Page 13 of Valentines In The Presidential Suite

Morgan studied the tall, thin boy with dark hair and a smiling face and could see some of Simon in his features. “And Jake?”

“Here,” said Simon. The boy in this photo had blond hair and a sturdy body.

“He looks a bit like you, too,” exclaimed Morgan.

Simon grinned. “It’s the Weaver genes. Eleanor always said the women in the family did all the work, but the boys all looked like Weavers.”

The doorbell rang.

Simon went to answer it and stepped back as a couple of men wheeled in a food cart with covered dishes, similar to those found in an upscale hotel.

“Come in, come in,” said Simon, directing them to the dining area by the kitchen. In moments, the two servers had set the table and helped Simon and Morgan with their chairs. Then, with an orchestrated movement, the servers lifted the covers off the plates placed in front of them.

“Enjoy,” said one of the servers. “I’ll put the dessert on the kitchen counter so that it’s there whenever you want it.”

“Thank you,” said Simon, beginning to rise.

The man waved Simon back into his chair. “Oh, no, sir. We’ll show ourselves out. And when you’re ready for us to collect the plates, just call the front desk.”

“This looks delightful,” said Morgan, staring at the plate holding grilled salmon, a potato side dish, and green beans. A simple tossed salad with tomatoes and croutons sat beside the plate.

“The food here is tasty. One of the reasons I chose this facility,” said Simon. “Bon Appétit!”

Morgan’s stomach filled with pleasure as she dug into her food. As Simon had indicated, the food was delicious.

When they were through with the main course, Simon said, “I ordered apple pie for dessert. We could heat the pie in the microwave for a few seconds and then add some vanilla ice cream. Sound okay?”

“Excellent,” said Morgan. “But please let me serve it. I need to get up and move around if I’m going to have room for dessert.”

“Be my guest,” said Simon, grinning at her. “And not too much ice cream.”

Happy to have something to do, Morgan cleared the dishes and prepared the dessert. Working in this kitchen was easier than in her much smaller one.

They’d just finished their dessert when the doorbell rang.

Simon gave her a quizzical look. “I wonder who that could be?”

The door burst open, and a young man walked into the house, staring at them both.

“Grandpa?” the boy said.

Simon got to his feet. “Jake, my boy! So glad to see you. Come meet my friend, Morgan.”

Even as Jake hugged Simon, he kept his gaze on Morgan.

CHAPTER SIX

“Come in and sit down,” Simon told Jake. “We’ve already eaten our meal, but I believe we have some dessert left.”

“I don’t want to interrupt your date,” said Jake, glancing from Simon to Morgan.

Morgan gasped. “Oh, no, this isn’t a date. We’re two friends enjoying dinner after an afternoon at the bookstore.”

“Please don’t mention this to your mother,” said Simon. “You know how she can misconstrue things.”

“Okay,” said Jake.

Morgan stood. “Are you hungry? I’ll serve you some apple pie and ice cream.”