Chapter 10

For more than an hour, Barbara had been struggling not to burst into laughter every time her eyes lit on James.

He just didn’t look like her James in his cap and gown. He reminded her of some sort of cartoon character. Of course, she’d never tell him that the cap—with its tassel that kept falling into his face—looked rather comical on his head. She was way too proud of him for that, and the day was also way too important.

Her boyfriend was a Stanford graduate now, and of course he’d graduated with honors. So far, he’d spent the day beaming and complaining that the gown smelled—the first complaint coming in the morning, when she’d helped him get dressed for the ceremony.

Barbara had actually been more excited than James, who’d sat with his fellow graduates looking utterly relaxed and at ease, and climbed the steps to the stage with a nonchalant air, ready to receive his diploma. When he’d shaken the dean’s hand and held up his diploma with a grin on his face, Barbara had felt the tears well in her eyes—and she wasn’t the only one, for her mom and his both cried along with her. Between sniffles, both older women had declared how proud they were of the twenty-four-year-old, who’d breezed through his program in record time and with an awesome GPA.

Now he was standing in the shade of a tree with a few of his classmates, posing for pictures while their mothers chatted and their fathers shared a joke, laughing out loud. James’s unlucky buddy, Martin, was standing between them, and the older men weren’t ready to let him escape. He’d merely joined the fathers to be polite and say hi, but that had been more than ten minutes ago, and now he was stuck.

Barbara joined the trio and gave him a conspiratorial wink. “Well, hello there. What’s so funny?”

The two older men turned and beamed at her, but Martin couldn’t hide his relief.

“We just heard from Martin here that he’s starting his career with Baxter and Co. in Houston,” her father explained. “Archibald and I both know Georgie Baxter, so we were dropping a few hints as to how he might curry some favor with his new employer.”

Archibald Campbell snorted with laughter. “Old Georgie is fully under his wife’s thumb, and she’s basically eliminated alcohol from his life. If Martin brings a bottle of contraband scotch to the office, he’ll be a department manager in no time!”

Even though both men looked ready to roll on the grass with laughter, Barbara merely rolled her eyes, thinking about how only half a year ago, her own mother had decreed that her dad was no longer allowed to have saturated fats or sugar. The woman had also forbidden him from ever smoking his beloved cigars again. It was rather obvious who was under whose thumb.

But Barbara didn’t want to belabor the point in front of James’s dad and poo Martin, so she merely nodded at her boyfriend’s friend. “Martin, I think I saw your parents looking for you.”

He nodded with a grateful expression and politely took his leave. Once the trio was alone on the time-honored grass of the austere campus, James’s dad put an arm around Barbara’s shoulder and sighed heavily. “Miles, have I ever told you that Barbara is the daughter I never had?”

Amused and flattered, Barbara rolled her eyes. “Why, thank you, Archibald.”

“I’m absolutely serious, my dear child.” Archibald pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Who doesn’t wish for a daughter like you?”

Her own dad echoed his sigh with another deep one. “And have I ever told you, Archie, that James is the son I never had?”

Barbara made a face. “You do recall that you actually have two sons, right?” she reminded him dryly.

He grinned and raised both hands defensively. “But James is a lot more sensible than Patrick or Stuart—put together.”

That was a gross exaggeration … at least when it came to Patrick. After all, he’d graduated college as well and was currently working his ass off in their father’s company, according to their mother.

“If my son was really so smart and sensible, he wouldn’t be starting with some corporation in San Francisco,” Archibald Campbell grumbled. “He’d be entering his father’s business.”

“Oh, the boy will see reason, I’m sure,” Barbara’s dad said, a tad more generous. “He can always come and work for me, don’t you worry.”

“He’s a Campbell,” the other man protested good-naturedly. “That means he’s working in Virginia at some point—with me.”

“My dear Archie, what is a talented guy like your son to do in deplorable Virginia?” Miles Ashcroft shook his head in a jovial manner. “In New York City, with his skills and brains, he could go so much farther. Even you have to concede that.”

Archibald Campbell’s arm was still on Barbara’s shoulder. Mildly amused, she watched the two older men and listened to their banter. She didn’t mind their presumption that they might have even the slightest say in his final decision—because she knew better. She and James had decided months ago that James would accept the San Francisco offer so that they could continue living together while Barbara finished her last year at Stanford. Once she graduated and started looking for a job, they’d see where opportunities might take them.

Everything was already happening the way they both wanted it.

They’d been a couple for four years now, had been living together for three, and certainly wouldn’t consider, even for a minute, letting their fathers decide the course of their lives. At twenty-three and twenty-four, they were too old for that.

While the two men were still debating the pros and cons of James’s new job, the subject himself joined them and patted Barbara’s dad on the back. “You all doing okay here?”

“There you are, son,” Miles Ashcroft said cheerfully, returning the pat on the shoulder. “Please tell your old man you’re considering joining Ashcroft Industries as soon as you realize the Bay Area is foggy and cold.”

Barbara rolled her eyes at the overbearing tone in her father’s voice, but James laughed, thoroughly amused. “Why would I do that, Miles? Do you want to watch my dad disown me? Also, Barbara and I both like the West Coast a lot. Your own daughter is actually deeply in love with California. So deeply I wouldn’t dare suggest a move to Connecticut at this point.”

Barbara’s eyebrows shot up at that. “You can leave me out of this discussion, thank you,” she warned him, lifting her chin.

His eyes flashed with mischief, and he winked at her. And, despite the ridiculous graduation cap, he was so handsome that her stomach fluttered under his gaze. Even after four years, she couldn’t resist the dimple in his chin, and her knees still grew weak every time he looked at her with those blue eyes and that winning smile of his.

She wanted to show him some support, so she looked first at his dad and then at her own and explained, “James’s job in San Francisco is absolutely perfect. I doubt either one of you would pay him the kind of starting salary he’s getting there. Plus, it comes with all kinds of perks you couldn’t afford to add on. And on top of that …” She paused and glanced proudly at the blond man beside her who still made her stomach do backflips and somersaults. “He was already told the prospect of a promotion looks very good.”

James took a playful bow. “Thank you, darling. I think I’ll take you along for my next salary negotiation. I believe you just successfully muzzled these two.”

“I’m very proud of you,” she declared frankly. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with letting it show!”

Standing less than a yard apart, they looked into each other’s eyes. They both forgot their fathers’ presence as James heatedly replied, “Oh, sure, darling, show it all you want.”

His father cleared his throat and made a point of pulling Barbara closer to his side. “Son, how about getting us all something to drink instead of getting ready to pounce on this pretty girl?”

“The pretty girl happens to be my girlfriend, Dad,” James pointed out dryly.

“And we happen to be thirsty.”

Being the dutiful son he was, James nodded and made a face but turned and went to fetch a round of drinks for them.

Archibald let out an exaggerated sigh and shook his head. “What did his mother and I do wrong?”

Barbara watched James walk away. “Nothing,” she chirped happily. “He’s perfect just the way he is.”

***

“Why did James say this restaurant is special? Is it the food?” Mrs. Campbell asked Barbara once they were seated at a pretty table. All four parents and the happy couple had gathered to celebrate this day and James’s accomplishments over dinner.

Barbara draped a white linen napkin over her lap and smiled at the older woman. “Well, the food is spectacular—”

“But did we need to drive half an hour for spectacular food?” Archibald complained.

Contrary to her apparently starving husband, James’s mom was delighted, and one glance out the restaurant’s picture window, which revealed a panorama of the bay, elicited a sigh from her. “The view alone is worth a half-hour drive, Archibald. Now be good.”

Barbara was amused but suppressed a giggle. “Actually, James brought me here on our very first date,” she informed the entire party.

“I told you right from the start this boy has class, Eleanore,” Barbara’s father said before sipping from his glass of water.

“The boy,” as her father had just called him, stepped up to the table at that moment, murmured an excuse, and sat down next to Barbara, before taking a big, noisy gulp from his glass.

Barbara studied him with concern, surprised that he looked so nervous now, after not batting an eyelash during the ceremony or any other moment of the graduation proceedings. She put a hand on his knee.

“Is everything okay?” she whispered, registering that he evaded her inquisitive eyes.

Something was obviously wrong, but Barbara didn’t have the slightest idea what it might be.

They were sitting at a beautifully set table in a quiet corner of an amazing restaurant, along with their parents, everyone dressed up for the occasion and ready to celebrate James’s graduation, and yet he looked like he was suffering from the worst bout of stage fright the world had ever seen. He hadn’t even looked this nervous before his very last final exam, for which he’d studied like a madman.

The weak smile he gave her before pressing a quick kiss to her lips wasn’t enough to dispel her concern, but when her mom started gushing about the amazing selection of dishes on the menu, she was sufficiently distracted.

Instead, she chatted with their guests, suggested the fresh halibut to her dad, and discussed Californian wines with Archibald—simply to bug her old man, who preferred European wines, as everyone knew.

When the appetizers were served, she told them about a project geared toward helping impoverished children, which she’d volunteered for with several of her fellow students. And as the main course was served, she excitedly revealed that she and James were thinking about going on a cruise to the Arctic Circle the following year.

The star of their gathering remained monosyllabic, which was rather atypical for him, and ate with a moderate appetite at best, though the lobster meat on his plate was the juiciest Barbara had ever seen. Fortunately, the others were unfazed by his sudden taciturnity and seemed to enjoy the evening.

When the server cleared away their plates, Barbara resolved to figure out what was going on after they left. But then the waiters brought six glasses of champagne, which nobody had ordered, she noticed with an irritated frown. At the same time, other waiters began serving what must have been dessert, but Barbara wasn’t sure, for it they were hidden under huge stainless-steel lids on elaborate serving trays.

“Ooh,” her mom squealed. “This looks so classy!”

“Who ordered the champagne?” James’s mom inquired in a delighted voice. She seemed to be just as taken with the fanfare as Eleanore Ashcroft.

“That was me,” James admitted, clearing his throat.

Barbara frowned and was just about to say something when the waiters lifted the cloches with a flourish, revealing elaborate dessert concoctions.

Or rather … there were delicious desserts on five of the plates. But not on hers.

On her plate, there was only a very small box, which looked suspiciously like a …

Her eyes widened, and she barely heard the delighted sighs of the two older women at the table, because she was staring at James, speechless and giddy, while he pushed his chair back and got down on one knee beside her, took her hand, and kissed it.

Her throat was dry and her head empty as she stared into his face.

His voice sounded grave as he murmured, “Barbara Gabriella Ashcroft, would you—”

“Yes!” She took a shaky breath and nodded frantically. “Yes, I will!”

The corners of his mouth quirked upward. “But I didn’t even get to ask you, love.”

The barrage of emotions was getting wilder and wilder, until she feared she would start to cry any moment. “Then please ask me,” she whispered in a trembling voice.

He grinned and kissed her hand a second time. “Barbara Gabriella Ashcroft, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife … even if that means you’ll have to put up with my jokes about clown college for the rest of your life?”

Her eyes filled with tears as she nodded, alternatively touched and amused. “Yes, I want to be your wife … you clown.”

James cupped her face with both hands, kissed her with a hint of desperation, and then slid the beautiful ring onto her finger. It fit perfectly.