Flirting with the Forbidden. Joss Wood

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      THREE

      When she was very tired, stressed or emotional Morgan saw dots in front of her eyes and the letters on a page danced and shuffled about. However, this was the first time the room had ever moved, that faces had bopped and objects jiggled.

      Morgan closed her eyes and wondered if she had imagined the last thirty seconds. She’d thought she’d heard her mother say that she wanted her to take over the organising the Moreau Charity Ball—the most anticipated ball on the international social scene, held once every five years, displaying the full collection of gemstones and jewellery the Moreau family had acquired over many generations.

      There were only three thousand guests attending, five hundred of whom were invited by Hannah herself from among their loyal customers, long-time business associates and preferred suppliers. For the rest, whether they were royalty or the average Joe, they had to place a bid for a double ticket and the highest bids won the highly sought after tickets.

      It was outrageous how much people were prepared to pay for a double ticket. Simply inconceivable... And that was why, along with the auction, the Moreau Charity Ball raised tens of millions for the various causes they supported around the world.

      But for their money their guests expected the best entertainers, visually stunning dress sets, Michelin star quality food—the whole gilt-plated bang-shoot.

      It was rich, it was exclusive, it was the social highlight of the half-decade. And if you wanted to be part of the experience then you paid, stratospherically, for the privilege of being there.

      And Hannah wanted her to run it? Morgan felt her throat constrict. She lifted her left hand and didn’t realise that she was groping for Noah’s hand until his strong fingers encircled her palm and squeezed.

      ‘Breathe,’ he told her, his voice authoritative even though it was pitched at a volume only she could hear. ‘Again; in and out. There you go.’

      Morgan felt the room settle as oxygen reached her brain and lungs. When she thought she could speak she licked her lips and considered removing her hand from Noah’s strong grasp. But since it seemed to be her only tenuous link to reality, she left it exactly where it was.

      Morgan made herself look at her mother, who had the slightest smile on her face. ‘Is this a joke?’

      ‘Not at all,’ Hannah replied. ‘I’d like you to plan, organise and execute the ball.’

      ‘But—’

      ‘Riley will help you with the creative side—help you pick the theme, do the design. You both have an amazing streak of creativity and I know that it will look visually spectacular.’

      Morgan shook her head, wishing she could speak freely and say exactly what was on her mind. I don’t do well with reading reports, writing reports, analysing spreadsheets. You know this! I’ve worked really hard to conquer my dyslexia, but it’s still there and it becomes a lot worse when I’m stressed. This ball will stress me out to the max! I don’t want to mess this up; it’s too important for me to be in charge of.

      Hannah’s eyes softened but determination radiated from her face. ‘Honey, I know that you will be fine. I know that you also have your own commissions, your own business to run, so the full resources that are available to me are available to you too. We’ll hire you a PA for this project; she’ll type your reports and be your general gopher. James will keep an eye on the finances and you’ll liaise with Jack regarding the promotion and advertising of the ball. Noah will draw up plans to keep the jewels safe, and I’ll be on the other end of a mobile. You just have to co-ordinate, make decisions, boss people about.’

      ‘You’re good at that,’ James inserted with an easy grin.

      And in a couple of sentences her mother, without announcing to the room that she had a problem reading and writing, waved away her biggest concerns.

      Morgan reluctantly pulled her hand out from Noah’s and flushed, because she could sense those deep blue eyes on her face. What must he think of her? she wondered. That she was a candidate for an upmarket loony bin?

      ‘Why are you bowing out, Hannah?’ Riley asked, as forthright as ever.

      Hannah picked up her pen and tapped the point on the stack of papers in front of her. Morgan saw a quick, secret smile on her face and frowned. It was a good question, and one she was sure she knew the answer to... Three, two, one...

      ‘I need a break—to step away from the business for a while.’

      There it is and here we go again...Morgan thought. Now they were getting to the bottom of things. Every ten years or so her parents decided that they should try and live together again. They loved each other, but they loved each other more when they had continents between them. They refused to accept that while they adored each other they just couldn’t live together. How many times had her father moved in and out of the Stellenbosch farmhouse and, later, the Englewood mansion?

      Morgan sent James a quick eye-roll and he responded with a faint smile.

      ‘Jedd СКАЧАТЬ