Chapter 7
Morgan ran a light hand along the neckline of her vintage red tuxedo gown. A wisp of her sandy brown hair had come loose from her updo. She tucked it behind the gold and silver leaf pearl comb she’d found in her grandmother’s jewelry box.
She gazed in the mirror. Her mother’s hazel eyes stared back at her.
Beautiful, Laura’s soft voice whispered in Morgan’s ear.
All afternoon she’d felt her mother’s presence so close she could almost reach out and touch her.
With every last party preparation…placing the Bohemia crystal hand-cut glasses, the Reed & Barton sterling silver flatware, and Spode Christmas tree place settings on the sideboard table, she felt her mother by her side.
Every detail had been carefully executed, including selecting the serving dishes, an homage to both the Locke and Easton sides of the family, which was no small feat. Her Locke side being American Michiganders while the Easton side was Canadian.
Which meant dinner was an eclectic mix of both, but she was thrilled with the results and couldn’t wait for her special guests to arrive.
Quinn glided into the office, her sequined forest green velvet dress, off the shoulder and with a deep scoop in the back, glimmering under the recessed lights. “What do you think?”
Morgan let out a flirty whistle. “Ooh la la. Wait until Brett sees you.”
“I wasn’t sure about the color, but now that I have it on, I’m in love.” Quinn twirled in a slow circle. “I feel like a princess.”
“You look like one,” Morgan said. “We both do.”
“Ronni is going to have Jax drooling over her gown.”
“I’m dying to see it.”
“It’s stunning. Those are the only words I can use to describe it.”
Ronni swept into the room. “I thought I would find you two in here.”
“Wow.” Morgan’s eyes flitted from the top of Ronni’s head to the tips of her satin high heels. “Your dress is gorgeous.”
“You don’t think it’s too…snug.” Ronni absentmindedly tugged on the sleeve. Also, a shade of red, but a more vivid version than Morgan’s, it fit her like a glove. “I feel like I’m interviewing for a brothel position.”
Quinn burst out laughing. “Not even close. It’s sexy yet not over the top.”
“Are you sure?”
Morgan gave her a double thumbs up. “The gown was made for you.”
“Thanks.” Ronni tapped the top of her diamond bracelet watch. “The guests should start arriving at any moment.”
“Let’s do this.” Morgan, with shoulders back and head held high, waltzed down the long hall and to the entrance. From the doorway, she could see a steady stream of headlights driving past and turning into Locke Pointe’s parking lot.
Elizabeth, with Gerard by her side, was the first to arrive.
The Easton family matriarch was dressed to the nines, from the top of her gem-encrusted sparkling tiara to the tips of her La Canadienne leather pumps.
Regal and poised, she kissed Morgan’s cheek.
“You look stunning,” she whispered in her ear.
“I was thinking the same thing about you.” Morgan’s eyes filled with love. Not only was this night about being a part of the Locke Village community, but it was a nod to her grandmother—and brother—the two people who had been by her side through some very tough times.
Wyatt arrived moments later, looking dapper in his suit and tie. Brett was right behind him, appearing equally dashing and wearing a tie that matched Quinn’s forest green dress. “You two are color-coordinated,” Morgan teased.
“We tried.” Her brother placed a light kiss on her cheek before taking Quinn’s arm. “And you look like you stepped out of a Vogue fashion magazine. All of you.”
“Thank you,” Ronni primly replied. “It was fun getting dressed up.”
“You’re looking hot yourself,” Quinn flirted, batting her eyes at her beau.
“We Eastons clean up pretty good,” Brett joked.
“It’s our excellent genes.” Morgan added another comment, directed at her brother.
He stared at her, a blank expression on his face. “Huh?”
“You missed my joke.” Morgan had noticed her brother seeming distracted, almost to the point where she wondered if he was okay.
Quinn shot her a puzzled look. It appeared she had noticed as well.
Morgan stopped short of asking him if he was feeling all right, thinking she should wait until they were alone to question him.
Ben Baker and Greg appeared, followed by Mrs. Arnsby, all dolled up in her holiday finest.
Chester, who had been patiently standing in the corner, bounded over. His antlers bounced off Morgan’s leg and slid forward. He shot her an annoyed look.
“I’m starting to think that a bowtie would have been a better choice.” Morgan promptly removed the pesky antlers, and her pup licked her hand to show his appreciation.
Guest after guest arrived, including her friend, Elin Jensen, the owner of Danish Delight Bakery, Ariel Vanmeter, who owned Bean Brewing, Locke Village’s coffee shop.
Denver Coates, who managed Easton Island airport, the mayor, the township treasurer, almost every business owner from the village and even a few from Easton Harbor greeted their hostess, thanking her for inviting them.
Jax, the last to arrive, hurried to Morgan’s side.
“I was beginning to think you weren’t going to make it.”
“The parking lot is full. It took me a while to find a spot.” His eyes scanned the room, and she knew the exact second Jax spotted Ronni…when his jaw dropped.
Morgan tucked her arms behind her back, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “Ronni looks gorgeous, doesn’t she?” she said in a low voice.
“I-I’ve never seen her dressed so…” Jax stammered.
“Hot?” she teased.
He tugged at his tie. “She’ll turn every head in here.”
“Easily, which is why you should get over there and protect her from potential admirers.”
“Yes.” Jax turned to go and abruptly stopped. “I’m sorry, Morgan. You are as pretty as your mom. You look so much like her.”
“I was doing some last-minute primping in the mirror, and it was almost as if Mom was staring back at me.” Morgan rubbed the sides of her arms. “Thank you for the compliment.”
He gave her a peck on the cheek. “She would be very proud of you.”
Morgan blinked back the sudden tears. “I hope so. Now, go grab your gal before some other smooth talker does.”
“You betcha.”
She gently nudged him, watching as Jax strode across the room. Ronni’s eyes followed him, a small smile playing on her lips. He said something, and she leaned in, laughing at whatever it was.
“Thank you for inviting me.”
Morgan spun around and found Priscilla Finkpin, her grandmother’s former nemesis and sister-in-law, standing behind her.
“You’re welcome. You are a part of the business community, seeing how you’re the managing editor of the Easton Harbor Beacon.”
“It’s a who’s who of Easton Island.” She gave Morgan the once over. “I’m sure you’ve heard this a dozen times already, but if I didn’t know better, I would think Laura Locke Easton was standing in front of me. You’re the mirror image of your mother.”
“Thank you. I…miss her.” It seemed like such an inadequate statement, the depth of Morgan’s loss washing over her. She looked away, struggling to maintain her composure.
Priscilla touched her arm. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you sad.”
“It’s okay. I’ve felt her presence all day…only a breath away.”
Elizabeth appeared. “What’s with the glum face? Is Prissy making you sad?”
“Oh, stop.” Priscilla rolled her eyes. “I told her she looked like Laura.”
“Priscilla was paying me a compliment.”
“I was being honest,” she sniffled. “I’ve been working hard to turn over a new leaf, being nice and all.”
“Then I owe you an apology, Prissy,” Elizabeth said. “Gerard has made his rounds. He said the food looks fabulous and is impatiently waiting for me to join him to grab a bite to eat.”
Priscilla and her grandmother left to track Gerard down. Meanwhile, Morgan mixed and mingled, chatting with guests and directing them toward the dining room.
Finding a moment to herself, Morgan slipped away to check in with Tina. She nearly collided with Wyatt in the hallway.
“There you are.” He pulled her into his arms and sneaked a kiss. “The party is going great. Locke Pointe looks very festive in its Christmas décor. You knocked this big-biz open house out of the park.”
“Thanks. So far, everyone seems to be having a good time.”
“Have you eaten?”
“Not yet.”
He reached for her hand. “I’m starving.”
“Me too.”
Circling around to the dining room, the couple found only a few guests lingering, plates in hand. While the table offered an array of main dishes, the side buffets held the scrumptious appetizers and decadent desserts.
“How cool is this?”
“What?” she asked.
“You put a flag by each dish, letting guests know where it originated from.”
“Mrs. Arnsby gave me the idea. You know how much she’s into authentic dishes and the history behind them,” Morgan said. “I found the flags on Pinterest.”
Working her way around the room, she pointed out the various platters, tourtiere savory meat pie, pouding ch?meur, maple pudding, Halifax donair, similar to a kebob, served as a Canadian appetizer, aebleskivers from Elin’s bakery, bite-size Yooper pasties, along with roasted turkey, fried macaroni and cheese balls, and even a few nods to her Floridian upbringing, Key West pink shrimp Morgan had flown in for the party, along with key lime pie.
“Everything looks delicious.” Wyatt filled his plate, sampling one of everything. “I’m not sure I’ll have room for dessert.”
“You had better save at least a smidgen of room for the authentic key lime pie I had shipped from Key West. I’m an expert,” she boasted. “Trust me, this is the best pie you’ll ever taste.”
Finding a quiet corner in the butler’s pantry, the couple sampled the dishes, all perfectly prepared and seasoned under Morgan’s watchful eye. “Have you heard anything else about the storm?” She told Wyatt what David Wynn had said.
“It’s growing bigger by the day. This one is shaping up to be one for the record books.”
Morgan grimaced. “I hope it fizzles out.”
“I hope so too, but it seems the reports are all in agreement. We’re going to get slammed.”
A guest arrived to inquire about the restroom, and Morgan led them to the lower-level hall bathroom. The musician she’d hired played a popular Christmas tune, and couples hit the makeshift dance floor she’d set up.
Meanwhile, the staff worked seamlessly, clearing dishes and refilling drink glasses. A quick check found that the dining room was being cleared while Tina had the kitchen under control.
She returned to the party and found Wyatt waiting by the door. “May I have this dance?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
He swept her into his arms, holding her close as a slow song played. “I love you, Morgan. I’m sorry I won’t be here for Christmas Eve.”
She placed a finger against his lips. “It’s okay. You need to spend time with your parents.”
“Did you see Ronni and Jax?” Wyatt cast a sly glance over his shoulder.
Morgan followed his gaze. “They’re so cute. Ever since Ronni caught the bouquet, it seems she and Jax have finally given up on their long-standing feud.”
“Maybe they’re realizing what we’ve known all along…that they’re perfect for each other.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if Jax proposed,” she joked.
“Me neither.”
The song ended, and Morgan reluctantly pulled away. The tempo picked up, and a new wave of dancers hit the floor. Time flew by, and before she knew it, guests started gathering up their belongings and making their way over to the door.
Eleven o’clock rolled around, and Locke Pointe had cleared out. Only Quinn, Ronni, Tina and Wyatt remained.
“This was the best party ever.” Ronni let out a low groan, easing into an empty chair. “At the risk of tooting our own horn, we outdid ourselves.”
“We did.” Morgan plopped down next to Wyatt.
“Morgan showed me the pictures you took of Harlow and David Wynn to use for Locke Pointe promotions.”
“We can use all the help we can get during the long winter months,” Ronni said.
“Speaking of long winter months, the Easton Holdings offices will be closed for the holidays,” Quinn said. “Brett and I are thinking about sneaking off to spend a couple of days in the city before my parents get here.”
“Good for you,” Morgan said. “Brett hasn’t taken a vacation in a while now. He deserves a break.”
“I agree.” Quinn stifled a yawn. “I’m beat. I should head home. Esther is probably wondering what happened to me, plus I’m working an early shift tomorrow at the gallery.”
Morgan followed her friend to the door. “David Wynn sent Brett and me a copy of the Wynn Harbor Inn documentary. We’ll be watching it tomorrow night at Easton Estate.”
“I’ll be there. I can’t wait to see it.”
Ronni and Tina were close behind, and after a quick check to make sure the lights were off, Wyatt followed Morgan and Chester home in his Jeep.
He waited until she was safely inside before tooting the horn and speeding off.
“I don’t know about you, Chester, but I’m ready to hit the hay.
” Morgan followed her pup into the kitchen.
She filled his food and water dishes before traipsing to her room to get ready for bed.
It had been a long day, but a good day, a great party, and she knew if her grandparents were still alive, she would have made them proud.
She swapped out her dress clothes for pajamas and padded back into the bedroom. Chester had already settled into his favorite spot, and as soon as her head hit the pillow, Morgan was out.
Her last thought as she drifted off to sleep was to wonder about her brother. He’d seemed distant…distracted. Concerned about his health, she made a mental note to track him down the following day to make sure everything was all right.