Page 13 of Easton Island: Old-Fashioned Christmas
David frowned. “You didn’t get one yet?”
“No.”
“I’ll take care of it right now.” He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and tapped the screen. “I’m sending a message to the producer. What’s your email address?”
Morgan rattled off both her address and Brett’s.
“If you don’t have it by tomorrow morning, let me know.”
“Thank you. We’re planning a special screening at Grandmother’s house. I have the popcorn ordered and everything,” Morgan joked.
“You have such a cool house,” Harlow said. “I would wake up every day pinching myself.”
“I’m sure you could afford dozens of these.”
“But not like this. Your house has…character. Like it fits in its skin, if that makes sense. I’ve visited houses where you look at the outside and think you know what the inside looks like, but then you walk in, and you’re like…is this even the same house?”
“As I mentioned, most of what you see at Locke Pointe is original. Hopefully, I’ll be able to pass it on to my own children someday.” Morgan followed them down the stairs and closed the secret door behind them.
They reached the main level and toured the rest of the rooms, wrapping it up where they began. “We have a carriage house, a private beach and, thanks to Greg, the guy who picked you up at the airport, meticulously manicured gardens during the summer months, when they aren’t covered by snow.”
Tina appeared in the doorway. “I’ve finished setting up for social hour, appetizers, and drinks in the dining room and parlor.”
Morgan introduced the Wynns to Tina.
“I’m famished.” Harlow patted her stomach. “But first, I need to freshen up.”
“Ditto,” David said. “We’ll be down to enjoy some delicious dishes in a minute.”
“Take your time.” Morgan followed Tina into the dining room to inspect the spread—a charcuterie grazing board, hanging pretzels with individual dipping sauces, fried chicken and waffle bites in silver paper cones, along with an assortment of chips and dips.
“How did I do?” The cook nervously licked her lips.
“It’s perfect.” Morgan plucked a chip from the bowl and reached for a dipping tin. “The guests will love it.”
“I hope so.”
“You worry too much.” She polished off her snack. “I have no doubt each dish tastes as yummy as it looks.”
“Do the…do the other guests know about Harlow and her father being here?”
“No, but they will soon enough. Something tells me this will be a very interesting social hour.”
Chapter 6
Morgan waited for her guests at the bottom of the stairs, near the entrance leading into the parlor.
The Selmans arrived first, a young couple who were celebrating their wedding anniversary. A mother and daughter from Indiana were next, having spent the previous day shopping at outlet stores on the mainland before stopping by for a quick getaway at Locke Pointe, along with another couple from Chicago.
Harlow and her father were the last to make an appearance. Morgan knew the precise second the other guests realized who she was. The room went completely silent, so quiet you could’ve heard a pin drop.
With all eyes watching, Morgan greeted them and led them to the tempting array of offerings.
“Dad and I are heading to Locke Village for dinner, so I’ll need to limit the snacking.” Harlow grabbed a plate, placing one of everything on it while Tina stood nearby anxiously watching.
The opposite of his daughter, David loaded his plate with goodies before grabbing a sparkling cider. He began chatting with the young couple. Harlow eased in alongside her father, pretending not to notice they were gawking.
After a whispered conversation, the mother and daughter slipped in next to them and soon, a lively conversation ensued as the Locke Pointe guests peppered Harlow with questions about her fascinating life.
