Confessions of a Party Crasher

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Confessions of a Party Crasher Page 11

by Holly Jacobs


  "Please sit down and join us," Conner said. "I'll get you a plate."

  "Really, I'm fine. I'll just take Johnny and get out of your way."

  "I know what it's like to get that kind of call," Conner said softly. "I'm going to bet you didn't eat."

  "It's best not to argue," Ian told Sunny. "You might not be able to tell from his big, tough-guy exterior, but inside, my big brother is a nurturer."

  "Really?" Morgan asked. "Do tell."

  "Oh, the stories I know," Ian assured her. "Why, there was the time—"

  "Morgan," Conner said, interrupting his brother. "Why don't you come out to the kitchen with me and help me get Sunny a place setting."

  Ian laughed. "I think my brother wants to maintain his tough facade and not give you too many clues about his cookie-dough center."

  "Come on, Morgan," Conner said, practically dragging her from the dining room."

  "So, a big tough guy like you can't carry a place setting by yourself?" Morgan teased, trying to cover the fact that being this close to him was affecting her.

  "That's not why I asked you out here," he assured her, his voice low and inviting.

  Too inviting.

  She took a step closer. "It's not?"

  "No. You see, I've been wondering since you arrived what it would be like to kiss you again. And I thought if we snuck away for a minute I might find out if it's as good as I remember."

  Thinking of Ian's warning, Morgan decided they'd better set some ground rules. "Conner, I'm only here for a short while longer. I have a few interviews set up in San Diego next week and. . ." She sighed. "I just don't want any confusion. I like you. A lot. But I will be leaving."

  "My life is on the cusp of changing as well. As much as I like you, I'm leaving town as soon as Ian's settled in his new place."

  "So, we're agreed we won't let it be more than it is. Two people at a crossroads, sharing a few good times together."

  "Agreed," Conner said, taking her hand as if to shake on it, but instead, raising it to his lips and caressing it, before pulling her to him. "I haven't been able to think of anything but kissing you again since I left your place Saturday night."

  With that pronouncement, he did just what he'd said he'd been thinking about. Those first two kisses had been wonderful, but this was more.

  This was carnal.

  It was more than just a kiss, it was a prelude of what they could have together.

  "Wow," Morgan breathed. "Could I convince you to do it again?" she asked, feeling bold. Feeling sure of herself.

  "Yes, but first I think we'd better get that place setting out to your friend."

  DINNER WITH CONNER WAS AS casual as the previous evening's meal with Mark had been formal. Morgan couldn't remember when she'd laughed so much. And Sunny seemed to have just as good a time.

  After they'd all lingered over dessert, Ian offered to walk her friend out to the car. Morgan noticed that he was watching Sunny intently, as if he expected her to say she could manage by herself, but instead, she suggested, "Why don't you get the diaper bag, and I'll get the baby, oh, and the carseat from Morgan's car."

  Conner started cleaning up the remnants of the impromptu dinner party, and it seemed only natural for Morgan to offer to help. Ian popped his head into the kitchen, all smiles and said goodnight, yawning for emphasis as he walked down the hall.

  "I don't think your brother was as tired as he let on," Morgan said.

  "No. He's just smart enough to realize I want you all to myself."

  "I think he really hit it off with Sunny."

  "There were some definite sparks there," Conner said.

  "Ian was right."

  "About?"

  "Under that tough-guy facade, you're a nurturer, a marshmallow, a closet matchmaker."

  "I. . .he. . ." Conner sputtered.

  Morgan laughed. "It's sexy."

  His demeanor immediately changed from indignant to interested. "Oh? Do tell."

  "Very sexy."

  "Are you by any chance hitting on me, Miss Miller?"

  "That's Ms. Miller. And yes, Mr. Danning, I believe I am."

  He sat on the couch and crooked his finger. "Then come over here."

  She laughed as she obliged. "Do you know what I like about you, Conner?"

  "My manly good looks? My incredible talent with a camera?" He stopped. "Come on, jump in and give me your list."

  "I like that you make me laugh. I don't know that I've ever been this turned on by someone and found myself laughing. It's nice."

  "Laughing with you is nice, but I can think of something else I'd like to do with you."

  "Your brother. . .?"

  "Sleeps like a log. Plus he's at the back of the house on the first floor, and my room's at the front of the house on the second floor."

  "So it would be private."

  "Very."

  Morgan thought about Mark, about job offers and interviews, about the fact that she'd be heading back to San Diego as quickly as she could. About all the reasons she should say no to his obvious proposal. Then she thought about her reaction to him, about how her body had already told him yes. "I think I'd—"

  A sharp knock at the door interrupted her.

  "Who could that be?" Conner asked.

  Morgan followed him to the door.

  Sunny stood in the stoop, looking worried. "Morgan, your mother's been trying to get hold of you."

  "I've got my cell phone." Morgan grabbed her purse off the stand next to the door, pulled it out and flipped the lid. "Dead battery. Sorry. What's up?"

  "Your mom. . .she's being held by security at the hospital and needs you to come get her."

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  "MOTHER, I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU. .. How could you. . ."

  Annabelle had listened to Morgan sputter sentence fragments since they'd gotten into the car. She decided it was in her best interest to just wait until her daughter ran out of words.

  "I mean, at your age—"

  At your age?

  All thoughts of simply waiting out the storm evaporated.

  At your age?

  Those were fighting words.

  Annabelle didn't feel as if there was anything wrong with her age. She was in her prime. But obviously Morgan felt otherwise.

  "Stop the car, I forgot my walker back at the hospital."

  "What?" Morgan was slow on the uptake tonight.

  " 'At your age!'" Annabelle mocked. "I'll have you know I haven't signed up for Medicare just yet."

  "I never said you had, but Mom—"

  "And last time I checked, I was in complete control of my financial, spiritual and mental health."

  "Mom, I didn't mean—"

  "I don't act old. I saw a psychic once who said I have a young soul. But you, on the other hand, were born with a geriatric one."

  "Mom, we're not going to argue about whose soul is older. We're going to discuss your crashing problems like sane, rational adults."

  "I didn't crash anything. I just borrowed a coat."

  "You stole a lab coat."

  "That party dress wasn't exactly warm. I think whoever sets the air-conditioning unit at the hospital suffers from hot flashes. They're the old ones you should be worrying about."

  "Mom, you went to the hospital for a noble reason, to be there for Sunny and her mom. But you couldn't help yourself, could you? You're addicted to crashing. When you saw the opportunity, you took it. You went trolling for a doctor. You and I both know it. You went to be with Sunny, then just. . .broke in. Mom, you crashed a hospital."

  "But I didn't crash a reception, a wake or even a country club." She'd promised not to attend those particular gatherings and she hadn't.

  "And you parked in a handicapped space at a hospital. Your car got towed. Then you were picked up by hospital security for impersonating a doctor."

  Annabelle did feel guilty for the parking situation. She'd been so anxious to get to Sunny that she'd simply taken the first open spot she'd come to. She h
adn't even noticed the sign. Annabelle Miller was many things—things her daughter didn't approve of—but she was not a habitual handicapped-parking-space thief. She'd always felt people like that were the lowest of the low.

  Morgan took a deep breath. "What's going on with you, Mom?"

  Annabelle had a long litany of excuses and explanations she could offer, but instead opted for honesty. "I'm lonely."

  That brought Morgan's lecture to an abrupt halt. Annabelle saw the wave of pity cross her daughter's face, and it cut at her. She didn't want Morgan feeling sorry for her. "I'm lonely, but I'm dealing with it in a proactive manner. I'll be fine."

  "Mom, I'm sorry. I was gone a long time, but I'm here now."

  "And it's wonderful having you home, but how long will it last? You've made it clear that you want to go back to San Diego, to the life you've built there. Then where will I be? It's not that I blame you. I'm your mother and I want you to be happy. You need to live your own life. But your father's gone, Auggie's gone and you're going again. Where does that leave me?"

  "You have friends."

  "But it's not the same as family, not the same as having someone to go to bed with, to wake up with. I'm lonely, Morgan. It's that simple. Crashing that first reception with you shook me out of my complacency."

  "I'm sorry. I've been selfish. I'll try—"

  "No, you haven't been selfish. You're living your own life, finding your own way. That's all I've ever wanted for you."

  Morgan laughed. "That's all? Then what was with all the come-home phone calls?"

  "Okay, so maybe I wish you'd find your way back here to Pittsburgh. But even if you did, if you stayed and made your life here, I'd still want you to find someone."

  "Mom, I know you think I don't understand, but I do. I think most people want a partner, someone to share their lives with. And you've been on your own a long time. I'm happy you're getting back into dating." Morgan paused. Annabelle could sense she was weighing her words. "I won't ask you not to look, but while you're at it, would you mind not impersonating any more doctors?"

  Annabelle was impressed that Morgan wasn't trying to get her to swear off party crashing altogether. Maybe there was hope for her daughter, after all. "I can promise you that much."

  "Or police officers, federal agents, judges. . . Let's just try and keep your search legal, okay?"

  "I promise." Annabelle looked across the car at Morgan. Even though it was dark, she knew her daughter's every feature, every expression. She didn't need to see her clearly to know that right now she was looking exasperated and sympathetic all at once. "Morgan, in case I haven't mentioned it, I'm glad you're here, for however long."

  "You know what, Mom? Me, too."

  They rode in silence, each of them lost in thought.

  Annabelle went from worrying about Morgan finding her way, to wondering if that was hypocritical, since she herself had yet to figure her own life out.

  Whether she should keep or sell the store, and most importantly whether she'd ever find a special someone of her own.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  E.J., home might be where the heart is, but work. . .that's where the fun is. I always loved tackling new projects at LM Co., but at the Chair and Dish there's even more to do, and I'll confess, I'm enjoying doing it. . . .

  MORGAN WAS BACK AT THE office the next morning, a little worse for wear because of her late night out. Strangely, being a bit tired didn't dim her spirits. She felt as if she was back on track. She felt invigorated, ready to tackle anything.

  She spent the day straightening out her mother's accounts, and felt she made huge inroads. After their talk, she felt as if she had Annabelle straightened out, too. Well, at least as straightened out as Annabelle could be.

  Morgan could hear Sunny at the front desk humming a happy tune. Obviously, a late night hadn't dimmed her spirits, either.

  Morgan peeked through the door that separated the back office from the front counter. "Someone's been in a good mood all day."

  Johnny, who'd come to work with Sunny since his grandmother was still recovering from her trip to the hospital and had begged off babysitting, scowled at her.

  Scowled.

  It wasn't right that he knew how to make that rather disgusted expression at under a year old.

  "And I wasn't talking to you, Johnny," Morgan muttered. Sunny laughed and Morgan felt obliged to point out, "He really doesn't like me. Did you see how he looked at me? And after he barfed on me and everything. Some gratitude."

  "You're imagining things. He likes you a lot, don't you, Johnny?" Sunny cooed, lifting the baby in her arms. He laughed for his mother, but Morgan could have sworn he shot her a smug look.

  "He loves you, my Johnny does," Sunny assured her. "He's just a bit shy with strangers."

  "He wasn't shy with Ian."

  "Well, Ian's. . .well, he's Ian." Sunny blushed.

  Morgan ignored the grim-faced baby and focused on his pink-cheeked mother. "He is, is he?"

  "What's that supposed to mean?"

  "Oh, Ian, you set my little heart pattering," Morgan exclaimed in a high falsetto.

  Sunny went from pink to beet-red in a split second. "I never said that."

  "No, but he did set your heart to pitter-pattering. I can tell. You liked him." She switched to a schoolgirl's singsong voice and added, "Sunny's got a boyfriend."

  "I don't." Sunny suddenly refocused, narrowed her eyes and said, "But you do."

  "Nonsense. I'm just working with Conner. Last night was a business dinner."

  "What about the other one, the night before? Mark? He did, after all, send you flowers this morning."

  "That was simply to woo me into convincing Mom that selling to him is a good plan."

  "Is it?"

  "His offer seems on the up-and-up, but something feels off. I just can't put my finger on what. But I'll figure it out."

  "Maybe you're attracted to him, and it's clouding your opinion of the business deal?"

  Morgan didn't think that was it. She chatted with Sunny a few more minutes, then headed into the office.

  Mark's offer was just one more thing to think about, to decide. She'd figured her visit home in Pittsburgh would be downtime, but she felt busier than ever. It was probably good that she had those interviews in San Diego next week.

  Morgan realized abruptly that she hadn't thought home in San Diego. Of course it was home. She missed it. Missed the ocean. Missed E.J.

  Missed. . . What else did she miss?

  Her job?

  Not really. It had started to feel a bit boring. Same old, same old, different day.

  But a new job, a new challenge would take care of that. And there was so much she wanted to get done before she left. She was going to bring OCDR, and her mother, kicking and screaming into the new millennium.

  Speaking of kicking and screaming, as if on cue Annabelle came into the back and eyed the boxes suspiciously. "What is all that?"

  "That is your new computer system. I have two more terminals that I'll pick up next week and install at the front desk, and one at the warehouse."

  "We don't need—"

  Morgan cut her off. "You do need. The store does need. Whether you keep OCDR as is, expand it or sell it, you need to update to stay competitive. Having a working computer system integrating all aspects of the business will make things more efficient if you keep it, or just add to the store's value if you sell."

  "Morgan."

  "Annabelle."

  Her mother shook her head. "You always were unwavering when you'd decided something. That was it. The way it was. No one could convince you otherwise. It made you an unbelievably trying child."

  "I guess it's a case of the apple not falling far from the tree, because you were an equally trying parent." Morgan smiled. "Do you have time for a lesson?"

  "I'd love to, but I can't. I have a date soon. I know I just got in, but I only wanted to drop off this new order."

  "A date with?"

  "Was t
hat the bell on the front door?" Annabelle cocked her head as if she'd heard something. "I'd better go check."

  "Annabelle?"

  "Fine. If you must know, yes, I have a date with a man I met at the golf tournament last week. He called this morning."

  "Since when do you golf, and what golf tournament?"

  "At the club. I know I said I was done with it, that the men were way too old, or married, or both. But I decided to give it one more try."

  "At least the odds are you won't be picked up by security."

  Sunny popped her head in. "Morgan, you have a visitor."

  Mark came into the office and clearly offered her his best smile. "Hi, Morgan."

  Annabelle looked from Morgan to Mark, then back again. "Well, I'll just let you two get on with business. I have a date."

  "But, Mom—" It was too late. Annabelle made a dash for the door and didn't look back.

  Hoping against hope that her mom wouldn't break any laws while on her date, Morgan turned her attention to Mark. "So, what can I do for you?"

  "I can think of any number of things, but let's start with you going out with me." On a tangent, he asked, "Did you like the flowers?"

  "They were nice. Beautiful, in fact. Thank you. And as for going out, I really want to finish hooking this computer up."

  "Everyone needs to eat." He moved closer.

  She took a step back.

  "I brought yogurt and a banana from home."

  "That's not a meal, that's a snack." He took two more steps in quick succession and was right in front of her. "Speaking of snacks, before we go—"

  "I haven't agreed to—"

  "—I'd like to suggest we try a little snack of our own." And without a by-your-leave or do-you-mind, he kissed her.

  It was a nice kiss. Maybe his technique was a bit too practiced. Nice, neat. Not too pushy, but not wimpy. Yes, it was nice.

  Those three "nices" were fairly damning. Because, truth be told, she wanted more than nice when she was kissed. She wanted. . .

  Conner Danning walked into the room just as Morgan pulled away from Mark.

  "Sunny said to come back." He looked at Mark.

  Mark looked at him.

  Morgan looked from one to another as Conner introduced himself. "Conner. Conner Danning." He thrust out his hand.

 

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