I’m a b-school student and former journalist. He’s a b-school student and former consultant. And, yes, we met in class at b-school and may or may not have had our first date at a 1980s party — at which I was wearing yellow leggings and he had on a white Don Johnson suit.
He proposed as the sun was coming up on 1/1/11 on the bow of a boat in the British Virgin Islands. After a romantic 20 minutes alone, our nine other friends on board descended with congratulations.
When we returned stateside a few days later, I was wishing my family was around to celebrate with. He took me to dinner at a lovely French restaurant — and — surprise! — there were my parents and his parents with a bottle of champagne.
I’m a lucky, lucky gal.