Read Online Regrets Only by M. J. Pullen - Free Book Online

tuxedos were emerging from cars at the valet
stand.
    All
things considered, he thought, Suzanne seemed to be holding up reasonably well
given her lack of sleep and what must be a painful injury. She flitted about in
her stunning size six black cocktail dress and sparkly cast, with her long
blonde hair wrapped in an elegant chignon, solving problems and patting
everyone on the back with her unbroken arm. She had a beauty queen’s smile, and
more important, she knew how to make every person she encountered feel as
though the smile was just for them. That concentrated charm was one of the
qualities Chad had tasked himself with learning from her before he left this
job.
    She’d
given him a strict schedule for her pain meds, so when he glanced at the clock
and saw it was nearly seven, he made his way to the registration table, where
he had stashed her cosmetic bag full of crucial supplies. He arrived to
overhear a confrontation brewing between an irate donor and a volunteer named
Iris—a sweet middle-aged woman with a soft voice and wispy brown hair pulled
back in a bun. The expansive man apparently didn’t like his seating assignment,
and was making it well known.
    Chad
made his way over to listen from a couple of feet away, to determine whether it
required intervention. Iris was nearly in tears, trying to appease the donor,
who was pressing his point forcefully and getting louder by the minute. “What
do you mean you don’t know how to help me?” the man fumed, face turning red.
    That
was his cue. But before Chad could step in, Suzanne glided up, smiling broadly.
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” she said sweetly to the frazzled volunteer, putting
her hand on the woman’s back. “Iris, it looks like we need your expertise over
at the credit card machine. I’ll take care of this. Chad, Iris will help you.”
    Chad
extended his hand to the stunned-looking woman, and guided her to the other end
of the table. He got her a cup of water and helped her sit, keeping one ear on
Suzanne as she pumped up her Southern accent for effect. “Now, what can I do to
help here?”
    The
donor, who turned out to be a small plane mogul from Savannah, was quite purple
in the face as he rounded on her. He literally spit as he demanded, “Who are you ?!?”
    Chad
cringed for her, but Suzanne seemed unfazed. She extended her hand lightly in a
way that suggested the man could either shake it or kiss it. “I’m Suzanne
Hamilton, the event coordinator. I’ll be happy to help any way I can.”
    “The
first thing you need to do is fire that woman,” he bellowed, jerking his finger
toward Iris, who let out an involuntary little squeak in response.
    Suzanne
kept her eyes smiling on the man in front of her. “Well, Mr.—?”
    “Basille.”
    “Mr.
Basille, Iris is volunteering her time to support the children’s programs here
at the museum, so even if I wanted to fire her, I couldn’t. But I do want to
make sure you’re happy with your experience tonight. What seems to be the
problem?”
    “For
the tenth time, I made it quite clear earlier this week that my date and I
wanted to be seated near Mr. Burke’s table. That was the whole reason we bought
tickets. We were assured by someone in your office that would happen, and if we
can’t sit near him, I want a refund!”
    This
last bit was so loud that several guests waiting in line for registration
looked to see what was wrong. Chad’s ears perked up, wondering whether he would
be called in to the conversation. Of course, he was the only “someone” in
Suzanne’s office and he knew for a fact he had made no such assurance to Mr.
Basille, but how should he say that if Suzanne called on him?
    Suzanne
listened intently, but from where Chad was standing, her gaze seemed to travel
from Mr. Basille’s eyes to his hands, feet, and finally, to his date. She
placed a hand on his forearm as Chad had seen her do countless times with angry
patrons. She dipped slightly at the knees so she could look