One Sweet Taste by N.J. Young Read Free Book Online

photojournalist. How could he not be upset? And how could his
mother go straight to Sarah Donovan to tell her that? Not that it should
surprise him. Sally Price didn’t know the meaning of the word subtle.
    “Mom,
really?” he said, but his mother just winked at him.
    “Oh,
don’t blame her. Foster, I had no idea you didn’t know. This came as such a
shock to me.”
    His
brow furrowed in confusion. “Know what?”
    “Foster,
your photography is incredible. You are the most brilliant artist I’ve ever
seen. You had to know that we’d give you that award every year if we could.”
    Now
he really was confused. “I don’t understand. I haven’t even won the award
once.”
    This
time Sally was the one that spoke. “Baby, you remember what a mess I was when
your dad died.”
    His
dad had died five years ago in a tragic car accident. But what did that have to
do with the Donovan Award?
    “A
chunk of your dad’s money went to various charities, but at the time, I didn’t
pay much attention to which ones,” explained his mom.
    “Foster,
the Donovan Foundation was struggling at that time,” Sarah said. “The donation your
father left us in his will helped us revamp the institution. It kept us
afloat.”
    “Donation?”
The pieces of what she was saying were starting to fall into place.
    “I
wish I could give you the Donovan Award, Foster, but with the money we received
from your family … well, it would be unethical. I’m so sorry. I thought you
knew that.”
    He
was stunned. All this time, he’d felt his work was inferior, but it didn’t have
anything to do with him at all.
    “I’d
give you the award every year if I could. You’re the most talented photographer
I’ve ever seen.”
    His
mother smiled. “That’s what I’ve always told him.” Sally reached for his hand,
her eyes full of love.
    “Well,
I doubt he needs me to tell him how talented he is,” Sarah said. “Or anyone,
for that matter. It’s not like an award measures your self-worth.”
      He felt his mother’s hand squeeze his. “I
always tell him that, too. Never doubt yourself.”
    Sarah
looked around, her long black hair ruffling lightly in the cool breeze. “You
have some talented children, Sally. An amazing photographer with this one, and
I can’t wait to taste Ethan’s food that everyone is raving about.”
    “Oh
yes, I promised to take you to his booth.” Sally clapped her hands together. “I
heard Linzee made shortbread—my favorite!”
    Foster
leaned down as his mother stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “I’ll see you
later at Ethan’s, dear.”
    The
women chattered away as they headed off in the direction of Ethan’s booth.
    After
only a moment’s hesitation, he followed them. His mother was right. He had
doubted himself for too long. Not just his photography, but his self-worth in
general. He’d thought Linzee didn’t think he was worthy enough to be first in
her life. Well, maybe she was just as scared as he was. How could she trust him
when he hadn’t even trusted himself?
    Everything
seemed so clear now. He wasn’t going to let the woman he loved walk away
without a fight. When he walked up to the booth, he saw Tori serving up plates
of food and Becca handing out cookies. Linzee was nowhere to be seen.

 
    Chapter Thirteen
     
    After
spending the rest of the evening with her daughter, Linzee pulled her car up in
front Ethan Price’s house. He’d recently purchased a large Victorian-style home
at the edge of town, and she knew how thrilled he was to host his whole family
on Christmas Eve.
    He’d
invited her earlier in the week to come, but she’d turned him down. Now, here
she was. She just had to find the guts to get out of her car and go in.
    “Mom,
what are you waiting for?” Georgia asked from the passenger seat.
    She
turned to look at her daughter. “Just trying to gather my nerve.” But her
nerves were getting the better of her. She leaned her head against the steering
wheel. “What if he