Arianne Itossed and turned all last night. Between yearning for Beckett and what Mom revealed about Aunt Moira’s tirade, my mind wouldn’t shut down. Even my morning ritual, communing with the City of Angels as she wakes up, brought me little joy. I was too troubled. Since I was up early, I got dressed and headed to the office. If I lose myself in work, there’s no room in my head to reminisce about the irresistible CEO who did sensual, naughty, and lewd things to my body for three consecutive nights. Our morning quickies were a bonus. No word from Beckett. Not today or yesterday. I was hoping for a text message last night, but he remained radio silent. I didn’t initiate any contact. The last thing I want is for him to gently—or not so gently—dismiss me with a one-liner response. Dread eats at me at the thought I’ve made a monumental mistake. Again. Sigh. “I need a break.” I stretch my arms over my head. “Nah, I need strong coffee.” I stand up, smooth down my dress, and head to the kitchen. I st ep outside my office and bump into Valerie. “I was just coming to get you,” she says with a bright smile. “You found me,” I say with exaggerated lightness. “I surely did,” she says, gracing me with an approving head to toe glance. “I love your dress.” “Thank you. I did a little shopping before going to Germany.” I opted for a pale pink dress and matching heels. It’s feminine, yet business appropriate. “You have great taste in fashion.” “The credit goes to my personal shopper,” I say. “Fancy. When you’re a mama to three chipmunks, you can’t afford such luxuries,” she says. “Speaking of the business trip, I need all your expenses so accounting can pay you back. The boss brought his in.” Oh, he’s here? “Beckett took care of everything. I didn’t have to pull out my credit card once.” “One less thing to worry about,” she says. “The other reason I was coming to see you is because the boss came in with a sugar high, aka three flavors of blondies, an equal number of chocolate brownies, and chewy peanut butter brownies for the executive floor. They’re to die for. Perfect with coffee. They’re in the 1938 Crocker conference room.” “I still can’t get over the names of the conference rooms.” “I know, right,” she says. “In any case, Paula mentioned the security log shows you arrived at seven.” Paula checks them every morning to track employees who work outside regular hours. “I did.” “Honey, you’re setting a bad example for the rest of us,” Valerie says. “Soon, the bosses will get it in their minds we should all arrive at Ariannetime.” “After so many days away, I had a lot to catch up on.” “Well, you can’t do it without caffeine or sugar. Come on, you need a break.” She pulls me by the arm.
As we pass in front of the 1916 Traub conference room, my heart starts tripping as if I were a contestant in a Double Dutch championship when a pair of blue eyes lifts up to mine. I stumble as Valerie ke eps dragging me behind her, unaware of my growing tr epidation. The man looks five-alarm hot in another impeccable suit. Only Beckett Christensen can make pinstripe look edgy. He holds my gaze as we traverse the hallway. His face is unreadable. There isn’t even a hint of a smile. Bad news is coming. I avert my gaze so he can’t read my disappointment. When Valerie and I enter the conference room, a crowd of employees are chatting as they chomp down on blondies and brownies, cups of coffee in hand. To avoid being impolite, I plaster a smile on my face and join in. After a few minutes of water cooler conversation, I can’t ke ep up the charade. My heart isn’t in it. I excuse myself and scurry back to my office. I close the door and rest my head against it. I can’t believe I put myself in this predicament again. The phone on my desk rings, putting an end to my self-wallowing. I march to my desk and pick up without checking the display. “Yes?” “Good morning, it’s Beckett.” My heart stops. “Do you have a minute?” If he’s calling the landline instead of calling my phone or texting me, things aren’t looking good. “Hmmm... I’m in the middle of—” “Let me r ephrase that. I need to see you in my office right now.” “I’ll be right there.” I take my courage in my own two hands and head to his office in a series of trembling st eps. When I get there, I take in a de ep breath and exhale before knocking. “Come in.” I enter. He’s leaning against his desk, looking every bit the ruler he is. He looks good enough to eat. Who needs blondies? The man turns a well-cut white shirt into a drool-worthy experience. Too bad for me, I know what’s hidden underneath is even more delicious. We stare at each other without saying a word. He gets up. The hot ruler is about to seal my fate. He walks right past me. I turn around to see where he’s heading. He locks the door, turns around, leans back, and crosses his arms over his wide chest. It doesn’t go unnoticed how his eyes are undressing me. I grow uncomfortable under his inspection. I clear my throat and brush a strand of hair behind my ear. “You wanted to see me?” “I did, but I needed a minute to admire you.” Another onceover. “You look amazing.” “Thank you.” He pushes off the door. “Let’s sit down.” He points to the seating area. I head towards one of the large chairs, but he stops me. “I want you to sit next to me on the couch.” “Okay.” These theatrics are only delaying the inevitable. The second I sit down, memories of the day he reddened my ass come flooding back. My cheeks burn up in flames. “Valerie, hold all my calls. I’ll be in a meeting for a while.” Not good. Not good at all. He sits down next to me. “I don’t want any interruptions.” My nerves get the best of me. “You don’t have to worry about me turning into a psycho crazy bitch.” I can’t bring myself to look at him, so I stare at my lap, playing with my fingers like a child. “Look at me.” I’m steadfast in my decision to avoid reading anything that might destroy me in his ocean-blue eyes.
“I said, look at me.” Ignoring his command, I ke ep staring at my lap. “Beckett, I get it. What happened in Germany, stays in Germany. You’re the CEO and you have a company to run. I made a commitment to you. I will be the picture of professionalism in executing my role—” “For the love of God, woman. Look at me.” I slide a weary gaze his way. “Your plan was to seduce me and then forget about me?” I’m startled by his question. “Wh—what?” “I’ll have to get HR in volved.” Panic seizes me. “Wh—why?” “You took advantage of me in Germany. You used my body for your own pleasure and now you want us to be all business and shit?” My jaw drops. Is he high? “What are you talking about? I never used you.” “You did,” he says, “and I enjoyed how you used me.” Thank God he’s kidding. “We need to talk,” he says. The four most dreaded words in the English language. “Okay,” I say, acc epting the inevitable. He places a hand on top of mine on my lap. His warmth se eps right through me. I have to hold back a moan. His gaze meets mine. “You must be wondering why I’ve been MIA?” “I understand. You’ve been busy—” “Stop bullshitting, Arianne. You and I both know it has nothing to do with work.” I swallow hard. I twist my fingers together. “Beckett, I don’t understand what’s going on here.” “Thank you for being honest.” “If you have something to say, spit it out.” Make it quick. Put me out of my misery. I don’t know if I can handle the truth, but it beats staying in limbo. “When I dropped you off at your place on Sunday, I wanted to come up and spend the night in your bed, but I chickened out.” My eyes bulge out of my skull. “You did?” “I did... and that’s the problem.” I tilt my head to the side. “You lost me.” “I don’t do sle epovers and I don’t do r epeat performances with the same woman.” “That last part makes it sound like we were part of a Vegas circus act.” He laughs. “Given the way we were going at it in all sorts of crazy positions, I’d say it qualifies.” “Ha. Ha.” His expression changes. All lightheartedness dissipates. “I tend not to sle ep with the same woman more than once.” I wince. “You took me by surprise. I didn’t expect to crave you so much.” I don’t know what to say. “I needed time to think because all this is new to me,” he says. I’m still unable to speak. He brings a hand to my face. “Arianne, I want to go out on a date with you.” “A date?” I find my voice. “Yes, a real date. We’ve been fooling around, but that’s not enough anymore.” “It’s not?” “No. I don’t want to sneak around to be with you.” “You don’t?” Well, there goes good money thrown out the door. With two college degrees under my belt, I can’t even form a cohesive sentence. “I don’t know what it is about you, but I can’t get enough of you.” “Dear God. I must be dreaming. This can’t be happening.” “You’re not dreaming, baby.” Damn inner voice. “I can’t believe I said that out loud.” I’m so embarrassed. “Can I assume we’re on the same page?” I nod. “Yes.” “Yes, what?” “Yes, to everything you said, and hell yes to going out with you on a real date.”
He smiles wide. I grin like a fool. Beckett Christensen wants to go out on a real date with me? Someone needs to pinch me now. “I’ll have a meeting with Valerie to let her know about us and I’ll do the same with Rhys’s executive assistant. I’ll speak to him when he gets back.” I blink. “Oh, you want to make it official?” “What part of I don’t want to sneak around to be with you didn’t you understand?” I’m taken aback. “This is a big st ep, Beckett.” “That’s why I was MIA,” he says. “I needed time to understand what I wanted with you. I’m not a half-measure kind of guy. It’s all or nothing with me.” Oh my God, I’m going to pass out. “What about everybody else in the office?” He runs the pad of his thumb across my lower lip. “The rest of the staff doesn’t need to know about my private life. We’ll be discreet in the office. I’m not going to send a mass email letting everyone know my relationship status has changed.” I bat my eyelashes at him. “Relationship status?” “Yes. If we’re dating, that implies you’re my girlfriend.” I’m dead.