Leigh Michaels – Maybe Married (страница 2)

The professional half of her would have liked to point out that managing the details was what she’d been hired to do, that Connie was pitching in only because Dana needed help and not because it was Connie’s job, and that Barclay Howell was making everything more difficult at the moment.

There were no doubt more tactful ways to make that point, but unfortunately just now Dana couldn’t think of a single one. So she stayed silent.

“Ever since Beeler got sick and you took over, things here at Baron’s Hill have been going much more smoothly. We’ve done almost twice as many events in the last six weeks as we usually do, but under your direction there hasn’t been a single problem.”

I wouldn’t exactly say that, Dana thought. The problems were there—you just didn’t hear about them.

“The entertainment has been superb, the food delicious, the guests happy.”

And I’m exhausted.

“How would you like to have the job permanently?”

As he talked, Dana’s stomach had slowly settled back into place. So much for the vague feeling that Barclay Howell might have more on his mind than the next round of events at Baron’s Hill, she thought ruefully. Of course, it was just as well that he hadn’t asked her out. Attractive though he was, dating the boss was never a good idea. Too many things could go wrong.

But she couldn’t deny that there was a flicker of disappointment deep inside her. Dana would have liked to get to know him better, to find out whether he really was as attractive as he seemed. If so, he might even be the one who could…

Then what he’d said hit her with the force of a hammer blow, and she sat up straight. “You mean Mr. Beeler isn’t coming back after all? That was a particularly awful pneumonia, I know, but surely once he’s completely over it, he’ll be able to do his job again.”

“He is recovering nicely, and he’ll be back in a couple of weeks.”

“Then—Oh, I see. It would probably be a good idea for him to have an assistant, at least for a while. That way he could stop when he was tired because I could take over, and—”

Barclay was smiling. “I don’t intend for you to be his assistant, Dana, but his boss.”

“You’re demoting Mr. Beeler and putting me in his place? He isn’t going to like that. He’s been here forever, sir.”

“He’ll have the same position as always.” Barclay sat down on the arm of a chair opposite Dana. “I’m not doing this very well, am I? Let me start over. Baron’s Court will always need someone to manage all the official events that the president hosts, and Mr. Beeler fills that job very nicely.”

“Then I don’t see where I come in.”

“He’s very good with details, but Baron’s Court needs more than that. It needs someone with vision and imagination and a sense of drama. It needs something that’s been lacking ever since I took the job here. It needs…” He paused, as if he expected Dana to fill in the blank.

Dana stayed silent.

“It needs a hostess, Dana. The biggest difficulty about my position here has been trying to handle all the responsibilities alone.” He chuckled. “Not the professional ones, of course. But the social things—making nice with all the faculty spouses and the pennant-waving alumni…I’m certainly not fussing about those people, they’re all quite charming really. But having someone to help with all that…”

“A hostess,” Dana said slowly.

“Yes. You must have noticed how well we work together. We’re a terrific team. And it would be quite a good opportunity for you. Though I wouldn’t admit it publicly, of course, I don’t intend to spend my whole career at a small private university. It’s a good place for my first job in top administration, but I have my eye on something bigger. Much bigger.” He sounded almost coy. “You wouldn’t lose by throwing in your lot with me.”

The ticklish feeling in Dana’s stomach had turned into an actual pain. He couldn’t possibly be saying what it sounded like. Teaming up with him…moving on to a bigger university…being his hostess…It sounded as if the man was talking about her whole life, not just a job.

No, she told herself, she was reading meanings where none existed. He couldn’t possibly mean that.

A wicked little imp at the back of her brain made her wonder what he’d do if she threw herself at him and accepted a proposal he hadn’t made. Watching the always-cool Barclay Howell turn pale and stammer in shock might be entertaining—and it would make him speak more carefully next time, too, instead of dancing around a subject like a politician. But it would hardly be a nice thing to do.

Barclay’s smile began to look a little forced. “Dana, I’m asking you to marry me.”

He was serious? She’d actually been right? She spoke before she stopped to think. “That’s ridiculous. We’ve never even been to a movie together.”

He frowned. “What does that have to do with it?”

The frightening thing, Dana thought, was that as far as he was concerned it wasn’t a rhetorical question. Things like movies, dinners, walks in the park, getting to know each other…all were unimportant. Barclay Howell had made up his mind.

“I told you, we’re an excellent team.”

Funny, I thought proposals were supposed to cover things like love. “Sir, I think it would be best if—”

“Please, my dear. Call me Barclay. Since we’re going to be married—”

Just a few minutes ago, she’d thought it was kind of cute how easily he could manipulate people into doing what he wanted. But now that he was using the knack to try to maneuver her, Dana was feeling something close to panic. “I haven’t agreed to anything of the sort.”

For one unguarded instant he looked startled by the possibility that she would consider turning him down, and then he smiled again. “Well, not yet,” he said affably. “I suppose I was a bit abrupt.”

A bit abrupt? That was one way to put it, Dana thought, though it wouldn’t have been her first choice of words. The arrogance he was displaying was unbelievable, completely unlike the man she had thought he was.

So much for your judgment, she told herself. But then, we’ve always known you weren’t too sharp where men are concerned.

“So I won’t ask you for an answer just now. Take your time, and let me know when you’re ready, Dana.”

As if there could only be one answer. As if she was only delaying just so she didn’t look desperate by snatching at his proposal…

Now she knew what Mrs. Janowitz had been talking about, when Dana had said she’d be going back to her regular job. Of course that’s the official line, for now. But those of us who can see what’s really going on approve.

The woman had known what Barclay Howell intended—long before Dana herself had even suspected. Had he taken a poll, for heaven’s sake? Checked out his little idea with his advisers to make sure they wouldn’t object to his choice of a first lady for the university?

It was just as well he wasn’t demanding an answer right now. She’d have a hard time finding one that wouldn’t singe Barclay Howell’s aristocratic ears.

She got to her feet, feeling a little unsteady.

“Dana,” he said. “Just one more thing before you go. I haven’t had a chance to tell you how very important this cocktail party is. Quite possibly the most important one yet.”

Dana was relieved to step back onto familiar ground, even though it seemed to be wobbling under her toes. The most important cocktail party yet? Why?

You should be honored, the imp at the back of her brain suggested, that he proposed before he brought up the cocktail party.

Dana ran through the guest list in her mind. The president’s cocktail party was a regular monthly event, and tonight’s guests were the usual mix. There were a few people from the foundation which raised funds for the university, a few of their most regular donors, a few alumni who might become donors, a few professors, and a few students being honored for special achievements. Dana couldn’t think of anybody who was at all unusual. So what made this particular party any different than the one she’d arranged last month?

“I’ve invited an extra guest,” Barclay said. “I happened to hear just this morning that he was in town, and I called him up on the chance that he might be free this evening. He seemed quite pleased to be asked. So I’d like you to make a special effort to make sure he feels welcome here.”

Lingering shock made her feel like saying she’d tell the bartender to be sure the special guest got an extra paper umbrella in his drink, but she restrained herself. “I try to arrange things so everyone feels welcome.”

“No, I mean a little personal effort. Instead of vanishing into the background tonight, Dana, I’d like you to stick around.”

“Play hostess,” she said. The words tasted like sawdust.

“If you want to call it that. I’d rather think that you were trying out the role.”

“Whatever you wish, sir.”

He shook a gently chiding finger. “You must get over that habit, my dear. When we’re married…yes, I know, you haven’t given me an answer yet. But you may as well get used to the change, anyway.”

Dana took a deep breath, decided not to say what she was thinking, and started for the door.

“Don’t you want to know who the guest is?”

“It won’t make any difference in how I treat him,” Dana pointed out.