Page 1 of Valentines In The Presidential Suite

PROLOGUE

Morgan Riley stood in front of the pink, luxurious hotel on the Gulf Coast of Florida, in a charming town called Sabal. She stared at the green palm fronds rustling in the gentle breeze, the colorful tropical flowers highlighting the landscaping, the stunning carved double wooden doors that welcomed guests, and let out a sigh. The Beach House Hotel was everything she’d hoped for. Even more.

She was here because of a chance friendship with a man named Simon Weaver. Theirs was a lovely story.

As a gentle sea breeze lifted her hair and cooled her face, her mind drifted back to the first day they’d met…

CHAPTER ONE

Morgan Riley organized her weekends carefully. After working for four years at a boring job in a law office during the week, each moment she spent over the weekends was precious to her. She promised herself she could make it through this lonely time in her life if she could balance it out with her Saturday afternoons at Pages, the local bookstore in Ellenton, New York.

She headed downtown on that September day. Besides reading at the store, it was a quiet time to do a lot of thinking about the future. Up to this point, she felt as if she’d merely survived.

Her marriage had failed, for a time, she had no home, and she had been raised by cold, indifferent parents. They probably should never have had her, their only child, thirty-two years ago.

Now was the time to live a better life.

She arrived at the attractive storefront whose picture windows displayed several books. Noting the new arrivals, she couldn’t wait to open their pages. She entered the store with eagerness.

Not too many people knew about the nook in the southwest corner of the bookstore. Hidden behind shelves of books were two comfortable chairs, a standing lamp, and a small table. It was a refuge for her, a place where she could imagine a different life between the pages of whatever book she’d chosen to read that day. Not all of the books were romances, but every one of them had satisfying endings.

The bookstore owner, James Devlin, was, of course, aware of her private visits. He even encouraged them so she could give him her reviews of the books she read. It gave her time there purpose.

On this particular Saturday, Morgan carried a book and a container of coffee purchased at the bookstore café into the corner, where she stopped so suddenly that she almost dropped her drink.

A friendly face surrounded by white hair that flopped against the man’s broad forehead looked up in surprise. “Oh, hello. Am I in your chair?”

Morgan hid her disappointment. “That’s all right. I’ll sit in the other one. I’m startled to find you here, that’s all. My name is Morgan. Morgan Riley. I spend most Saturday afternoons here, hidden away reading.”

The man bobbed his head in acknowledgment. His startling blue eyes focused on her. “A kindred soul, I see. I’m Simon Weaver, and I’m new to town. I’ve always loved being surrounded by books, which is why this store was one of the first places I visited here.”

“Welcome to Ellenton. What brings you to town?” she asked as she settled in the remaining overstuffed chair.

“My wife died two years ago. I thought I could manage on my own in our house in Connecticut, but I found it was too much. My grandson talked me into moving into an assisted living facility. I think I’m going to like some aspects of it. Others, not so much.”

“Are you talking about the new Signature Senior Living Complex?” asked Morgan. “If so, everyone in town was happy to see how beautiful it turned out to be.”

“Yes, that’s it. I have a small house on the property, small enough that I couldn’t bring all my books with me.” He looked around. “But I, too, am going to enjoy this quiet spot as often as I can.” He studied her. “I hope my presence won’t disturb you.”

Morgan took a moment. “It’ll be pleasant to share this space with someone as long as you’re serious about reading while you’re here.”

Simon chuckled. “Thanks for your honesty. You’ll see that I won’t be a busy talker, though I might fall asleep from time to time. But my wife told me I wasn’t a snorer, so there’s no reason for me to start now.”

“I can tell you loved her very much,” said Morgan. “That’s so touching.”

“Yes,” said Simon, and went back to reading his book.

Morgan took a sip of her decaf mocha latte and opened her book. Soon, she found herself in another world, connected to a woman in a different time, one who’d served as a nurse in World War II.

Morgan wasn’t sure how much time had passed when Simon cleared his throat, attracting her attention.

“I’m going to go now,” he said. “Will I see you here next Saturday afternoon?”

She smiled at him and nodded. “I’ll be here for sure. It was pleasant having another reader close by. I hope it was for you, too.”

“Indeed,” he said, slowly getting to his feet. “I hope we can become friends. Having a private house at Signature Senior Living, I sometimes feel isolated, even though I’m able to share meals with others, if I choose.”

She took a moment to study him, admiring his openness and the way he cared for himself. “I understand. I, too, find myself alone a lot. ”