Because Of The Twins.... Carole HalstonЧитать онлайн книгу.

      Chapter Two

      “Holly, isn’t this a fabulous turnout!” gloated Ann Johnson, the president of the North Shore Businesswomen Club. “Everyone who bought a raffle ticket must have showed up for the cocktail party and drawing tonight.”

      “Not quite everyone,” Holly replied. “I counted the invitation cards I collected at the door. A hundred and seventy-four, and we sold two hundred tickets.”

      “At $250 each! That’s $50,000, less expenses, for our scholarship fund.” Ann toasted Holly with her champagne glass. “Here’s to you for coming up with the idea for this year’s fund-raiser. It was sheer genius to tap into our members’ expertise and hold a raffle with multiple prizes like Decorating Consultant for a Week, Girl Friday for a Week, Nanny for a Week. Our ticket buyers loved the novelty of taking a chance on free service by an expert. And at $250, our raffle winners will be getting real bargains.”

      “The only glitch was that those who bought tickets from me all had their favorite prize they hoped to win.”

      “Same here. A couple of bachelors pointed out they wouldn’t have any use whatever for a nanny. But they were good sports when I explained that we weren’t selling separate tickets. It would be luck of the draw as to who won what.” Ann glanced around, searching the crowd of well-dressed people sipping drinks and munching on canapés. “One of my bachelor ticket buyers was Graham Knight. I don’t see him, and he said he wouldn’t think of missing what he called our ‘annual bash.”’

      “No, he’s not here.” Holly sipped her champagne.

      “You’ve already noticed our handsome architect’s absence.” Ann pointed out the obvious, her smile teasing. “Do I detect disappointment?”

      “If you do, I must be fond of rejection.” Holly’s tone was wry.

      “You? Rejected by a red-blooded male? That’s hard to imagine, especially as gorgeous as you look tonight. I love your emerald-green outfit. Oh, Gina’s signaling us. It’s time to hold the raffle.” The club president hurried off.

      Holly sighed glumly, touching the shimmering green silk of her dinner suit before she followed in Ann’s wake. The dinner suit was new. She’d bought it especially to wear tonight. Darn it, she’d wanted to look her most “gorgeous” because she expected Graham Knight to be at the fund-raiser party.

      A week ago she’d encountered him in the supermarket, of all places, and they’d chatted briefly. The chemistry had sizzled between them, as usual. Holly had bitten her tongue to keep from asking, “Are you busy tonight?” A modern woman, she rejected the old rules that required a guy to ask a woman out and never vice versa. That was nonsense, in her opinion. But Graham had already refused her once before during the past year, when they were working together on a job for a builder. Graham had been the architect and Holly the interior decorator.

      So she hadn’t tried to make a date with him in the supermarket. Neither had he tried to make a date with her. But in parting he had referred casually to seeing her at the fund-raiser party. Darn it, Holly was disappointed he hadn’t come.

      Which meant she actually must be fond of rejection. Except that all her instincts as a woman told her Graham Knight was every bit as attracted to her as she was to him. What was his hang-up where she was concerned?

      The next time I get the chance, I’m going to ask him, Holly promised herself.

      The North Shore Businesswomen Club had booked a banquet room at a local hotel for tonight’s party and raffle. A station for the drawing had been set up in advance on a dais at one end of the room. On a draped table sat an elegant flower arrangement, compliments of a florist member, but the focal point of attention as the guests gathered around the dais were two crystal bowls flanking the centerpiece, one containing five small envelopes and the other containing two hundred envelopes of a comparable size.

      After a speech, Ann proceeded with the raffle by first introducing the five club members who were either donating their services or that of an employee as prizes. Holly was among them. She would be donating her own skills for the Decorating Consultant for a Week prize.

      Next, Ann called for a volunteer to step up and draw two envelopes, one from either bowl. A jovial bald-headed man responded. He first read out the name of the winner, a woman who was present. After the excitement had died down, he revealed her prize in his booming voice, “Nanny for a Week!”

      The raffle proceeded with three more volunteers assisting. In order, lucky ticket buyers won Fashion Consultant for a Week, Personal Fitness Trainer for a Week and Girl Friday for a Week. Finally, only one prize envelope remained to be awarded to the winner of Decorating Consultant for a Week.

      Holly smiled at her own reaction. Her nerves had tightened with the suspense. Who would win her?

      The last volunteer, a matron in pearls who happened to be one of Holly’s wealthier clients, stepped up beside Ann. Holly had sold Gwendolyn Myers her fund-raiser ticket. Gwendolyn dipped a manicured hand into the bowl still filled with envelopes, fished around at length to prolong the drama and eventually plucked out one. Careful of her nails, she opened the envelope and showed the card inside it to Ann, who blinked and cast Holly a surprised look that said, You won’t believe this.

      “Shall I read the name?” asked Gwendolyn, getting into her role as though she were an emcee on an awards program.

      “Please do,” said Ann, whose expression was amused.

      Somebody, read the blasted name, thought Holly, her curiosity thoroughly aroused.

      Gwendolyn cleared her throat and intoned, “The final lucky winner of the evening is…Graham Knight.”

      Holly’s mouth fell open.

      “Is he present tonight?” Gwendolyn was inquiring.

      “No, I don’t believe Graham was able to come,” Ann spoke up smoothly. She moved things along and concluded the raffle with another speech while Holly was adjusting to this unexpected development.

      “Holly, will you notify Graham Knight? Or would you like for me to?”

      “I’ll do it,” Holly replied without hesitation. She and Ann were on their way to their cars and had paused in the parking lot. “I won’t mind having a legitimate excuse to pay him a visit at his office. You probably guessed that from our earlier conversation when his name came up.”

      “True,” Ann admitted laughingly. “What a coincidence for him to win you!”

      “How well do you know Graham, if you don’t mind my asking?”

      “Fairly well. Our connection, of course, is Bob.” Bob was Ann’s husband, a prominent builder on the North Shore. “We’ve had Graham over to dinner at our house quite a few times over the past five years. Bob considers him an excellent architect and is always glad to land a project designed by Graham.”

      “When he came to dinner, did he bring a date?” Holly was blatantly fishing for information.

      “On a couple of occasions he brought a very striking woman he was obviously quite infatuated with. As a matter of fact, she had coloring very similar to yours. Golden-blond hair and blue eyes. And I believe she was an interior decorator, too. Her name has slipped my mind. We’re talking at least four years ago.”

      “Hmm, I wonder