Maybe Married. Leigh Michaels
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a moment with you, privately.”
Dana looked around the room. She still had to freshen up the flower arrangements and move them off the tea table so it could be torn down, and Connie could use help in shifting all the chairs. There was no time to spare for chitchat, but after all, Barclay Howell was the boss. “Let me get rid of this cart first.”
“I’ll be in the music room.”
She pushed the cart down the hall toward the kitchen and then returned to the front of the house. Next to the front door, across the wide entrance hall from the drawing room, was a much smaller, more intimate room. She tapped on the half-open door and went in.
Barclay Howell was selecting music from a cabinet full of compact disks. He put one in the slot and the first notes of a violin concerto murmured through the room. “You did a wonderful job today, Dana,” he said. “Every one of those women was thrilled with the meeting arrangements.”
“Thank you.” Dana frowned. “But I wonder why they were so pleased. There wasn’t anything particularly original about anything I did today.”
Barclay smiled broadly. “Dana, Dana. You must stop disparaging yourself.”
“But in this case it’s true, sir. Those women must have been to hundreds of afternoon teas, and this one wasn’t any different, really. I wonder why they made it a point to tell you that.” We approve, Mrs. Janowitz had said. Dana was beginning to get a ticklish feeling in her stomach as she wondered just exactly what Mrs. Janowitz had meant. “Unless they were just being extra polite.”
“No, it was more than that. You have a certain flair for these things. Sit down, Dana, and let’s talk.” He gestured toward a deeply-upholstered chair.
Dana was torn between wanting to stay and needing to go back to work. Pursuing this conversation right now was really going to ruin her schedule. On the other hand, this was the first chance she’d had to talk to Barclay Howell about anything more important than canapes.
Until the last six weeks, the university’s president had been little more than a name to Dana. But since she’d started working directly with him at Baron’s Hill, she’d begun to realize that he was a very attractive man—and not only because of his looks. Not that she knew him well enough to really judge, yet. But now, suddenly, he seemed to be starting to notice her on a personal level…The ticklish feeling grew stronger.
“The cocktail party,” she began. “I really need to—”
“I’m sure your assistant can manage the details for a few minutes. If there’s one small flaw in the way you handle things, Dana, it’s that you insist on doing so much yourself rather than delegating it.”
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