I set the stack of contracts down on the big, oaken desk, right next to my father's bare feet.

"Thank God," he sighed as he leaned forward, taking his feet off the desk. "What would I do without you here?"

I rolled my eyes. "You've done fine without me here for thirty years now, Dad," I reminded him.

My father grinned, the corners of his eyes crinkling. His face was deeply tanned from his trip to...where I don't even know. I was too busy running his office while he was gone. "You're right," he said, in that slow, deliberate tone of his that I always made me worry.

"You're up to something," I said warily.

"I'm always up to something."

"True," I relented. "But this time I feel like it has to do with me."

My Dad leaned back again. "I was just thinking about how great it was to be on vacation and know that this place was running fine in my absence. You know C? It's been thirty years and I've never had that kind of peace of mind. That's a long time."

"It is," I agreed, wondering where he was going with this.

He laced his fingers on the top of his shining silver head and then faked a huge, molar-baring yawn. "I'm old and tired, C."

"Bullshit, Dad. You've got more energy than guys half your age. You've got more energy than me!"

"That's because I've been running around like crazy running this place for so long, I don't know how else to be. But when I was on vacation with your mom...in her bikini..."

"Dad," I warned, wrinkling my nose.

He laughed. "I'm just saying I'm tired of working so hard for this place." His eyes gleamed. "I think it's time I give it to somebody I knew is an even harder worker than I am."

"Dad..."

"My daughter," he finished, standing up and gesturing to his chair.

I gaped at him and he laughed loudly. "You look just like you did when you came downstairs that one Christmas and caught Santa leaving your presents."

"You never told me who that was," I reminded him. "I know it wasn't you because you were busy recording it."

"It was Santa," he protested.

"Dad."

"What? He's real. I'd know, don't you think? I took the company jet to the North Pole last December!"

"Dad. Focus."

"What?"

"Did I really just hear you offer me Silvergate?" I asked, hardly daring to form the question.

He gestured to me. "Come sit."

Dumbfounded, I walked around the side of the massive desk. From the other side, I had a view of the whole office, all the gold and platinum records that lined the walls and beyond that a sprawling view of Central Park and Lower Manhattan behind it. I placed my palms flat on the smooth, oaken surface and let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.

"Hey, here." My Dad pulled the chair out. "Try putting your feet up, it's more comfortable that way. No, take your shoes off first. There," he said once I was reclining. "Isn't that nice?"

I breathed out again, expecting it to feel weird but I didn't. It felt, right. It felt like what I'd been aiming for all along in my own circuitous way. "It is."

My father patted my shoulders. "Sit here a while and think it over," he said, leaning down to kiss the top of my head. "I know you don't like feeling like your Daddy is handing you things, but I'm not handing. I'm asking." He tugged my hair fondly and grinned. "I hope you'll say yes."

He padded, barefoot of course, over to the side door and closed it softly behind him, leaving me alone with the view of my future. It was here for the taking. I just had to be ready for it.

I was fucking ready.

My name had gotten me here, but so had my hard work. He hadn't asked Adelaide. He'd asked me.

"You look comfy, lass," said a familiar, and much-loved voice.

I looked up to see Ewan closing the main door behind him. "How'd you get up here?" I teased. "They usually stop the riffraff at the front entrance."

"What can I say?" he mused, striding over to kiss me. "I know the right people."

I stretched back in my chair, reaching for him. His mouth molded perfectly to mine, a long, languid kiss like we had all the time in the world. These past whirlwind weeks hadn't changed that. The band was prepping to head into the studio and we both knew we wouldn't see each other much once they were there. So it was important to savor it now.

When he finally pulled back, I licked my lips, relishing the taste of him. "What brings you here?"

"Well?" He looked around, looking suddenly nervous. "I'd thought I'd be finding your Dad here, but it looks like I found you here instead."

"Lucky you," I teased.

"Oh, aye," he said, shifting from one foot to the other. I put my feet back down on the floor and swiveled the chair around to look at him head on. "You look right behind here," he noted.

I grinned and tapped the vast surface of the desk. "I'm thinking of getting a nameplate made up. Celia Silver, CEO. That sounds good, doesn't it?"

He cocked his head to the side. "What about Celia Boyd? That has a nice ring to it."

I sat up straighter and he grinned. "Aye," he said with a nod. "And speaking of nice rings...." He dropped to one knee.

I clapped my hands over my mouth as he opened the blue velvet box. "Celia Silver," he asked in that perfect, lilting brogue. "Will you marry me?"

I bit my lip as I reached for the ring. I was sitting here at the desk, poised at the beginning of my future, and there was no way in hell that future wasn't going to have Ewan in it. I took a deep breath and nodded as he slid it onto my finger. It fit perfectly, sparkling in the sun that poured in through the windows of my corner office.

"You haven't answered me yet, love," Ewan prompted. "What do you say, C?"

"What do I say?" I grabbed his hand and kissed the calloused tip of my rocker's fingers. "Yes, I'll marry you! Yes!" I grinned at him. "Or should I say, aye?"