scrolled through her mental Rolodex. The Accidental Olympian had been a steady performer since it had released. It had debuted at number three on its New York Times Bestsellers list and stayed on there for a couple of months before dropping away. It hadn’t made a resurgence in her absence. She’d checked all the bestseller lists while her hairdresser spent two hours depoofing her hair.
“I wanted to say thank you. For all the work you did on the book.”
“I didn’t exactly do it for free.” She smiled at him to soften the words.
Beckett stepped into her office, then stepped back. “Sorry, I should have asked. Do you have something else you need to be doing right now?”
“I have a few minutes.” She’d told Janna to keep her calendar clear for the morning so she could get on top of everything. Her estimation of Beckett went up a notch. Most clients, especially the men, would never have asked. They simply assumed she had nothing more important to do.
She gestured to the seat in front of her desk. “Come on in.”
He placed the bottle and box on her desk, along with an envelope.
Lacey leaned back in her chair. The envelope was cream and clearly expensive. She’d seen a lot of them in her career. Funny how the first thing people thought she would like was a spa voucher. Not that she minded. She hadn’t paid for a beauty treatment in about five years as a result. But it was predictable. Victor would never give her a spa voucher. She squashed the unwelcome thought flat.
“It’s not a spa voucher.”
Lacey looked up to see Beckett’s dark eyes studying her. The question must have been written on her face because he shrugged. “I was here one day when some other client gave you one. From the look on your face, it looked like it was hardly a surprise.”
“So, what is it?” Lacey picked up the envelope and tapped it against her desk. She couldn’t help but be a bit intrigued.
“Why don’t you open it and find out?” Beckett shifted in his chair, running his hand through his dark brown hair.
Lacey squinted at him as she slid her finger under the seal of the flap. Reaching inside, she pulled out two premium tickets to The Book of Mormon. For that night.
“You mentioned you’d never seen it.”
If she had, it had only been in passing. She looked down at the tickets in her hand. They’d been purchased three months before.
Two tickets. For tonight. And Beckett was sitting right in front of her, his face crinkled in what looked like half apprehension, half hope.
Oh, man. This happened every now and then. Even though she made it clear that she did not date her clients. Ever.
Most of the time, if she did her job well, it was only a matter of weeks before any single male clients had more than enough admirers that any thoughts they’d had in her direction moved on.
But every now and then … “Beck,” she kept her voice gentle. “You remember that I can’t date my clients, right?”
Hopefully, he would say she’d misunderstood, that the ticket was for her to take a friend. Something that would allow him to salvage some pride.
He offered her a lopsided smile. “I’m not your client any more. My contract with Langham ended on Friday.”
Oh.
“I’m sorry. You’re right. It was a stupid idea.” Beckett was on his feet, his ears tipped pink. “My mom, she always told me to go for the woman who knows what she wants and is her own success. I’ve admired your drive and determination ever since we first met.”
Lacey’s brain processed the words that weren’t in that sentence. Beautiful. Hot. Sexy. When was the last time she’d been asked out by a guy that didn’t involve some kind of allusion to what she looked like? “You’re not my client any more.” It was half statement, half question.
Beckett stilled. “I’m not.”
She had never thought of him that way. She had trained herself to never think of any client that way. A couple of mistakes early in her career had drilled in the necessity of putting an iron wall between her and the men she worked with.
Beckett stood, waiting as Lacey sifted through her impressions of him. He’d only ever treated her with respect. She’d never had to pour him into a limo drunk after an event. Never had to try and clean up any kind of publicity mess because of his bad behavior. Everyone at his