Page 12 of One Sweet Taste (Love with a Price)

“There he is!” His mother’s voice pulled Foster out of his thoughts. Sally Price wore a green knit cap that was adorned with sparkles, and a bright red ski jacket. He would swear his mother was aging backwards. If he didn’t know her, he’d be shocked that she was a sixty-year-old woman with five kids.

But his mother wasn’t alone. Next to Sally was Sarah Donovan, CEO of the Donovan Foundation. Otherwise known as the woman who had denied Foster the Donovan Award three years in a row.

“Mrs. Donovan.” He reached out a hand to shake hers. “Good to see you again.”

She laughed. “I doubt you mean that, but thank you, Foster.”

He was a bit taken aback at her bluntness. “I was speaking with your mother and she told me how upset you were that you didn’t receive the photography award this year.”

Foster loved his small studio in Oakville, but the award meant he would be taken seriously as a 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.

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