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
She was going to kill him. She wasn't sure when or how, but sooner or later, she was going to kill Morgan Brewer. Her father had only said, "Have fun," as she was dragged from his side onto the dance floor, her mortification reddening her face and neck. She wasn't sure what kind of point Morgan was trying to make, but she would make life hell for him for embarrassing her like this.Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Vince, leaning against the bar on the opposite side of the room, a bourbon in his hand as he watched them sway back and forth to the music. His forlorn expression put a knot in her gut, his pain quite visible. Pain she knew she had caused. Yet, she had given him no indication in the past year that would have even hinted that he could waltz back into her life and attempt to sweep her off her feet. He had just assumed, and he had assumed wrong. He popped into her field of vision again as she circled around and she could see the thickness of his arms. They were strong enoug
"What?" Morgan cut into her thoughts."Excuse me?""You're smiling and I know I didn't say anything funny. So, what were you thinking?" His green eyes sparkled as he seemed to take joy in her smile. It helped put her at ease."Just thinking of the last time I danced. It's been quite a while.""Must have been a good night. Your smile seemed to say it was, anyway.""It was." She found herself squeezing his shoulder as the memory took her breath away a little. If he noticed, he didn't say anything."Tell me about it." And by the expression on his face, she believed he truly wanted to know."Excuse me," Brent stepped up and touched her on her elbow. Saved by the bell, so to speak, she thought. "Jacqui, it's time for you to give your speech."She released Morgan's hands and gave him a small smile. "Sorry. Duty calls. Thank you for the dance, though." While the memories were still painful, it was nice to think back on a good time in her life.He gave a slight bow of his head. "It was my plea
Pulling into the parking lot of the new offices of Rutherford Construction, Morgan was pleased to see that some work was actually beginning on the remodeling. Vince was already there, guiding a crew in the framing of the interior the way they had drawn it up. It was a simple plan, mainly because Morgan knew Neal would move them to a bigger location, sooner or later. Morgan would have his own office as well as Vince, leaving Kari to share the front with whoever else was hired for the phones. For now, while the remodel was underway, Kari was set up in the small trailer off to the east of the parking lot.Morgan joined Vince beside a piece of plywood sitting atop two sawhorses as a makeshift desk, blueprints sprawled across the top along with a Thermos and a mug of coffee. As he saw Morgan approach, he gestured to his Thermos. "I hope you brought your own. That girl in there can't make coffee to save her life."Morgan chuckled as he held up his own travel mug. "I'm always prepared for the
Entering the small single-wide trailer, his senses were assaulted with the aroma of burnt coffee, making his eyes water. Kari had her red hair pulled forward around her shoulders and hiding her face more than framing it, her hair also hiding the phone that was in her hand. He wouldn't have even known she was on the phone except for the spiral cord leading up to her ear from the desk. By the snippets of conversation he was able to catch, it sounded as if she was talking to Barbie, Neal's personal assistant. He left her to her phone call and searched out the offending coffeemaker. He quickly flipped it off and poured the noxious liquid down the drain. She definitely needed a lesson in coffee making. As he began to make a fresh pot of coffee, he heard Kari hang up the phone. He was glad Barbie called Kari instead of him. The new girl needed to get used to dealing with the big wigs in the company if she was going to make it as his personal assistant, which was the position for which he wa
"With just last night's checks, so far we've pulled in over two hundred thousand with monthly pledges at sixty thousand. I'd say that's a great start." Brent flipped though his notes as he sat in the leather chair opposite of Jacqui. "Since it's a non-profit, we'll do a fundraiser every year and keep the center in front of people's minds. With your name attached to it, I'm sure it'll keep the money coming in."Jacqui nodded as she watched him. Brent always grew excited talking about numbers, any numbers, really, but especially financial figures. With the preliminary results from last night, he was practically giddy. She wished she felt his enthusiasm, though. Two hundred thousand was a decent start, but they needed more. Much more. "We'll need to think about how we can get people to donate throughout the year. I'll have Miss Anderson come up with some sort of marketing campaign we can send out quarterly."He nodded. "Just don't overdo it. Too hard of a push or too much spam mail coming
Morgan flipped open his calendar, a habit he did at the end of every day just to get a glimpse of what to expect the next day. This Hump Day had been quiet, so far. He really needed to fix that, or things were going to get boring soon. When things became boring is usually when he wound up in trouble. Two interviews tomorrow afternoon were added to his schedule in Kari's handwriting for more office help. He did a double take when he noticed one of the names was a male. He gave a shake of his head. Times are changing. Then he chuckled to himself. You really are one sexist bastard, Morgan Brewer.He stared out at the afternoon sky, thoughts of Vince chasing after Jacqui bouncing around in his head for the hundredth time that day. She had made it clear that she didn't want her former business partner. Of course, that hadn't stopped Vince from giving it the old college try. Still, Morgan doubted it was just Vince Jacqui was rejecting, but rather the whole male population. She exuded a tou