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Beckett reaches across the table and places his large hand over mine.
A jolting electric shock had run through my body when we shook hands, but now… holy volcano.
“Relax.”
The simple word passes Beckett’s beautiful lips like a soft caress.
“It’s not like you’re going to fail a test, Arianne,” he says.
The mention of my name slaps me back to reality.
What the hell is wrong with me? He’s a client! And the boss! Snap out of it!
“You’re already hired.” He offers a warm and reassuring smile. “Rhys and I are putting things into context.”
“Thank you for saying that,” I tell him.
He nods, that seductive smile still stretching his lips.
“Beckett was, slash is, Random Misconception’s lead singer,” Rhys says.
I furrow my eyebrows.
“Random Misconception had a comeback six months ago as the backup band for Stasia van Gameren.”
“I see,” I say.
“Back in the day, the four guys behind the band dominated the charts. The exposure from the band’s recent comeback exploded our business. We couldn’t keep up. Beckett acquired a whole new generation of fans overnight. His guest appearance as a co-judge on Jam Session—a popular entertainment talent show—also helped boost sales—”
“So, you’re juggling all three—the business, the TV show, and your rock star career?” I ask Beckett.
When does this guy sleep?
“The TV show isn’t a full-time gig,” Beckett says. “The comeback was a favor to my cousin Jagger. His girlfriend needed a band, so the four of us reunited. Random Misconception no longer goes on the road, but we’ll do the occasional late-night show appearance.”
“Who are the other members?” I ask.
“Rod Wolfe is on drums, my older brother Holt—who heads a successful record label in his spare time—is on bass, and my cousin Jace is on guitar,” Beckett says. “I’m also on guitar and I’m the lead singer, as Rhys pointed out.”
“I’m not into rock music, which explains why I’ve never heard of you,” I say. “I’ve never met a professional musician before. That’s impressive.”
“Beckett isn’t a professional musician. He’s a rock god—same for the other three members of the group,” Rhys says.
“We used to be.” Beckett chuckles. “Past tense. We traded our instruments for business suits. We’re all busy execs now, hence why I’m running this small business with you!” Beckett points to his business partner.
“Small?” Rhys laughs.
“It’s all relative,” Beckett says with a smile.
“A lot of companies would like to be as small as you,” I say.
They both laugh.
“What about you, Rhys? Are you a musician?”
“I used to be a rapper. My stage name was Hijinks.”
“What does that mean?”
