“How so?”
“Because you won’t get along. Believe me. It’s been proven time and again.”
“Right.” Becca submitted to the whirring whine of the hair dryer, as bits of hair hit her cheeks and forehead. The dryer didn’t stop Xanthe from explaining.
“The next thing is the political party test because studies prove that more than any other factor a matching political party determines compatibility.”
“More than religion or ethnicity or anything else?”
“Yeppers. More than same taste in Metallica and Def Leppard versus One Direction and Kenny G, even. Believe me, I can vouch for that.”
Becca didn’t want to go probing into that one. “The cat person versus dog person, plus the political party test?” Right. Whatever. People were complex, and there were no guarantees. No silver bullet tests. But, then again, sometimes life had simple answers. Besides, Carson didn’t have any pets. Did he? And for sure they had similar political views, no matter how he was officially registered in a party or not. “That’s it?”
“No, no. Those are just the preliminary tests. If those are both red flags, don’t bother with the third one. It’s a little … scientific.”
“I’m okay with science. So is Carson. He’s doing his undergrad in political science.” Ugh. Could she sound stupider? The hair salon fumes were dissolving her brain.
“There was a huge, years-long study done at Stanford. They called it the Marshmallow Test because researchers used marshmallows to determine whether a child, who later became an adult, could delay gratification and thereby become a successful person throughout life.”
A long-term test sounded trustworthy. Becca sat up and listened to this. “How could a marshmallow tell all that?”
“A child subject seated at a table was given a marshmallow. The subject was told they could eat the marshmallow at any time, but if they waited for fifteen minutes, they’d be given a second marshmallow.”
“Right.” Still, this didn’t tell Becca much. “What’d they do while they waited? Read a story? Play with a toy?”
“No, they just had to sit there.”
Wow. That would be really hard for a little kid. The ones who did that had to be pretty tough-minded, or really like marshmallows enough to sacrifice like that.
“The study then tracked long-term the children who ate the marshmallow immediately versus those who waited. Those who could delay gratification proved that over the years they could make better decisions in life, like saving money to buy a car and not just running up credit cards. Those who ate the marshmallow right away had no self-control in other matters, either, and made poor life decisions like never exercising or becoming addicts.” Xanthe sounded quite authoritative as she said all this, not hokey at all. And if those findings were accurate, they were kind of frightening— that so much could be concluded about a person’s deeper personality flaws by such a tiny item as a white cube of sugar.
Somehow this started making sense in Becca’s mind, marshmallows and all. “So I should give him a marshmallow and see what he does with it?”
“It works every time, without fail.”
Becca bit her lip. The hair color was looking perfect. She’d see Carson in a couple of hours. But would she have the nerve to shove a marshmallow at Carson? She would feel stupid. Utterly weird. Anxiety ratcheted up her heart rate, and she kept vacillating. To marshmallow or not to marshmallow.
But if it would answer some of her questions— like whether Carson was a good bet, whether he was a guy she could count on to be stable— maybe she didn’t have a choice. She was so young. This guy, he’d swept her away, and she didn’t have a lot of experience, couldn’t compare him to other guys. Sure, Becca knew how she felt when she was with him, but was that all just twitterpated fluff? Grandma had liked him when she met him; everyone liked Carson.
Becca paid Xanthe and went out into the windy March day. Tucson’s purple jagged mountains pointed skyward. She looked up and said a little prayer, and then she looked in her wallet.
Just enough to buy a bag of Jet-Puffed Marshmallows. Crazy as it may seem, she had no better way to gauge whether he was a safe choice.
She had to do it.
CHAPTER TWO
“Summary Judgment”
Carson Huxley had made up his mind. Despite the fact that he always swore he wouldn’t get bogged down during school with dating and trying to find a wife, that he’d make that kind of decision when it wouldn’t screw with his GPA, he couldn’t help it. The first time he laid eyes on Becca Goldfinch during fall semester he was a goner. Even though she was a freshman.
So, so fresh, that freshman.
And it only got worse when he asked her out. He’d thrown all his alpha male façade caution to the wind and told her he loved her on their third official date, the night she wore that mummy costume, even though it was lame and was almost like a mummy with leprosy, or a mummy stripper, the way it fell apart when she walked.
When she kissed him back, there, atop the “A,” he abandoned all doubts about whether she felt the same. It came vibrating off her in waves. Since then, things had only gotten more solid for him, with every afternoon he spent in her company. He had the dip in his grades to show it. The only cure was going to be getting her to say yes, if he could get her to take him as he was.
Until he pinned her down to a commitment, he’d keep spinning in mid-air, along with his grades and his ability to focus on the LSAT. Which he had to retake next week, thanks to his meeting Becca for the first time the day before the test and staying up all night talking to her. What a mind she had; she cared about learning more than grades, and about understanding more than information. It inspired him. What a heart Becca had in her; she loved her grandma and respected all the sacrifices she’d gone through to raise her. When most girls Becca’s age were just flippant about parents or rules or old ideas, Becca was keeping track of doctor appointments and making sure her grandma was happy. She was kind and true and real. What an amazing girl.
Becca Goldfinch had turned all his plans on their ear.
Tonight. He rubbed his palms together in anxious energy and paced back and forth in his apartment, waiting for seven o’clock so he could go get her like a caveman: throw his woman over his shoulder and haul her back to his lair. His student living quarters didn’t look much better than a primitive cave. But tomorrow was graduation. And he’d start law school in the fall. After that, he’d be making some serious money, and he’d provide her with a cave upgrade.
The velvet ring box on the counter sang a little sad song, “I’m just a tiny little chip of a diamond. She won’t like me.” But Carson ignored it, because Becca wasn’t like that. She didn’t care about small diamonds. She loved him. For now, his charm was better than cash. Right? She at least seemed to think so. And he could always replace it with a five-carat rock later, if she wanted. He wanted to give Becca the best. The best of the best. But it always seemed like his simply being Carson Huxley was enough.
He pocketed the velvet box, tucked in his shirt, and went out into the warm spring night.
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Books in the Legally in Love Collection
Asked & Answered
Legally Wedded
Wills & Trust
Mergers & Acquisitions
Other Books by Jennifer Griffith
Immersed (A Billionaire Makeover Romance)
The Lost Art (A Billionaire Makeover Romance)
My Fair Aussie (A Billionaire Makeover Romance, Coming Fall 2017)
Big in Japan: Accidental Sumo
Chocolate & Conversation: A Modern Retelling of Jane Austen’s Persuasion
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Mergers & Acquisitions Page 17