Read Online Second Chance Love by Shawn Inmon - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Shawn Inmon
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it’s fine.”
Upon doing the math, Elizabeth realized that tonight would buy a lot of books for inner city kids, which was a good thing. Meanwhile, back at Coleman Manor, we debate important financial management issues, like 'is it worth it to pay the extra pennies for two-ply toilet paper?'
Steve reached down and took hold of Elizabeth’s hand, giving it a little squeeze as they worked their way around the tables to their own seats. They slowed down as they passed one table of elderly ladies sporting far too much jewelry.
“Mother, I’m sure you remember Lizzie.” Elizabeth certainly recognized her, even with twenty years of character lines: strong jaw, piercing eyes and quick, birdlike gestures.
“Yes. Hello, Elizabeth.”
“Hello, Mrs. Larson. Nice to see you again.”
“Yes. You too…”
Steve kissed the air beside her cheek. “See you, Mother. We’re off to our own table.”
They soon reached the table bearing a large gilt-lettered placard: Larson Industries & Investments. Steve said, “Elizabeth, this is Jim Scott and his wife Helen. This is Elizabeth.” Jim and Helen both stood and smiled, welcoming her. Steve pulled out the chair next to Helen Scott, and Elizabeth sat down.
Less than two minutes later, a tuxedoed waiter appeared. “What would you care to drink?”
Steve said, “Glenfiddich, neat.”
“Very good, sir, and you, ma’am?”
Elizabeth thought back to the two glasses of champagne she’d had with Gail, which were two glasses more than she normally drank in most years. “Just water, please.”
“Very good, ma'am.” Jim asked Steve about his trip to Japan, and that conversation continued until the waiter returned with a small whisky glass, a bottle of Perrier, and a glass of ice. He set the latter two before Elizabeth with professional grace.
I didn't ask for Perrier. What was that waiter thinking? Of course. Tap water is for the great unwashed. Elizabeth poured some, pretending that each sip did not equal a dime.
Helen reached over and put a hand on her arm. “Well, you certainly know how to cause a stir.”
“I’m sorry?” Elizabeth said.
“As far as being the information superhighway, the Internet’s got nothing on the gossips in this room. You two weren’t even inside the building yet when the place was buzzing about the beautiful woman who showed up with Steve. I’m glad you’re here. The old bitches need something to talk about and get their blood pumping, or it starts to congeal. Plus, you’ve given Chelsea Stanton something to worry about. She’s been trying to bag Steve for ten years. Unsuccessfully, but she never gives up.”
“Oh,” Elizabeth said, “but…”
The lights dimmed and a white spotlight lit the dais, occupied by the telegenic Thom Goodson. “Good evening, friends, and welcome to the 32 nd Annual Winterland Gala,” he boomed.
Loud applause echoed through the room as the band played a few jaunty notes.
Thom held his hand up as though he couldn’t stand that much positive feedback so soon. “Man, it was cold out today, wasn’t it?”
Much of the audience shouted in unison, “How cold was it?”
Thom feigned surprise, then leaned into the microphone and delivered one of his many familiar punchlines. “It was so cold out, the aldermen had their hands in their own pockets.” Groans outnumbered laughs by a wide margin.
“But seriously, we’re here for a great cause tonight—raising money to build libraries and improve literacy programs in the inner city.” He paused for several seconds to let the applause die down again. “Around the room tonight, you’ll see tables with items up for bid in the Silent Auction. You’ll have until eleven o'clock to enter a bid on the sheet on each table. We’ve had so many wonderful items donated tonight that we’re going to split the live auction into two parts, with a quick intermission in the middle. I’ve been blessed to be the Master of Ceremonies for many years, and I’ll tell
Upon doing the math, Elizabeth realized that tonight would buy a lot of books for inner city kids, which was a good thing. Meanwhile, back at Coleman Manor, we debate important financial management issues, like 'is it worth it to pay the extra pennies for two-ply toilet paper?'
Steve reached down and took hold of Elizabeth’s hand, giving it a little squeeze as they worked their way around the tables to their own seats. They slowed down as they passed one table of elderly ladies sporting far too much jewelry.
“Mother, I’m sure you remember Lizzie.” Elizabeth certainly recognized her, even with twenty years of character lines: strong jaw, piercing eyes and quick, birdlike gestures.
“Yes. Hello, Elizabeth.”
“Hello, Mrs. Larson. Nice to see you again.”
“Yes. You too…”
Steve kissed the air beside her cheek. “See you, Mother. We’re off to our own table.”
They soon reached the table bearing a large gilt-lettered placard: Larson Industries & Investments. Steve said, “Elizabeth, this is Jim Scott and his wife Helen. This is Elizabeth.” Jim and Helen both stood and smiled, welcoming her. Steve pulled out the chair next to Helen Scott, and Elizabeth sat down.
Less than two minutes later, a tuxedoed waiter appeared. “What would you care to drink?”
Steve said, “Glenfiddich, neat.”
“Very good, sir, and you, ma’am?”
Elizabeth thought back to the two glasses of champagne she’d had with Gail, which were two glasses more than she normally drank in most years. “Just water, please.”
“Very good, ma'am.” Jim asked Steve about his trip to Japan, and that conversation continued until the waiter returned with a small whisky glass, a bottle of Perrier, and a glass of ice. He set the latter two before Elizabeth with professional grace.
I didn't ask for Perrier. What was that waiter thinking? Of course. Tap water is for the great unwashed. Elizabeth poured some, pretending that each sip did not equal a dime.
Helen reached over and put a hand on her arm. “Well, you certainly know how to cause a stir.”
“I’m sorry?” Elizabeth said.
“As far as being the information superhighway, the Internet’s got nothing on the gossips in this room. You two weren’t even inside the building yet when the place was buzzing about the beautiful woman who showed up with Steve. I’m glad you’re here. The old bitches need something to talk about and get their blood pumping, or it starts to congeal. Plus, you’ve given Chelsea Stanton something to worry about. She’s been trying to bag Steve for ten years. Unsuccessfully, but she never gives up.”
“Oh,” Elizabeth said, “but…”
The lights dimmed and a white spotlight lit the dais, occupied by the telegenic Thom Goodson. “Good evening, friends, and welcome to the 32 nd Annual Winterland Gala,” he boomed.
Loud applause echoed through the room as the band played a few jaunty notes.
Thom held his hand up as though he couldn’t stand that much positive feedback so soon. “Man, it was cold out today, wasn’t it?”
Much of the audience shouted in unison, “How cold was it?”
Thom feigned surprise, then leaned into the microphone and delivered one of his many familiar punchlines. “It was so cold out, the aldermen had their hands in their own pockets.” Groans outnumbered laughs by a wide margin.
“But seriously, we’re here for a great cause tonight—raising money to build libraries and improve literacy programs in the inner city.” He paused for several seconds to let the applause die down again. “Around the room tonight, you’ll see tables with items up for bid in the Silent Auction. You’ll have until eleven o'clock to enter a bid on the sheet on each table. We’ve had so many wonderful items donated tonight that we’re going to split the live auction into two parts, with a quick intermission in the middle. I’ve been blessed to be the Master of Ceremonies for many years, and I’ll tell
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