Meet the design team.”
The team of three, two men and one woman, all looked the same. Three variations on tall and skinny, with sable hair and blue eyes, clad in black with one single focal point, or as they would probably phrase it, “a pop of color.” One of the men had a striped purple tie, the other wore sapphire-colored cuff links with matching shoes, and the woman, who seemed to be in charge of the trio, had a gorgeous scarf in red, pink and orange, as if the sunset had been swirled onto the fabric before being draped around her neck.
They each greeted Julia politely if a bit indifferently. She wasn’t sure if that was because they didn’t like anyone who might have an opinion on their style selections joining them or they were simply going for that mannequin effect. There wasn’t a wrinkle or a hair out of place on any of them. By comparison, she and Donovan both looked as though they’d just rolled out of bed after some hot
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