shifted on his feet but looked him in the eye.
“Can you thank your friend for us? For letting us know?”
Victor just blinked at him. Granted, Peter wasn’t thanking him for anything. But it was at least a grudging acknowledgement that Victor might have done something good.
Maybe miracles were still possible.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
There had been flowers waiting for Lacey at the office when she’d gotten in after her breakfast with Rachel, and another bunch this morning. Big luscious pastel-pink peonies with the distinct styling of one of New York’s premier florists. If she’d had any doubts about dinner, there were no doubts now.
They’d arranged to meet at her favorite Italian restaurant. Beck had shown up all sportsman-style casual, dropped a kiss on her cheek, complimented her dress, and pulled out her chair. It was like a date from the fifties.
Menus perused and food and drinks ordered, Lacey leaned back in her seat and let the background jazz wash over her. Beck smiled at her over the flickering tea lights in the middle of their table. It didn’t twist up her insides like a pretzel, but it was nice. “How—”
“Excuse me.” A gorgeous barely-legal redhead poured into her jumpsuit stood by their table. “Are you Beckett Hodge?”
Beck’s eyes flickered to Lacey and then back to the girl. “I am.”
“I’m a huge fan. Would you mind …” Before she even finished her question, the girl had her phone out in front of her and was leaning down, her fulsome breasts almost taking out the single rose on the side of their table. Lacey suppressed an eye roll.
“I’m sorry.” Beck put his hand up to block the shot. “I appreciate the compliment, but I’m on a date. And I’d like to focus on her.”
The girl froze, her face a caricature of disbelief. Lacey barely managed to keep her own jaw from unhinging. After a frozen second, the girl stood with a humph and flounced off.
Lacey took a sip of her water. “I’m pretty sure that has never happened to her before.”
Beck reached for his own glass. “Yeah, well, I’m not a big fan of being someone’s Instagram trophy. Especially when a second date with you is the only thing I’ve been thinking about since the first one.” He gave her a wink, and she couldn’t help but smile in response.
Beck was a gentleman. Beck was here. Beck sent flowers, and his hand hadn’t so much as grazed her behind. Ever. Which was more than she could say for almost every other date she’d been on in the last decade. Most importantly of all, Beck wasn’t an employee of either Langham or Wyndham.
She hadn’t had any contact with Victor since he’d returned to London. Which was exactly as it should be. Although that wouldn’t help her in a week when she’d have to face him in front of an altar as her cousin pledged herself to his brother.
Victor Carlisle in a suit had been irresistible once before. And that was when he’d been the worst version of himself.
“I heard Langham is being merged. What does that mean for you?” Beck took a piece of bread from the basket and broke it in half.
Lacey forced herself back to the man sitting across from her. “Not sure yet. Still waiting to see how the cards are going to fall.”
She’d been working long hours on all her upcoming releases since the gala. A lot more than she was billing for. Between Minnesota and the Met debacle, she was pinning everything on the books she had releasing in the next few weeks doing better than expected.
The extra work had paid dividends, but it had also meant a lot of groveling to her cousin as the week she’d planned to be in Oxford for the wedding had been reduced to a long weekend.
Emelia had been more understanding than Lacey had expected. Which made her feel even more guilty about the fact that she’d been half-relieved for a reason to cut her trip short. The less time she spent in the orbit of a certain charming Brit, the better.
“You have nothing to worry about. You’re brilliant at what you do.”
Focus, Lacey. Back to Beck. Back to the handsome, attentive, charming man seated mere inches away, not oceans. “Thanks.” Even though the merger absorbed most of her thoughts, she felt no desire to talk about it with Beck. She wanted to talk to the man taking up way more real estate in her head than she’d ever given permission for.
She reached for her