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“Let me guess,” he says. “You went. You saw. You considered your options. Since I’m also a member and until recently, I know what it’s like to be on the prowl at the club, I’m willing to bet there was a bevy of tempting women, all vying for your attention… but none of them were Arianne.”
“Fucker,” I say under my breath. “Aren’t you supposed to be in my corner?”
“Please,” he says. “You’re way too intelligent to need my help finding a solution to your fictitious problem. I suspect you already know what you want to do. The question is, do you have the balls to do it or not?”
Chapter 39
Arianne
I tossed 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 really early, I decided to get dressed and head 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.
I didn’t hear from Beckett all day 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 step 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 absolutely 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 tell her.
“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 just 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 entire 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 Arianne-time.”
“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’s already pulling me by the arm.
