Vince had beat her there and was already sitting at a small table tucked back into a corner. She didn't like the cozy setting, but she wasn't about to make a fuss about it. Taking a deep breath, she slid into the chair opposite his."Thank you for joining me," he said. His smile was weak and he looked as nervous as she felt. Good. She didn't want to be the only one uncomfortable."My father thought I needed to get out of the house. He wouldn't cease his nagging until I said yes." She didn't care if it sounded as if she was forced into joining him. She had been. She wanted to be back home. "Well, whatever made you call me, I'm glad. Coffee?" He made to stand up and she nodded. "Still, cream and one sugar?"She was shocked he remembered, and it made her uneasy. She just gave a weak smile as she nodded again. As he walked off to get their drinks, she just stared at the table. This is so not a good idea. Picking up a napkin he had left on the table, she tore off a piece, rolling it betwee
Morgan rubbed the back of his neck as he glanced down at the notes he had made for the new office while back in Orlando. For the past hour, Vince and he had been going over his ideas for how he wanted the place set up and he found he couldn't stop yawning. It had taken him nine hours to travel from Orlando to Biloxi and he hadn't even begun the trip until almost dinner because he had decided to play instead of pack. Once he had shrugged off his annoyance at Jacqui's intrusion, not only into his business but also his personal time, he spent the rest of the night giving Erin a proper goodbye. It was a great idea at first. Not so much that morning. All he wanted to do right now was sleep. Vince had been at the office before Morgan, sweeping up and making chalk lines on the floor where he thought walls should go. When Morgan first saw the other man, Jacqui's call demanding that Vince be fired popped back into his mind. There had been no explanation. Just a demand to fire the man. The cal
The Karston Foundation was located inside a ten-story glass building full of lawyers, CPAs, and investment firms. The foundation took up the top floor, overlooking the city streets below as well as the people who kept those streets busy. Jacqui liked to stare out of those windows at the people to remind herself of why she did the things she did. It was her motivation as well as her incentive. It was one of the first buildings built after Katrina hit and Jacqui made sure it overlooked as much of the city as possible, so she could see her progress in the rebuilding of her town.She stood in front of the giant window now, arms across her chest as she stared out at the moving cars. Brent sat in one of the leather chairs in front of her desk, legs crossed, legal pad resting on one knee. She knew he was watching her, worried about her, too. She was worried about her. She had been so on track since Marc's death. Yet, this past week, she was anything but focused. First, she allowed Morgan Brew
Morgan believed the building a business resided in said quite a bit about the person in charge of the company. For instance, those who loved grand designs with fancy details and columns throughout, usually had a high opinion of themselves and were very narcissistic. Morgan referred to them as show-offs. On the other hand, those who had plain, stark buildings were either cold or had a low self-esteem, even though they had achieved their status in the business world and were at the top of the corporate food chain. As for The Karston Foundation, it was located in a tall glass building where the occupant could see out, but those below only glimpsed their own reflection. To Morgan that meant Jacqui Karston preferred to know everyone else's secrets while keeping hers close to the chest. It seemed to fit with what he knew of the woman, so far. There were no decorations on the outside of the building and the few that were on the interior were subdued and rather bland. She didn't allow for flai
An audience? Morgan's eyebrows rose. Suddenly, he felt as if he was in a throne room asking to speak to the queen. He chuckled slightly as he shook his head thinking about the self-importance of some people. Fancy words to show power and prestige. In the end, it was all the same thing—a meeting.He noticed a stack of glossy advertisements on the corner of the young woman's desk. While he waited, he picked one up, browsing the information. It was for a fundraiser for the Maggie Karston Community Center. His eyebrows lifted in surprise as he wondered where his invitation was. Since he was working on the project, he should have been invited as Neal's representative. He folded the paper and stuffed it into his pocket. A surprise appearance was in order, he decided."Yes, ma'am. I'll tell him." She hung up the phone and turned to Morgan, her face a blank mask. "Mrs. Karston is in the middle of something and said that, although you should have called ahead, she will see you when she is throu
But he did. He threw the door open and ushered himself into Jacqui's domain. "Good morning, Jacqui."Jacqui had been leaning back in her chair when he shoved her office door open, a file folder in her hand that she was studying while sipping from a stark white coffee mug. As he expected, it was merely a tactic to make him feel inferior. He hated playing politics and refused to go along with it. Jacqui would soon learn that about him. "I'm pleased to see you're okay," Morgan said. "We were getting worried about you since it was taking so long. Since nothing seems amiss, however, I would like to talk to you about your call concerning Vince Andrews Saturday night.""Mr. Brewer, you were told I would get to you in a moment." She slammed the file folder onto her desk, setting her coffee cup beside it, as she shot to her feet, hands on hips. "You do not just barge your way into my office. Miss Anderson, get Neal Rutherford on the line. I knew hiring them was a mistake and I can now rectify
Jazz played in the background from a live band off in the corner as Jacqui wandered the border of the floor, shaking people's hands and smiling as much as she could. She hated fundraisers, even the ones she held. She just didn't like asking people to give money to a cause she felt should already have their donations. They should do it voluntarily, without the fancy schmoozing that seemed to be standard fare. They should not have to spend money to get people to donate money. Marc was much better at fundraising, seeing it as a necessary evil. He could charm the checks right out of people's hands while she stood by his side and laughed at all the proper moments. She was happy to step to the side and allow him the spotlight in that instance—in any instance, really. Fundraisers were his stage, not hers. Now, however, the choice was ripped from her and if she wanted the Maggie Karston Community Center to succeed, she had to be the equivalent of the snake oil salesman. At least, that's what i
The music wasn't bad, but Morgan would have preferred something with more of a country twang. He sipped his bourbon, thinking the background music was going to put people to sleep before they could sign their checks. Ah well, what did he know about business tactics and fundraising. He was a contractor. He knew nails and two-by-fours, not how to persuade people out of their money. Lily Anderson walked by on her way over to Jacqui and Morgan stopped lifting his glass to his lips as he watched her pass. I'm much better at talking women out of their skirts. I'll stick to what I know best."Give it up. She bats for the other team from what I hear."Morgan looked down at a graying man in a wheelchair, his smile now a frown. "Such a waste of a skirt."The man laughed. "Better not let her hear you. She'll put you in a skirt."Morgan watched as Lily disappeared into a knot of people. He arched an eyebrow. "Might be worth it."The older gentleman laughed even harder. "Not very politically correc