Sultry in Stilettos (4 page)

“Beckett, you missed the big
announcement. You’ll be adventure lead on a Master Fantasy coming
up.”

He blinked in surprise and
instinctively turned to Ricca. “I guess we’ll be working
together.”

The moment their eyes locked, he felt
the rush of prickly heat all over his body. Memories of her soft
lips under his flashed in his mind. The way her curves had molded
to his hands, and the way her petite frame had molded to his body.
He was glad he had his notebook covering the front of his
pants.

As for her response, it was
unreadable. Her eyes went wide for a moment, then she turned back
around so quickly that the wisps of hair escaping her bun flew out
like a fan.

Fantastic. One kiss had cost him his
best friend.

Serena cleared her throat. “Not quite.
You’ll be working with Angel as the romance lead.”

He frowned. Angel? She had no
experience.

Angel grinned at him, and
his body jerked. He should never have slept with her. Worst move
he’d ever made.
Funny, you were happy
enough to sleep with her two weeks ago.
It
had been just after a street racing adventure, and they’d still
been high off of the adrenaline. She was beautiful, but cold and
seriously bitchy. He never should have gone there.
Too late now
. But still,
how the hell had Angel gotten this job over Ricca?

“Okay.” He tried for a
smile, but all he really managed to do was show some teeth.
One hell of a mistake to sleep with her.
He slung his gaze back to Serena, who was still
talking.

“As you may have heard, we’re
restructuring the company—so that Zach and I don’t have to be so
involved. As a result, we’re opening up a Vice President of Major
Accounts position. The position is open to all fantasy planners.
Based on your performance on this mission and the last six months,
one of you will be slotted into the Vice President
role.”

Beckett held his breath. VP
based on performance. The only person who was his real competition
was Ricca.
Yeah, but she’s just been
benched
. If he didn’t royally fuck this
up, the job was his.

At the same time, guilt
pinched him. Could he really take this job from her?
Hell yes.
This kind of
job would mean the funds he needed to complete the ramshackle, old
gym. He slid Ricca another glance. He was willing to do what it
took to get this job.

“Ricca, I know it’s not
what you expected, but for now you’ll have to live with the
arrangement.”

Ricca shook her head at
Serena, exasperated. “I don’t understand. Last time we spoke, you
said I’d be next in line to do a Master fantasy. That was right
before the holiday. Now, Angel is running it. I don’t understand.
If you had a change of heart, I’d like to understand
why.”

Ricca took a deep breath.
There—she’d said what she had to say.
Sort
of.
She wanted to tell Serena what a crazy
bitch Angel was, but that wouldn’t be exactly professional. Ricca
had been working her ass off for an opportunity to shine like
this.

Serena pursed her lips.
“It’s not your time. You’ll just have to wait.”

“Serena, you know I can be
patient. But if there’s a VP position, I want a fair shot at it.
I’m concerned I won’t get that now.”

Her boss folded her
delicate arms across her Herve Leger-clad chest. “Ricca, honestly.
You’ve played it too safe. Your romance fantasies are beautiful and
inventive, but you never really step out of your box. That’s not
what I want from one of my VPs. You have to be willing to have
something go terribly wrong. I need to see more of that from
you.”

Well
hell
. “I take risks.” Okay, not really,
but like hell she was telling Serena that.

“Oh really? What was the
last risk you took?”

Kissing Beckett.
But she couldn’t use that one. “I—um.”

“Look. Do your job. Try
and keep Angel from screwing this fantasy up. Your time will
come.”

Talk about uninspiring.
How the hell was she supposed to take risks? Her job was to make
the client happy. That’s one thing she did well. She might not be
daring, but she got it done. She certainly didn’t take any risks
with her personal life, but hey, risk wasn’t exactly her middle
name.

Maybe Serena was right.
But if she could find a way to do some risk taking, maybe she still
had a shot at the job. Just one problem—evil incarnate in towering
Christian Louboutins. How the hell was she going to work with
Angel? Since starting at Fantasies a year and a half ago, Angel had
made it a point to be extra cruel to her. At first, Ricca had
thought she was just tough and ambitious. But then she’d realized
Angel was just plain mean.

As Ricca made her way to
her office, she went the long way around the kitchen, to bypass
Beckett’s office. No dealing with that bomb just yet. She took the
last ten yards on tip toe, to avoid making any noise and alerting
him to her return.

Breathing a huge sigh of
relief, she slipped off her shoes. Might as well make herself
comfortable—she had mountains of work to do. As soon as all the
holiday and New Year’s Eve proposals were done, she had to gear
right back up for the Valentine’s Day fantasies. As it was, she had
two weddings, a sweet sixteen, and four proposals on her
plate.

“You know, it’s not nice
to avoid people. Especially when they buy you coffee.”

Ricca halted in her doorway
as Beckett swiveled around in her chair.
Damn
. “What are you doing in my
office?” Her shoulders sagged. She entered slowly, unsure of where
to look.

“You can’t avoid me
forever.”

She sighed and dropped her
notebook on her desk, plopping into the chair across from him. “I’m
not avoiding you exactly. I’m just delaying speaking to you for a
while. Totally different.”

“Semantics.”

The timber of his voice
rolled over her, making all her lady parts
tingle—
pathetic
.
That was the only word to describe her. Totally pathetic. It took
her several seconds to process what he'd said.

“Your point?” She cocked
her head. She could do this. Pull off breezy and unaffected. Never
mind what was happening to her lady parts.

He stood and walked to her
window that showed off a spectacular view of the Embarcadero and
Seaport Village. "Um." He shoved his hands in his pockets as he
rocked back on his heels. "About the other night. I'm sorry. I was
out of line."

Out of
line
. More like
holyfuckingshitballs-mind-blowingly-stupid. But, in a pinch, out of
line fit. “Look, Beckett, let’s not do this, okay? It’s
fine.”

"I honestly don’t know
what came over me. We were there, we were joking. And next thing I
knew, I’m—we’re—well, you remember. I’m sorry, Ree. I never meant
to go there with you—like that I mean. Like you’re—” He paused and
huffed out a breath. “You’re not some sleazy girl I picked up from
the club."

Oh hell
. She wasn’t sure which was worse. The awkwardness or having
to listen to him apologize for giving her a kiss that was so good
he should be teaching lessons.

She gave him a brisk nod
and muttered, "Fine," as she blinked up at him and jutted her chin
out. Crumbling in front of him wasn’t an option. She leveled him
with a gaze.

He put a hand over his
chest. "I'll be on my best behavior from now on. I promise. We
good?"

And what if she didn’t
want him to be on his best behavior? Stupid question. Never going
to happen. "Yeah, we’re good."

He flashed those pearly
whites, and her lady parts did another dance.
Down girls
. No more thoughts about
Beckett. No more obsessing.

He exhaled. “Awesome. Want
to grab something to eat before we get stuck in that two hour
debrief?”

“I can’t, actually. I need
to do some catch up.”

He made to leave, then
paused in the doorway. He turned and watched her for a moment. The
scrutiny made her skin tingle. He spoke in a low voice. “You never
texted.”

Ricca chewed on her lip,
waiting several beats before answering, “Neither did
you.”

After the day from hell, Ricca sat on
Micha’s orange, shag carpet and blinked at the glass of amber
liquid Micha placed in front of her. "What is that?"

Micha shook her head. "You don’t want
to know. Just drink it. You'll feel better."

Ricca eyed the glass dubiously, then
grabbed it and chugged its contents. The liquid flowed down her
throat and warmed her stomach. It only took a moment before she
felt the lancing burn spread through her gut.

"Holy shit.” She sputtered and
coughed. “What the fuck, Micha?"

Micha gave her a satisfied nod.
"Kentucky bourbon. Good for a broken heart, a pissed off
girlfriend, or plotting to kill your co-workers." She pointed at
the label. “It says so right here.”

"But I don’t have a broken
heart."

Jaya gave her a soft smile and patted
her knee. "I think the bourbon works for being pissed off at an
asshole ex too." She sniffed her own glass but put it down on the
coffee table before taking a drink.

Ricca glanced down at her glass. Jaya
had a point. Feeling almost uncomfortably hot, she slipped off her
double layers of cardigans. "Hit me again."

Micha grinned as she cocked her head,
her silky spirals spilling over her shoulder. She poured Ricca
another glass then sat across from her. "Okay. You ready to
talk?"

Ricca shrugged. "You guys already know
what happened."

Jaya squeezed her knee again. "Ricca,
all you said in your email was ‘Charles and I broke up. Talk when
you get back.’ Then you didn’t answer my emails or
calls."

Micha nodded in agreement. “Talk about
cryptic. Then Beckett is the one who calls us to check on you
tonight. What gives?”

Ricca drank this round a little
slower. She’d just gotten her couch reupholstered and didn’t need
bourbon spittle on it. "Shit, I'd love to understand it. Charles
dumped me at the Gala."

Jaya sat up, her brows furrowing.
“Wait, what? Ricca, why didn’t you say anything? That was over a
week ago.”

Ricca squirmed under their scrutiny.
“Look, at the time, you had just gotten engaged. I think, perhaps,
you were getting engaged as I was being broken up with. And, Micha,
you were schmoozing the Mayor, and Beckett came over and was
distracted about some girl or another, and then we all dispersed
for the holiday.” She shrugged. “This is the first night we’re
getting to sit down and talk.”

Micha narrowed her eyes. “I told you
to dump that ass-wipe before the holidays.”

Ricca nodded. “Yeah, I know. You were
right.”

Micha nodded ruefully. “Annoying,
isn’t it?”

Ricca had to chuckle. "Extremely." The
warmth in her belly started to spread to her extremities. "God,
it’s like he wanted to embarrass me. He told me I was too clingy,
that I wasn’t fun, and that I didn’t dress well.“

“Clearly he’s a moron,” Micha
said.

Jaya tipped her head. "So what are you
going to do?"

For the first time that day, Ricca
felt like laughing. "Yeah, I might have intimated that I planned to
find the fucker and torch his car."

Both Micha and Jaya stared at her,
their mouths agape. Then Micha laughed. "I'm glad to see I’m
rubbing off."

Ricca shrugged. "You guys honestly
don’t have to worry about me and the break up. I’m fine. Mostly.”
She shrugged. “And as for the job, it seems that Serena wants me to
work with the mean girls. Just been a rough couple of
weeks.”

“You should have called us, kid,”
Micha grumbled.

Jaya studied her with big brown eyes.
"Ricca, are you sure you're okay?"

"You guys, honestly, I’ll be fine. I'm
just a little sad to have been stuck with the loser for so long
then to have him dump me with some bullshit excuse about how I’m
too clingy and I clearly want marriage." She scoffed. She finished
the contents of her glass, then stuck it out to Micha, who poured
another two fingers. In that moment, Ricca made the conscious
decision not to tell her friends about Beckett. The situation was
already complicated enough. And she didn’t need them mother-henning
her. She could take care of herself.

Several hours later, Ricca
woke to cottonmouth and the urge to pee. Sitting up, she peered at
her surroundings.
Shit
. She’d gotten drunk, Micha and Jaya had brought her home and
they'd left her on the couch to sleep it off.
Perfect
. Humiliation complete. Just
what she needed. Swinging her legs off the micro-suede cushions,
she padded into the bathroom. After using the bathroom, she washed
her face and stared at herself in the mirror. Yesterday had been a
shit day. It was up to her to make today better.