Sultry in Stilettos (6 page)

It had never been about the money for
Beckett. He didn’t need that trust fund. Well, that wasn’t entirely
true, but he certainly wasn’t going to beg for it. He knew that
restoring that old gym would make a difference in the community and
give other kids like him an opportunity to train and maybe hide out
for a few hours doing something they were good at. Everyone needed
a safe haven where they were free from people’s judgments or
disapproving glares.

Besides, Dear Old Dad had never
supported him in anything. He’d never been to a single swim meet,
not even the Olympic Trials. Once Beckett had chosen swimming over
football, that was it for his father. Disappointment number one in
a long line of disappointments. And his father had made it a point
to tell Beckett how deficient he was at every turn. When his mother
had still been alive, it was easier. She’d made up for the old man
wherever she could.

Braedon sighed. “Okay, fine. Let me
know when you’ve drafted the new proposal. I’ll contact your
assistant for your schedule.” His brother paused before adding.
“So, uh, how is Ricca? She doing okay?”

A fist of dread squeezed around
Beckett’s heart. He still hadn’t told Braedon about the kiss at the
Gala. “Yeah, you know. She’s good.” There, nice and
evasive.

“She still dating that
asshole?”

Braedon had never gotten over her,
despite the fact that he’d been the one to cheat on her. He’d
always described his cheating as just a little something he’d
needed on the side. But like their father, Braedon liked the
ladies. His cheating had been more than one
indiscretion.

Ricca knew about the one incident but
not about the rest. It had killed Beckett not to tell her, but
Braedon was his brother. What the hell was he supposed to say?
“Hey, my brother was a serial cheating asshole.” The day he’d found
out what happened, Beckett had almost killed Braedon for hurting
Ricca like that. For being so callous. But despite what had
happened, Braedon always asked about her.

“Actually, they broke up.”

Braedon was silent for two
heartbeats.

“Maybe I should call her. Say hi or
something.”

Red hot fury made Beckett’s skin
prickle. “No.” He tempered his tone. “Not a good idea. She still
hates you.”

“C’mon, man, I thought you were going
to put a good word in for me. Tell her I’m reformed or
something.”

“Are you?”

“Depends on if she’s still vanilla or
not. You know, I’m surprised—she’s from the islands. I thought
she’d be spicier. But—”

“I’m hanging up now.” Beckett ground
out as he put the phone down. Sometimes his brother was such an
asshole.

One thing was certain. He would rather
cut off his favorite appendage than put in a good word for
Braedon.

As nightmares went, Ricca was stuck in
a total screamer. The first planning meeting of the Master Fantasy
package was going exactly as she’d expected—like a tornado had just
landed in downtown San Diego. Combine that with her killer
headache, and Ricca was seriously considering death. Combine that
with the gaps in her memory of Saturday night, and she was in no
mood.

The real fun started when Angel looked
at the rest of the brigade and said, "Okay, what says
romance?"

Ricca shifted uncomfortably in her
seat. If her name was going to be attached to this thing, she
wanted it to go well. But at the same time, she wanted to have some
fun watching Angel and crew stumble around in the dark. For now,
she’d just forge on and clamp her mouth shut. Even if she did offer
up suggestions, the Bitch Brigade would shoot them down, then use
them as their own ideas later. Best to just let them get there on
their own. Still, she itched to tell them how it was
done.

Next to her, she could feel
Beckett's heat with every swivel of his chair and every brush of
his arm. He was there, in her face. Closing her eyes, she tried to
steady her heart rate, but instead, an image of Beckett peeling off
her underwear flashed in her memory.
Oh
shit
. Her eyes snapped to his.

His brows furrowed in confusion.
“What?” he mouthed.

She shook her head. Maybe she was
imagining the whole thing. Except—the image flashed again, and this
time, she noticed her cookie monster pajamas on the floor of her
bathroom. Shit, what the hell had she done?

In quick succession, the
memories of the other night flooded her brain, and her stomach
rolled. Her botched attempt at getting Beckett to admit why he’d
kissed her. His refusal. Her throwing up all over the both of
them.
Oh God
.
Ricca’s breath hitched, and no matter what she tried, she couldn’t
get enough air into her lungs.

Beckett nudged her chair and
whispered. “Hey, you okay? You look a little green.”

Frantically, she nodded her head. This
was so totally worse than when Beckett had picked her up off the
floor after Braedon told her he’d cheated on her.

Beckett had beaten Braedon to a pulp
that night. His own brother, and he’d beat the crap out of him.
Then he’d taken care of her along with Micha and Jaya. Between the
three of them, they’d made sure she didn’t drown herself in cookies
and cream. Now this. Like a gentleman, he hadn’t said
anything.

She dropped her forehead
into her hand. What the hell had possessed her to go over to his
place in the middle of the night? Oh yeah—half a bottle of bourbon
and the need to know why he’d kissed her.
Oh. Fuck. Me
.

With every near brush of contact with
Beckett, she relived kissing him at the Gala and replayed Friday
night. As torture went, it was all kinds of effective. Why now,
after all these years, were her feelings coming back up? Talk about
all kinds of inconvenient. Confusion wove its way through the
desire and embarrassment, making for a slinky fabric she didn’t
like to wear out in public.

She nearly jumped up out of her seat
when Beckett muttered, "We're doomed."

She kept her eyes on her
notebook and wrote a little message in the corner.
Tell me about it.

She felt, rather than saw,
him nod as he scribbled on his notepad.
I'm going to talk to Serena. This is a little
ridiculous.

Don't bother. She won’t
change her mind.

We have to try. If I’m
hitching my train to Angel's wagon, I want to make sure the thing
is structurally sound.

We both know it's
not.
Then, feeling vindictive, Ricca
scribbled on her notepad again.
What says
romance?

Beckett muffled a choked laugh, and
she bit back a grin. Maybe, just maybe, things were getting sort of
back to normal.

After an hour listening to Angel,
Emily, and Megan fumble around what to do as heads of a fantasy
plan, Ricca and Beckett made their escape. Automatically, she
turned to Beckett. "Coffee run—rock, paper, scissors?"

In a move practiced over
years of friendship and working together, he put out his right
palm. His paper beat out her rock, so her turn. She hustled to the
elevator with a small crowd of employees. She needed fresh air to
think.
And
she
needed to find Micha and kill her for the bourbon
introduction.

Several people got out on the tenth
floor. A few more exited on the seventh. The hair on Ricca's neck
prickled in warning. Like someone was staring at her. One more
person got out on five. Unable to keep still, she glanced around
the elevator.

An impeccably dressed woman
in her mid-to-late twenties stood silently behind her. Ricca
admired her put together look—starched, navy,
Diane Von Furstenberg
shirt-dress
and Stuart Wiseman ballet flats. She also had the latest Hermes bag
slung over her shoulder. Great outfit, if it had some color. Her
straight, light brown hair hung to her shoulders, and her face was
devoid of makeup. But she met Ricca’s gaze and smiled. The smile
transformed her face into something engaging, and Ricca had to
smile back.

A voice to her right startled Ricca.
"I'm surprised you’re in the mood to go for coffee breaks, given
what happened with Charles. You’re so brave, Ricca. I mean if my
boyfriend dumped me for a former model, I’d take to eating whole
cakes in my depression."

Ricca gritted her
teeth.
Angel
. She
should have waited for another elevator car.
Damn
. How the hell did Angel know
what happened with Charles?

“I mean, I saw your man yesterday in
Old Town with some slinky model. I think she’s VP at Ernst and
Young downtown. When did you guys break up, anyway?” Angel asked
with an evil gleam in her eye. “I could have sworn I saw you guys
together at the Westhorpe Gala.”

Ricca opened her mouth, and then
thought better of it. For now, she was stuck with Angel. And there
wasn’t much she could do about it. Angel was in essence her boss
for the duration of the project, so the way to deal was to bite her
tongue, 'cause she sure as shit couldn't find anything nice to
say.

All she could think to mutter was,
“His loss." Then she narrowed her eyes at Angel. "Are you okay? I
know how hard it is coming up with fresh ideas and angles with
everyone watching and judging you.” Angel wasn’t the only one who
could rattle cages.

Angel made a rapid exit on the second
floor.

"Is everyone really judging her?” The
thin brunette in the DVF dress asked.

Ricca smirked at the question. "Not
sure about everyone, but I certainly am."

The woman smiled again, showing off
perfect teeth. "Good for you. She was a real piece of
work."

"Yeah, tell me about it. I get to work
with that ball of sunshine every day."

They hit the bottom floor and exited.
"Sorry to hear." The brunette gave her a more somber smile. "About
your bitch of a co-worker and about the breakup."

Ricca shrugged it off. "Truth be told,
I was more pissed that he beat me to the punch."

"Ugh, isn't that the worst?" The woman
cocked her head and stuck out her hand. "By the way, I'm
Lila."

"Ricca. Are you new here?” Most of the
floors were occupied by Fantasies, but there were some smaller
businesses, and she'd seen just about everyone at least once or
twice before.

"Oh no. I had a client meeting. I’m
trying to surprise my husband.”

“Good surprise or bad?” There was a
divorce attorney on the floor right above Fantasies.

“Ha. Good. A crazy anniversary
gift."

“Well, if you’re looking for some good
ideas, you can check out Fantasies, Inc. upstairs. We specialize in
over the top fantasies and surprises.”

Lila smiled. “Oh, I was just up there!
But I’m not sure about budget. The blonde I met with wasn’t too
friendly.”

“I’m sorry about that. If you want to
come up at any time, I can walk you through some ideas to fit your
budget.”

Lila’s smile brightened. “You’d do
that?”

“Yeah. Why not?” She liked Lila. She
was kind and unassuming.

“Wow, thanks.”

Suddenly the brunette's
gaze shifted, and her brows furrowed. Ricca caught sight of Serena
talking to a man, who registered a ten on the drop-dead handsome,
knock-your-best-friend-out-of-the-way-so-you-can-have-him meter. He
was tall, like Beckett, but not as broad. By the way Serena was
touching him on the arm and gazing up at him, she was in full flirt
mode.
What the hell was going on
there?
Did Zach have some
competition?

Except the man wasn’t looking at
Serena. He was looking toward them.

“You spot Mr. Handsome-as-sin too,
huh?”

Lila nodded, her voice taking on a
breathy quality. “That’s my husband."

Ricca's jaw dropped.

"You should see your face." Lila
giggled. "I know we don’t exactly match. But I don't know; he's my
soul mate. I haven’t got a clue what he sees in me, but I adore
him.”

Ricca smiled at the obvious love in
Lila's voice. "It's your smile."

Lila blinked then flushed. "That’s
what he says." She grinned when her husband met her gaze and waved
her over. "It was nice to meet you, Ricca. Good luck with the evil
bitch extraordinaire and sorry about the ass-wipe that dumped you.
I think there’s something good coming around the corner for
you.”

"Thank you. It was nice to meet you
too."

Ricca made a quick exit out of the
building and immediately called Jaya. She answered on the first
ring. "Hangover that bad?"

Ricca frowned. "No. Yes, but not why
I’m calling. Beckett made me take two aspirin and Alka-Seltzer this
morning. I feel a little better. I mean, I’m not ready to run a
marathon, but then again, when am I ever?"

"That's good. Micha was worried after
we stopped by yesterday and you didn’t answer the door. She was
about to send out the dogs to come find you. Honestly, I think she
was a little disappointed that she didn’t have a legit excuse to go
over to Caleb's and get him out of bed."