Me & Mister Everything: A Romance (Tanner Family Book 4)

by Brooke St. James

  "I would probably just make it round and all-one-color, like a stamp with a simple coastal scene and sunset. I'd have to look up some things and get inspired, but I can hook you up with something cool to represent Costa Rica. That'd be fun."

  "Have you done any of the logos of the ones that are up here?" he asked.

  "No, but my firm does work with Roxy's. So, I'm sure I did little elements of a lot of this."

  "Do you think they've done a good job with the looks of everything? Is there anything you would change?"

  I gave him a smile. "Yes, and yes," I said. "Although, I feel like that's a trick question since technically it's my bosses who design this stuff."

  "What would you do differently?" he asked.

  I shook my head and smiled. "This feels like a trap," I said.

  "It's not, I promise. I just seriously want to know. I’m curious."

  I reached out and turned a little bag of coffee that was sitting on the counter, situating it where we both could see the logo. It was "Winterbrew" coffee and it featured a design of a cartoon guy in a festive indoor scene.

  "His arm is technically on backward," I said. "Most people wouldn't notice but you can see which way the thumb is facing. Also, I think the font could be about half the size on this one. But it's good. I'm not saying these are bad. I think all the execs at Stone Lion do a great job. I really like that firm, or I wouldn't be working there." I shrugged. "But they're really expensive. If you're just starting out and you're looking for a custom logo, I could do a good job and create a logo that represents Costa Rica. I could come up with something for you at barista prices."

  "Would you do that?" he asked. "Some freelance work?"

  "Sure, definitely," I said. My wheels were already turning, thinking of a design.

  "Could I just go through your firm and ask for you?" he asked. "That way you'd get paid to do it at work?"

  I shrugged. "If you want to… but that's what I was saying… I could do it for a fraction of the price from my apartment."

  I shrugged, feeling my cheeks go pink. I did not expect this conversation to happen, and I did not have enough confidence as an ad designer yet. I hadn't done this enough that I felt comfortable taking jobs and marketing myself. It was because of this sudden rush of nerves that I kept talking.

  "You can obviously do whatever you want, though," I said. "You don't have to hire me just because we talked about it. I mean, I didn't even assume you would want to hire me. I was just offering. I could just draw what I was thinking about for free and see if you even like it or not."

  I clamped my mouth shut, trying to keep my face from shifting as I cringed inwardly at myself and my ramblings.

  "That cookie was really good," Eric said, seeming to ignore my rant.

  "Would you like another one?" I asked, thankful for the change of subject.

  "I would, but I shouldn't."

  "Sure, you should," I said, opening the box again. "It's Christmas."

  I held the box in front of him and he stared into it longingly. "They're yours, though, and you don't have a lot."

  I shifted the box so that I could stare inside. "Yes, I do. There's got to be at least a dozen in here." I held the box in his direction and gave it a little shake. "If you want one, take it," I said. "It makes me feel good to share."

  He hesitated, but only for a second before reaching into the box. "Thank you," he said.

  "Merry Christmas," I added.

  He smiled as he leaned back and took a bite of the cookie. This time he only ate about a quarter of it on the first bite.

  "This is for you, by the way. I didn't touch them." He gestured to the plate—to the remainder of the sandwiches. Three of the triangles still remained on the plate, untouched.

  "I ordered that second one for you earlier, and I didn't get to tell you because those customers came in. I wanted you to come sit and eat with me."

  "Oh, gosh, that's sweet, you didn't have to…" I hesitated, staring at the plate. I had cut the sandwiches twice. There had been eight triangles on the plate and now there were three. "Wait a minute, you said you ordered me a sandwich," I said.

  "I did."

  I tilted my head. "It looks like some of it's missing."

  He grinned and touched his stomach. "I was hoping you wouldn't notice that. I tried to strategically eat the right ones where it would look like a whole sandwich was left." He paused and nudged his chin at me. "Plus, I'm bigger than you. I figured these were fair portions considering that."

  I laughed as I stashed the plate under the counter. "I seriously will eat the rest of this if you're done with it," I said.

  "Are you going to eat it later?" he asked.

  "Yeah. Once I get off work. It's only like thirty minutes from now."

  "And then you're going to a Christmas party?" he asked, even though we hadn't discussed that.

  "I might go to one with my friend," I said. "Not a party, but a family get-together."

  "Do you have family in town?"

  "I do, but my family doesn’t have anything going on until tomorrow."

  He nodded.

  "What about you?" I asked.

  "It'll be quiet at our house. I just got back from my trip last night, and my dad just got out of the hospital."

  "Oh, why?"

  "He was having some chest pains. The doctors said it was a minor heart attack."

  "I'm sorry," I said.

  "It's okay. He's fine now. He's already home. He'll be eating his weight in lamb and roast duck by this time tomorrow."

  "Lamb and roast duck, ay," I said, eyebrows raised and smiling. I thought he had been kidding, but he didn't smile.

  "Seriously? Does your family really cook that?"

  "Yes. What do you eat for Christmas dinner?"

  "My mom makes turkey and stuffing, and maybe a casserole. My dad gets a family pack of stuff from the deli at the grocery store. Most of the time, it's fried chicken and mashed potatoes. It tastes good, but it's definitely nothing as fancy as lamb or duck. I may have never even had those two things separately, but certainly never in the same meal."

  "My family has this lady from France who cooks. She does a huge spread for all the holidays."

  "Yeah, that's cool. A French chef. Does she live at your house or something?"

  I was half-joking, but he nodded and said, "At my parents' house."

  "Really?" I asked. "She lives there?"

  He nodded as he sat back on his stool and crossed his arms. I tried not to seem that impressed or disbelieving, but I'd never met anyone who had a live-in cook. I didn't even know those existed, even for rich people. My uncle was rich and famous, and he didn't have a live-in cook. I thought this guy was probably teasing me, but I didn't say anything else about it.

  "Are you exchanging gifts with anybody for Christmas?" I asked after a few seconds of silence.

  "A few people," he said. "I think I bought gifts for ten or twelve people in my life. That's what I'm down here doing now—getting a couple of last-minute ones. How about you?"

  "Same," I said, nodding. "Roughly ten or so if I had to guess."

  "What about you?" he asked.

  I made a confused expression. "What do you mean?"

  "What's on your Christmas list? If the sky's the limit?"

  "If the sky's the limit, thirty thousand dollars," I said. I laughed. "But realistically, I'm hoping to get a nice throw blanket. Perhaps some new underwear and face lotion."

  "Sounds practical," he said. "But why did you say thirty thousand dollars?"

  "I was just joking because you said the sky's the limit."

  "Yeah, but why didn't you say forty or fifty? Why'd you stop at thirty?"

  "Oh, because that's how much I need. Not for me. It's for my brother."

  "Is he sick or something?" Eric asked.

  "No. Thank goodness. No. Nothing like that. You were asking about Christmas gifts, and I had just talked to him, so… it's a horse he wants. A business investment my brother wants t
o make. He's a horse guy. He works in Kentucky on my uncle's farm, raising racehorses. My family is all into it. It's this yearling my cousin is selling. I was telling him that I wish I could help him buy it." I smiled and tilted my head at him. "Basically, I want to buy my baby brother a pony for Christmas." I let out a little laugh at how silly it all sounded. "But for real, I like getting the face lotion and all that practical stuff from my parents. It's all stuff I'd need to buy for myself, anyway. What about you? Is Santa bringing you something? A ticket back to Costa Rica, maybe?"

  Chapter 4

  Eric Strauss

  Olivia.

  Something was different about her.

  She had a spark—something that made Eric curious from the moment he came into the coffee shop. It was his coffee shop, of course—one of six locations all over the city. This particular store wasn't the first, it wasn't the largest, and it wasn't the one Eric spent the most time in. He just happened to go by there because he was in this neighborhood getting a few last-minute Christmas gifts.

  He had already heard of this girl, Olivia. He had never met her before today, but Belinda, the store manager of this location, had told him about the lucky cup thing, and he wondered what sort of part-timer would come up with something like that. He liked her from the start, before he ever knew she was the lucky cup girl. He bought her a sandwich and wished that she could've sat down and ate it with him.

  He was naturally comfortable around Olivia—drawn to her. She was funny, and cute, and nervous, and she had no idea who Eric was. Even after he told her he wanted her to design a logo for coffee, she didn't seem to put the pieces together. Either that, or she knew exactly who he was and didn't care.

  Eric had started this chain of coffee shops eight years ago. Because of his father, Eric had basically unlimited financial backing to get his business started, but he had a good vision and a good team of people working for him, and the small franchise was now making money hand over fist. He named it Roxy's after a sheepdog he had as a child.

  This girl, Olivia, didn't seem to have a clue that this was Eric's coffee shop. This also meant that she didn't know his father basically owned half of Philadelphia. He found that he kind of liked it that way. As they talked, he caught himself feeling like he wanted to get involved in her life.

  First, he started scheming a way to help her at her job with Stone Lion, and then out of nowhere, at one mention of it from Olivia, he started considering investing in a racehorse.

  Honestly, the first thing that crossed his mind when Olivia said she needed thirty thousand dollars was to give it to her, no questions asked. Eric had never given away an amount quite so high, but he did like to do spontaneous things with money, and he almost offered it to her on the spot.

  But then he thought about it and he realized it might be fun to own a racehorse. Plus, it would give him an opportunity to talk to Olivia again. Eric knew that the selfless thing to do would be to give it to her with no strings attached and call it a day. But he stared at her, feeling like he wanted to have an excuse to run into her again. He told himself that giving a gift of that magnitude to a beautiful, young, dark haired, dark eyed woman would raise eyebrows. He told himself that he wasn't being selfish when he said, "I might want to talk to you about buying that horse."

  Olivia had been talking about Christmas, and she just asked him what he was getting for Christmas, so his statement made it sound like a horse was on his Christmas list. She tilted her head at him curiously and he shrugged.

  "You were saying your brother had a horse for sale, and I was just thinking… since I didn't get myself anything for Christmas."

  She let out a laugh. "That would be amazing," she said lightheartedly, as if he was surely joking.

  "What do I have to do?" he asked, staring at her. "Who should I talk to? Your brother?"

  Her expression changed as she stared at him, trying to gauge if he was serious.

  "It's a ton of money, and it's not like you get a horse to come live with you. It's just like—investing in my brother's horse or whatever. It wouldn't be, you know, a horse that you get to keep."

  He gave her a slow grin.

  She was adorable.

  "Thank goodness it's not a horse I can keep," he said. "I don't know the first thing about horses. I know what it means to invest in a racehorse, though."

  "And don't forget about the money."

  "I didn't."

  "It's a lot."

  "I know."

  "Thirty thousand," she said.

  "Okay."

  "Can you seriously get that much?" she asked, her eyebrows furrowed.

  "Yes," he said, deadpan.

  "And you would have interest in investing in a horse? Because my brother would definitely want to talk to you about it."

  "Okay, well, let's talk," Eric said with a casual shrug. "I would love to talk to your brother about it."

  He didn't care what the investment was. He didn't care if he got a return on it or not. He was going to do it no matter what. In his mind, the money was hers.

  "This is amazing," she said, glancing around and looking awestruck. "I feel like this is some kind a Christmas miracle right now. Jude is going to freak out when I tell him. But don't feel like you have to… I won't tell him you're for sure going to do it. I'll just tell him you want to talk to him about it. I don't know enough about it to tell you exactly what's going on. I'm sure you'll want to check it out or whatever."

  Eric didn't care what it was. But he didn't feel like he should come out and say that. Instead, he smiled and nodded. Olivia was so excited that she reached up and touched her chest. Eric watched as her delicate hand came to rest on her chest, over her heart, like she was feeling for a pulse. Her nails were painted red and green in an alternating pattern. Her nails were shorter and natural with no layers of acrylic or fancy French manicure. The nail polish was chipping around some of the edges. Eric had the passing thought that none of the other women he dated (and he had dated quite a few) would ever have nails that looked like that. He could just imagine her at home painting every other one green and red.

  "My heart's beating like crazy," she said, her hand still resting on her chest.

  His was too.

  "It would be the craziest kind of miracle if it actually works out where you want to do this."

  "I do want to do it," he said. "There's nothing to work out. Just put me in touch with your brother."

  Eric knew this sort of gesture would come as a shock to other people, but to Eric this amount of money was more like a few hundred dollars. So, in that perspective, the gesture wasn't all that grand. He was excited about the possibility of investing in a racehorse.

  Olivia took a paper cup from the counter near the espresso machine and began looking around. "I'm looking for a pen," she said. "I'm going to write down my brother's cell so you can call and talk to him. His name's Jude. You'll like him, and he knows his stuff with horses. He'll be able to tell you all about it. I wouldn't tell you to do this if I thought he would steer you wrong. It's Jude's first horse, but my family really knows what they're doing, and they'll help him. Nobody's going to try to scam you or anything."

  Eric appreciated the reassurance, but really, he didn’t care. It would be nice if things worked out and he ended up breaking even or making some money out of the deal, but honestly, this was not about that.

  "So, has your family been breeding horses for a while?" he asked, watching her as she searched absentmindedly behind the counter.

  "Yeah. My dad's brother. He's really successful at it. Jude lives down there with him in Kentucky on his farm. It's a huge operation. They know what they're doing. Our cousin and his wife have a farm, too. It's my cousin, Justin, who wants to sell the horse to Jude. I don't guess I can promise anything, but Jude's excited about it. Uhhhh, I can't find a pen anywhere. Hang on just a second. I'll be right back."

  She took off toward the kitchen, holding the cup while also remembering to take the plate with the leftover sandwi
ch.

  There were plenty of pens in a mug that rested on a shelf right inside the kitchen door, and Olivia held the door open with her foot as she reached for one of them. She set the sandwich down nearby, and in those seconds while her back was turned to Eric, she hatched a plan to draw something cool and make him a spur-of-the-moment lucky cup. It would be the first and only shift she had worked where three lucky cups had been given away.

  The bell dinged, and Eric looked over his shoulder to see a guy walk in the door. It was someone he recognized who worked at Roxy's. He had met most or all of the store managers at a company party recently and he had talked to this guy.

  "If you don't mind waiting just a moment, I'll write down my brother's information and be right back." Olivia was talking to Eric, and he turned to her and nodded.

  "That's fine," he said. "I'll wait."

  She waved at Brandon and put one finger in the air letting him know she'd be back in just a minute. He was drawing nearer when she gestured to him, and she figured he'd come that way and meet her in the back.

  Brandon didn't realize who Eric was right away. He had been clean-shaven and his hair was combed back when they met, and now his facial hair grew in scruffy patches on his face. Today, he looked like the Hollywood version of a beach bum. Brandon wanted to be friends with this guy. It was no wonder that Roxy's was such a cool place with an owner like him. Eric Strauss was the essence of cool. Brandon wondered how long the owner had been sitting there and whether or not he was upset that Olivia was alone. Both Eric and Olivia had smiled at him when he came inside, so Brandon thought everything must be okay.

  Eric didn't care at all that Olivia was working alone. He didn't even think twice about it. She was perfectly capable of watching the store on a day like this, and Eric appreciated the rare interaction with an employee who didn't know who he was.

  He liked this girl, Olivia. She was cute. He saw her as a woman, make no mistake about that, but she had an innocent cuteness about her that he didn't notice in most women. Precious, maybe was a better word. There was something precious about Olivia. Maybe it was her full lips and rounded nose that gave her a youthful, innocent appearance, but something about her face made him want to shield her, protect her.