Arianne
alerie just called to let me know Beckett was back in the office. With a ball of fear lodged de ep in
the pit of my stomach, I trail down the hallway to his office.
I rap on the door. “Knock, knock, knock.” “Come in.” I open the door, but don’t st ep inside.
Instead, I stick my head and shoulders in his office. It’s best, in case I need to make a run for it.
After all, I was a little short with him earlier.
“Is it safe to come in?” He sits back against his seat, his arresting blue eyes staring straight at me.
“It all d epends on you.”
I put my big girl panties on and st ep inside his office. I close the door behind me and lean against it,
still hesitant. I had the whole spiel rehearsed in my head, but when my eyes drop to his forearms, I
lose my ability to speak.
Wow. My gaze travels up Beckett’s defined wide chest. Even to the blind eye, it’s evident from the
way his crisp white shirt hugs his torso, every muscle of his body is well sculpted. I can picture the
perfect body hiding underneath the shirt.
In my momentary bewilderment, I continue my careful inspection. My eyes slide down to his
exposed forearms. Holy hell. “Your tattoos... the photos online don’t do them justice—” Shit. My
mouth runs away from me. “Oh, my God, I’m sorry. I was so out of line.
And unprofessional.” I close my eyes in dread.
I brace for the hatchet to fall on my neck, but it never comes. I open one eye, then the other.
“You’re stalking me?” A wide grin stretches his lips. “Bad girl.” The mischievous sparkle in his
eyes is dangerous.
“Err...” My mind speeds up in my attempt to save face. “It was for research. It’s important to know
the man—in this case, the men—behind the company.” I’m almost convinced by my own bullshit.
Beckett lets out a boisterous laugh. “That’s a valiant attempt, Miss Buchanan, but it’s too late. The
cat is out of the bag. I won’t tell a soul you have your eye on me, if you don’t.” His cocky
playfulness is doing things to me. “This can be...” He waves a finger between us. “Our little
secret.”
It’s my turn to laugh. “You’re impossible, Beckett Christensen.” “You already knew that, but I
suspect that’s not why you’re here.” My dread returns full force. “You’re right.” I let out a heavy
sigh. I take several st eps forward until I’m standing in front of his desk. “I’m sorry—”
“For chewing me up and spitting me out?” “For redirecting my anger towards you, yes. I was rude.
You didn’t deserve it. It’s not your fault I’m in a pissy mood.”
“Whose fault is it?” I hesitate, dancing from one foot to the other. “My ex.” “Ah.” He nods. “What
did the asshole do?” “He announced his engagement—in a public spectacle—to the backstabber
responsible for the demise of my relationship two years ago. Granted, it takes two to tango, but the
woman he cheated on me with weaved her way into our lives”—and our bed—“and he didn’t say
no. There are other things, like my ex reneging on his word and finding out he never was interested
in me—” Something catches in my throat. “He was only interested in what I could do for him.” I
shake my head, dispersing the bad memories. “Regardless, none of it justifies how I spoke to you.
I’m sorry.”
I bite down a wave of humiliation. He nods. “I acc ept the apology.” I expect him to say more, but
instead, he stares at me, considering me. “Maybe you dodged a bullet. Your ex sounds like a royal
douchebag.”
“That’s what my best friend Phoebe ke eps reminding me.” “I don’t know the guy and I don’t know
this backstabber, but from what I know about you, I speak with confidence when I say, your ex got
shortchanged.” Beckett pauses. “He picked the wrong woman.” He flashes me a boyish smile.
My cheeks burst into flames. My whole body combusts. “You don’t have to say that to make me
feel better.” “I’m not. Contrary to your ex, I don’t talk shit.” “Thank you.” I lower my eyes. “I
should’ve k ept my emotions in check. I only found out last night about the engagement. It was a
fluke, but the side effect was real. The headline was like a drive-by shooting to my brain. I’m not in
love anymore... it’s...”
“Hurtful and upsetting?” Beckett completes my sentence. I nod. “No one wants to be betrayed.” I
shake my head. “Don’t you wish you were a Red Priestess with blood-magic powers, capable of
giving birth to a full-blown shadow baby to take care of your ex and the backstabber?”
I didn’t see that coming. A laugh chortles out of me. He chuckles. “You know what I’m talking
about?” “Yes,” I say when I regain my composure. “I’m a huge fan of the epic series.”
“So am I. And here I thought we were complete opposites. Turns out we have another thing in
common.”
“Turns out we do.” I return his smile. He has a great sense of humor. “I’m sure I screwed things up,
but if the dinner invitation still stands...” I let my sentence trail.
“Really?” His gorgeous eyes light up. “Really,” I say. “As you pointed out, we both have to eat and,
to be honest, I don’t know if I can handle being alone tonight. My best friend Phoebe is in Australia.
She won’t be back until tomorrow and I don’t know anyone else in LA.”
I can’t believe I’m willing to be this vulnerable and transparent with a man I don’t know.
Beckett gets up and rounds his desk until he’s standing next to me. I almost lose myself in his
beautiful blue eyes. This close, they’re like two fiery aquamarine stones staring back at me. His
gaze lingers on me long enough to make me blush. I lower my gaze, chewing my lower lip in the
hopes of regaining my bearings as a rush of hot shivers runs through me.
A man has never elicited this type of pull before. “I’m sorry, Arianne, but dinner is a no go.” “Oh.”
Good job, Arianne. “Earlier, you said dinner between us had to be strictly business. After what you
shared, I can’t agree to that. You have to decide if you’re okay deviating from that stipulation or if
you’ll stick to your guns.”
Confusion causes my eyebrows to knit together. “I was going to take you to a notable restaurant,
but not anymore,” he says. “We need to have a kickass dining experience followed by a wild night
out on the town. It’s the best remedy to say fuck you to your ex and flip the middle finger to that
backstabber.”
His words are wishful thinking. “It’s not like they’re going to know,” I say. “True, but you’ll know,
and you’ll feel a hell of a lot better. If I do a good job—and push you out of your comfort
zone—you’ll forget their existence.”
From his lips to God’s ears. “I’m almost afraid to ask what you have in mind.” “Remember when
we were roommates in that elevator?” “You’ll never let me live that down, will you?” “No. Never.
I’ll milk it for all it’s worth,” he says. “Going back to that day... When the lights turned back on,
you told me you had never closed a bar or a dance floor.”
“It’s true.” “We need to change that. Let’s go out and paint the town red.” “But it’s only
Wednesday.” “This is LA—the city that never sle eps.” “Isn’t that New York?”
“Please. They wish.” I laugh. “Are we on?” I shake my head and nod at the same time. My
thoughts, a jumble. “Are you turning me down again?” “I’m not. I came in here to apologize. This
turnabout is beyond my expectations.”
“So, it’s a yes, then?” “Beckett, I can’t ke ep up with you.” He takes a st ep closer. It’s so intimate, I
feel the warmth of his body radiating through mine. Dear God.
“You’re underestimating yourself,” he says. His eyes are almost hooded beneath his thick, dark
eyelashes.
Am I imagining things? A jarring thought hits me. “I don’t have anything to wear. My wardrobe
consists of pantsuits, skirtsuits, and an infinite number of vests. Nothing appropriate to hang out
with a former rock star.”
God, that sounded so geeky. Really, Arianne? A hot guy suggests a carefree night and that’s your
lame excuse? “Weren’t you here at six this morning, Arianne?” I knew sle ep would evade me the
second I read that headline last night. Coming in early was a way of distracting my mind.
“Yes,” I say. He looks down at his impressive watch. Like the rest of him, it screams power and
money. “It’s a little past one right now, which means you’ve clocked seven hours of work for the
day. I suggest you pack up your things and hit a couple stores.”
“Seriously?” “Absolutely. Does dinner at eight work?” “It does.” “I’ll pick you up.” “That sounds
great.” “Now we have that settled, let’s talk about Rhys.”