Page 18 of Easton Island: Old-Fashioned Christmas
“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 chômeur, 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.
