After he finished speaking, tears pooled in my eyes. It wasn’t just the words he had said, but also the way he’d delivered them. That combination was the exact reason I’d wanted to come work for his campaign to start with, and once I had the job, it was Senator Callahan’s passion and devotion to the American people that fueled me to do everything within my power to see him elected. In an odd way, being Barrett’s fake fiancée was an extension of that promise—an extension I was also being well compensated for—and I never, ever wanted to fail at a job. I was too much of a perfectionist.
“So are you two in this?” Senator Callahan prompted.
Barrett turned to look at me. From his expression, I could see his father’s speech had moved him also. Gone was the cocky smirk and mischievous glint in his eyes; instead, he appeared solemn. “I’m in.”
“Me too.”
Senator Callahan bobbed his head. “Good. Now I need to go check with Mary Anne to see if your suite is ready. I’ll be right back.”
After Senator Callahan left, I was alone with Barrett, and we sat in an uncomfortable silence—although, maybe for the two of us, silence was good. When I stared down at my hands, it suddenly hit me that my left hand was a little naked for a gal who was affianced.
“What about an engagement ring? Marshall didn’t mention it in the contract.”
“Don’t worry. You’ll get one.”
“Do I get to pick from a briefcase full of rings like Princess Diana did, or do we see what the claw picks up from the arcade game?”
Barrett snorted as he shook his head. “Just like with everything else in this fucked up situation, Dad took care of the ring.” He reached into his coat pocket to procure a black velvet box. Without any moving words or declarations of fake love, he tossed the box to me. Considering my lack of athletic ability, I of course promptly fumbled it, and the box dropped to the floor.
Although I should have been completely offended by the offhanded way he was treating our engagement ring, curiosity got the better of me, and I opened the box. I gasped as I gazed down at the gleaming emerald-cut diamond before me—the mammoth emerald-cut diamond.
When I finally found my voice, I asked, “Just out of curiosity, how many carats is that?”
“Five.”
“And how much would a ring like this cost?”
“In today’s market, well over a hundred grand.”
“Holy shit,” I muttered under my breath. I couldn’t begin to imagine what it was going to be like wearing a hundred thousand dollars’ worth of bling on my hand. Then the other part of what Barrett had said registered. “What do you mean ‘in today’s market’?”
“It’s a vintage ring that belonged to my late maternal grandmother.”
My gaze snapped up to Barrett’s face. “You mean this is a family heirloom?”
“Yep.”
Now I was even more paranoid about something happening to the ring. A whole litany of scenarios where I lost the ring ran through my mind, everything from accidentally knocking it down the drain to flushing it down the toilet. It would be bad enough losing it if it were a new ring with insurance, but you couldn’t replace a family heirloom.
As I traced the sparkling diamond with my finger, I couldn’t push aside another nagging feeling. “Why would you want to waste something like this on me?”
Barrett’s forehead crinkled. “I don’t think I follow you.”
“By giving this ring to me in a fake engagement, it seems to taint it. Wouldn’t you rather wait and use this on a real fiancée one day?”
“First of all, that’s the ring from my grandmother’s third marriage after her first two husbands died.”
“Did she outlive the third?” I curiously asked.
“Actually, no.”
I stared down at the ring in slight revulsion. “So this ring belonged to your grandmother, the black widow?”
Barrett chuckled. “She didn’t off them or anything like that. Her first husband died in the influenza outbreak of 1919, and then my grandfather died of cancer. The last husband died at ninety-nine.”
Okay, that news made me feel slightly better—I hadn’t inherited a ring belonging to a society murderess. Instead, it was from a woman who had endured a lot of heartache when it came to love. I could certainly feel for her on that one. “Even if it was her third wedding ring, wouldn’t you still like to give it to your future real fiancée?”
“Since I never plan on getting married, that would be a no.”
“You don’t really mean that.”
“Yeah, actually, I do.”
I blinked at him in disbelief a few times. I’d heard about men who were so commitment phobic they remained lifelong bachelors; I’d just never actually met one in real life. Usually the men came from broken or abusive homes, or they had parents who’d married and divorced many times. That certainly wasn’t the case for Barrett. He had two parents who were utterly devoted to each other, so I couldn’t help wondering where his negative feelings came from. “Wow. I don’t know what to say.”
With a shrug, Barrett replied, “There’s nothing you can say. It’s just how I feel.”
“Never is a very strong word. I’ve said I would never drink again after a night of downing tequila-laced Jello shots, but I always do.”
Barrett laughed. “I think binge drinking and a lifetime commitment are two very different things.”