03_The Unexpected Gift (15 page)

But as he said goodbye and turned away, Grant didn’t feel happy.

He just felt alone.

Morgan took one last look in the full-length mirror in her bedroom, then gave a satisfied nod. At first she’d worried that she had overdressed for the black-tie dinner, but even though her dress was long, it was understated and elegant. She should be fine.

As she reached for her small, beaded clutch purse, Morgan glanced at her watch. Grant should be here any minute, she realized, with growing excitement. She knew she was looking forward to this evening with Grant far more than was prudent. As he’d made perfectly clear when he’d issued the invitation, he regarded it as just a convenient, practical gesture. She needed to view it the same way. It was
not
a date.

She repeated that mantra until her pulse quieted. But the minute the doorbell rang, she once more lost control of her heart rate. Get a grip! she admonished herself as she made her way toward the door. Just pretend you’re going to another board meeting.

But when she pulled open the door, her casual words of greeting died on her lips. In the elegant tuxedo that emphasized his broad shoulders, Grant definitely did not look like he was on his way to a board meeting. The formal attire gave him a degree of sophistication and worldliness that took her breath away. All she could do was stare.

Grant was glad Morgan didn’t speak at once. Because he wasn’t sure he would have been able to respond. He’d always known she was an attractive woman. No matter what she wore—from designer jeans and casual sweaters to chic business attire—she always looked perfectly put together. He’d expected the same tonight.

What he hadn’t expected was to have the wind knocked out of him by this stunning vision of loveliness and glamour. Morgan wore a simple but elegant black sheath, held up with slim, beaded straps. The same beading continued across the straight bodice, which was cut low enough to suggest, but high enough to be modest, and a simple strand of pearls lay against her silky skin. The beauty of the dress was that it hinted at, rather than revealed, her slender curves. Which, as far as Grant was concerned, made the gown far more alluring than those that were so bare they left little to the imagination.

“Come in,” Morgan said at last, stepping aside.

A flash of beads near the floor caught his attention, and his gaze dropped to the slit up the side of the dress that revealed a long length of shapely leg.

Suddenly his collar felt too tight, and he had to restrain himself from reaching up to run a finger around it as he moved past her.

“I guess this is it,” she said, trying not to sound out of breath as she closed the door.

“It should be a great evening. Are you ready?”

“All set.”

As she reached for her wrap, he took it from her and draped it around her shoulders. Though elegant, the simple satin stole looked none too warm. “I’m not sure this is going to stand up to a Maine night, even if it is May,” he cautioned.

“I’ll be in the car or the hotel most of the time. I’ll be fine,” she assured him. Then she grinned. “We women are used to making sacrifices for glamour.” She raised the hem of her dress a few inches and wiggled her foot. “See what I mean?”

He glanced down, focusing more on her slender foot than on the flimsy, silver sandal with the narrow straps and high, skinny heel. He cleared his throat and looked back up at her. “I see your point.”

She lifted her slender shoulders and smiled. “Nothing but the best for Good Shepherd. But I’ll be paying for this tomorrow. There isn’t much call for this kind of attire in Seaside, so my feet have gotten pretty used to more comfortable shoes. And they’re already protesting.”

Grant smiled. “Good Shepherd appreciates your sacrifice. And so do I.”

Without giving her time to ponder his remark, he took her arm and guided her toward the door. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

With his hand under her elbow, Morgan picked her way across the gravel drive in front of Aunt Jo’s cottage. In her formal attire, she needed some assistance getting up to the running board, and his hands were strong and sure on her waist as he boosted her up.

“Thanks.” Her voice was a bit unsteady as she swung her legs inside.

“My pleasure,” he said, the look in his eyes making her breath catch in her throat.

The ride to Portland passed quickly. Too quickly for Morgan. Grant kept their banter light, but there was no denying the connection between them. It made her nerve endings tingle in a delicious way, unlike anything she’d ever experienced with another man. She suspected Grant was as conscious of it as she was, but unlike her, he seemed to have a firm grip on his emotions. From the minute he’d appeared at her door tonight, she’d forgotten all of the many reasons why she shouldn’t even consider a relationship with this man. At least one of them was being sensible.

Once they arrived at the benefit, Grant was kept busy. As the chairman, he was expected to greet all of the important guests during the cocktail hour. That was fine with Morgan; she needed some time apart from him to try and regain some perspective. Nevertheless, she found her gaze wandering to him again and again as she nibbled on hors d’oeuvres, sipped sparkling water and chatted with Kit and Bill.

“Isn’t this place something?” Kit said, her eyes flashing with excitement as she snagged a crab rangoon from the tray of a passing waiter, then peeked into the adjacent hotel ballroom.

Morgan looked over her shoulder, admiring the lovely setting. The tables were draped with crisp, white linen, and the mauve chair covers were held in place by gauzy silver bows on the back. Enormous crystal chandeliers hung overhead, but they’d been dimmed to allow the long tapers in the dramatic floral centerpieces on each table to add a warm glow to the room. A string quartet played in the anteroom, where the drinks were being served, adding to the elegant ambiance.

“I bet you’ve been to a lot of events like this,” Kit said, turning to Morgan.

“A few. But this one is special.”

“True. And it wouldn’t have happened without you.”

Morgan made a dismissive gesture. “A lot of people worked hard to make this evening a success.”

“Well, I know Grant is pleased. Where is he, by the way?”

“You’ve got me. He was pulled away seconds after we stepped in the door. I haven’t seen him since,” Morgan told her.

Kit made a face. “I wish he could just relax and enjoy the evening. But at least you two will be having dinner at the same table, right?”

“That’s the plan.”

“Good.” At the sound of a gong, Kit took Bill’s arm.

“Time to eat.”

“You haven’t stopped eating since you arrived,” he teased her.

She gave him a playful punch in the arm. “Hey, I don’t get to go to many of these fancy doings. Cut me some slack. Besides, I noticed you had your share of shrimp cocktails.”

“Guilty as charged,” he admitted with a chuckle.

“We’ll see you later, Morgan,” Kit promised as they headed off to find their table.

“Okay. Have fun,” she called after them. As Morgan dug in her purse to find the card with her table number on it, she felt a hand in the small of her back and looked up to find Grant smiling down at her.

“Sorry I got waylaid.”

Her heart tripped into double time and she had to use every ounce of her willpower to keep herself from leaning back into his hand. “No problem. Kit and Bill kept me company. And we sampled all the hors d’oeuvres.”

“Were they good?”

She looked at him in surprise. “Didn’t you try any?”

“I didn’t have a chance,” he said with regret. “But I plan to make up for it at dinner.”

With a gentle pressure on her back, he guided her into the dining room and toward their table.

But again, they had little time to themselves. The woman seated on Grant’s right—a major donor to the camp—kept him occupied during most of the dinner, leaving Morgan to make conversation with an elderly gentleman on her left. After dinner, the big-name entertainment drew everyone’s attention, and then the master of ceremonies took over.

As the winners of the silent auction were announced, Morgan leaned back in her chair and eased her feet out of her shoes. Her toes might be protesting, but as she surveyed the packed ballroom, a warm glow of satisfaction spread through her. The dinner had been a resounding success. Every table had been sold, guests had made generous bids in the silent auction and contributions had poured in. The camp was in its best financial position ever, and Morgan’s suggested advisory board of prominent people was in place to spearhead future fund-raising efforts. Aunt Jo would be pleased, Morgan thought with a smile.

“A penny for your thoughts.”

She turned to Grant, her smile still in place. “I don’t think we’re in the penny league tonight.”

“True,” he agreed. “I saw some of the bids for that trip to Cancun. They were way out of
my
league, that’s for sure. So what do I have to offer to find out what prompted that smile?”

“No charge. I was just thinking how happy Aunt Jo would be with the way things turned out for Good Shepherd.”

“She’d be thrilled,” he concurred.

“I wish she could see this.”

“I like to think she’s here in spirit. And I expect she’s very proud of you. You did a fabulous job, and I…”

“Grant! I’ve been trying to make my way over here all evening. How are you?”

Startled, Grant glanced up, then rose. “What are you doing here?”

The woman laughed. “Is that any way to greet your mother? Don’t I get a hug or anything?”

With obvious reluctance, Grant leaned forward, gave the woman a brief embrace, then backed off. “So why
are
you here?” he repeated.

“Alan Davidson, our president, is an alumni of Good Shepherd. Can you believe it? Anyway, he bought a table. I was supposed to be out of the country, but the trip fell through at the last minute and they still had a seat available. So here I am. It’s a wonderful event.”

“Thanks to Morgan.” Grant reached for her hand and drew Morgan to her feet. “Mom, I’d like you to meet Morgan Williams. She’s serving as an advisory member of the Good Shepherd board and developed this event. Morgan, this is my mother, Ellen Kincaid.”

Morgan held out her hand, and the other woman took it in a firm clasp. Up close, she looked older than Morgan remembered from the funeral, but she’d only seen her from a distance on that occasion. Nevertheless, Grant’s mother had style. Her clingy claret-colored gown showed off her excellent figure, and Morgan’s practiced eye recognized the touch of a well-known designer in the cut.

“My pleasure,” Ellen said with a smile. “And congratulations on a stellar event.”

“A lot of people contributed to the effort,” Morgan replied.

“Yes, I recognized quite a few of the names on the advisory board in the program. And the guests are a veritable who’s who of movers and shakers in Boston. I ran into a number of our clients tonight, and even managed to get an appointment with someone we’ve been trying to do business with for years.”

“It sounds as though it’s been a profitable evening for you,” Grant said dryly.

“It has. I’m so glad I came!” his mother gushed, oblivious to the irony in his tone. “Oh, look! Is that John Patton over there? I’m sure it is. I need to say hello. He’s one of our major clients.”

“Kit’s here somewhere, too,” Grant told her.

“Oh? I’ll have to try and find her.” His mother’s tone was vague as she attempted to keep the man she’d spotted in sight. At last, with obvious effort, she pulled her attention back to the two people standing before her. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Morgan.”

“Likewise.”

“Take care, Grant.”

“You, too.”

They watched her close in on her quarry, then Grant looked at Morgan and shook his head as they sat down again. “Typical Mom. Work is always top of mind.”

Morgan stared after the woman, but she’d disappeared into the crowd. “You know, I see myself in her,” she admitted. “And it’s not a pretty picture.”

“I don’t see you that way anymore.”

A warm glow spread through Morgan as she turned back to Grant. “I’m glad. Because I think I’ve seen the light. It’s too bad your mom doesn’t.”

He played with his water glass, his eyes thoughtful. “I doubt she ever will. Mom is just…Mom. She was never happy in Maine. Dad and Kit accepted that a long time ago. But I was just angry. For a very long time.”

“I can understand that. I can’t even imagine how I’d have felt if my mom had left us to pursue a career in another city.”

“Anger doesn’t help anyone, though.” His expression was pensive as he stared into the crowd. “Dad and Kit and Uncle Pete have been telling me that for years. And you know what I just realized? The last couple of times I’ve seen Mom—tonight, and at the funeral—the anger was gone. It’s like I’ve finally accepted that this is how she is and just let the anger go. It wasn’t even a conscious decision.”

“However you arrived there, I’m sure it’s a healthier place to be.”

“Kit would no doubt agree with you,” he said with a smile. “And I have to admit it’s a freeing feeling. Like a heavy load had been lifted from my shoulders. I’m not sure why it took me so long to get here.”

“Things happen when they’re supposed to happen. Maybe you weren’t ready to let the anger go until recently.”

“Yeah. Letting go can be tough.”

From the subtle shift in his tone, she had the distinct feeling that he wasn’t talking about anger anymore.

“And now, to start off the dancing portion of the evening, I’ll call upon the chairman of the board, Grant Kincaid.”

It took a second for the voice of the emcee to register, and when it did, Grant looked startled. “I didn’t know about this,” he muttered as the room erupted into applause.

Morgan leaned closer. “Don’t you dance?”

“I haven’t been on a dance floor in years.”

On impulse, Morgan reached for his hand and urged him to his feet. “Well, I’m a bit rusty myself. But maybe we can muddle through together.” Then she leaned closer still. “I think it’s expected. Can your knee handle this?”