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CHAPTER SIX
MORGAN glanced at his watch. That must be a record. It'd taken five frantic weeks to put the wedding together and only twenty-three minutes to empty the congested church, call the St. Regis, and cancel the reception.
Thank God everyone had gone, and having given the priest a generous contribution to the church, Morgan headed to his waiting limousine, unfastening his snug bow tie as he walked.
Who said lightning didn't strike twice? Twice he'd been engaged, twice he'd planned a wedding and both times the bride bolted.
What the hell was wrong with him?
He'd proposed to Charlotte out of love, and proposed to Winnie out of need, but both brides had turned around and run.
So much for Sexiest Man in New York.
Swearing, Morgan slid off his coat. All he wanted now was a cold drink, a change of clothes, and his plane. He was getting out of this miserable city for the rest of the summer and figure out just what had gone wrong with his life from the very private, very pristine island he owned in the Bahamas.
But on reaching his limousine he discovered Winnie's parents waiting for him. Mrs. Graham was crying. Mr. Graham looked stoic. And Morgan really didn't want to talk to either of them.
"Do you have a minute, Morgan?" Mr. Graham asked, still dressed in his black tux, sweat beading his brow. It was damn hot, unbearably hot with not a hint of breeze anywhere.
Morgan paused. He didn't feel like talking. He had no desire to make any conversation but he couldn't very well brush off Winnie's parents. He might be furious with Winnie but he didn't hate her.
"Of course," Morgan answered, wondering for the first time if perhaps the prenuptial agreement he'd presented to her had been too terse. It'd been business to him but really, had he been fair with her? Could he have been more generous financially?
Mr. Graham cleared his throat. "We're not happy at all about what happened today. Winnie's mother and I want you to know-"
"She was wrong," Winnie's mother interrupted tearfully. "There's no excuse. I don't know what came over her. She's always been a little high-strung, but really to run off like that..." Mrs. Graham shook her head, peach-lipstick lips quivering. "It makes no sense at all, especially as she's so crazy about you."
At least Winnie had done something right, he thought grimly, trying to keep his expression pleasant as he ground his teeth together. She'd convinced her parents she was marrying for love, something that all parents wanted to believe. Including his.
"I guess she had second thoughts," he said, jaw aching with the effort it took to maintain a smile.
"For whatever it's worth, she does love you. She's absolutely head over heels in love with you. And if you don't believe me, ask her yourself-"
"Margie," Mr. Graham remonstrated, placing a hand on his wife's arm. "Don't do that to Winnie."
"But it's true," Mrs. Graham vigorously defended.
"Winnie can't lie. Her face gives her away. She gets a tic, on the left side. We use to catch her all the time when she was small"
A tic? On the left side? Morgan rolled his eyes as he stepped from the elevator in his building to his third floor apartment. Give me a break, he thought, opening his door and stepping in. He didn't need that kind of nonsense today.
Mr. Foley appeared from the cool air-conditioned recesses of Morgan's apartment.
"Would you care for a drink, sir?" he asked, taking Morgan's tuxedo jacket and cast-off tie.
"A cola on ice would be great."
"I'm sorry about today, sir-"
"I don't want to talk about it."
"Of course." Mr. Foley inclined his head but he didn't budge.
Morgan suppressed a sigh. "Yes, Mr. Foley?"
"Is she all right, sir?"
Morgan wished he could pretend he didn't know what Mr. Foley was talking about. He wished he were already in his plane on his way to St. Jermaine's, his tiny island with the most beautiful white sand anywhere in the world. But he wasn't on his plane, and he'd just come from the cathedral and he couldn't forget that Winnie had a tic when she lied and that somehow her mother earnestly believed that Winnie loved him.
Winnie, his dutiful talented assistant, loved him.
What were the words Marge Graham had used? Head over heels.
"I'm sure she's all right," Morgan answered wearily, feeling the first pang of guilt. But he didn't want to feel guilty, there was no reason to feel guilty, it wasn't as if he was taking advantage of her. She was being compensated. Cash, savings account, new penthouse, credit cards in her name ...
And she'd left it all, and him. She'd run off, jumping into a yellow taxicab, her white skirts filling up the car's back seat.
Morgan had chased after her to the steps of the cathedral, had watched the taxi pull away from the curb into the stream of traffic. He'd gotten a glimpse of Winnie from the back window, saw a sheen of white, and pale skin. Saw her hand reach up and press tiara and veil to the top of her head.
Did she love him?
He told himself it didn't matter, that a contract was a contract, and business was business, but it did nothing to assuage his growing guilt.
If she loved him, it changed everything. He hadn't been strategic at all. Instead he'd taken advantage of a naive young woman's affection.
****
Winnie dragged her crescent-shaped tiara and starchy white veil from the top of her head, plucked the pins that twisted curls back from her face and slumped at her desk, chin in hand.
Well, the fairy tale was finally over.
The prince had kissed the frog who claimed to be a princess and it turned out the frog was really just a frog and very green and very lumpy.
Winnie had never felt like such a lumpy green frog in all her life. There was no more pretending, no more fantasies of true love. She'd taken those three little words, I need you, and turned them into something huge and elaborate-a castle in the air.
Yes, he needed her, but not the way she wanted him to need her. He just needed a smokescreen. A shield. A semi warm body to deter the press.
She'd been fine with that, too, had told herself that being needed was practically the same thing as being loved, but standing in the church, dressed up like a princess bride, she realized she might be able to delude the press, but she couldn't delude herself. She was too much of a romantic to settle for marriage without love.
Sighing at her folly, and wondering if she'd just messed up her one chance to do something really different with her life, Winnie rolled back in her chair, away from her desk, to look around the office.
This was Morgan's world. She'd loved his world. She'd really miss his world.
For a moment she couldn't move, could hardly breathe, remembering how she'd come here four years ago on a job interview.
She was fresh out of college and Grady Investments was looking to hire an entry-level position for their research department. Grady Investments was Wall Street's hottest investment firm and they only took on the best and the brightest for their research team and Winnie had been thrilled when they read her resume and requested an interview.
She spent two weeks preparing for the interview. She read every Fortune 500 press release available, tracked the hot stocks and graphed companies she believed were overvalued.
Winnie couldn't have been more prepared. Yet when she arrived for the interview she bombed. It was just like at the church today. She started thinking and criticizing herself and before she knew it she lost all her confidence.
She stood in Grady Investment’s entry, hugging her briefcase that still had the new leather smell and she watched the people come and go through the reception area, all deep in conversation or engrossed in reading, and she felt like a fish out of water.
She wasn't smart like these people. She wasn't sophisticated like these people. She wasn't successful like these people.
The longer she stood there the more nervous she became. By the time she was led to the conference room for her appointment, she was a mess. Every i
ntelligent thought had left her brain. Less than five minutes into the interview, Winnie apologized, picked up her portfolio, and ran.
It wasn't until she reached the busy street that the terror gave way to grief. Despite her degree, her university honors, and the expensive wool suit, she still couldn't do anything right.
That botched interview changed her career path.
Instead of pursuing entry-level positions in finance she accepted a clerical position with another finance company. Her future had been decided.
Just like it'd been decided today.
Morgan had given her the opportunity of a lifetime so what if he didn't love her? She could still have been part of his world and traveled and tried new things but no, she had to overanalyze and over think and ruin everything.
She'd blown it again.
"Going somewhere, Winnie?"
That voice was the voice she'd heard on the intercom for the last seven months and she responded to it even now, heart accelerating. Morgan. Slowly, Winnie turned in her chair, hands resting on her white silk skirt. "What are you doing here?"
