Hell on Heels(33)

Maverick had not been easy once in the three times I’d met him.

Well, the three times I was aware of, anyway.

“Shall we?” Beau took my hand in his.

The spell I felt I was under died when he touched me.

Good.

Maverick and the other man, whose name I still did not know, led us out what I guessed to be a service entrance to the idling town car.

The other man got inside the passenger seat next to the driver. At least that was one man I knew had been there tonight.

Beau opened the door and helped me inside before rounding the trunk and settling in beside me.

I listened while Maverick instructed the driver to make no stops between here and my home. He also told the driver that the other man, whose name I now learned was Jason, would be riding with “just in case.”

I didn’t like the sound of just in case.

The car began to move, and I looked over my shoulder and out the back window, watching as Maverick disappeared behind our taillights.

We drove in silent contemplation on the quick route to my apartment, my head on Beau’s shoulder and our fingers intertwined. It was almost as if we’d ended many nights together before this one, sans the rush of danger, of course.

There was a comfort in the way our bodies fell together and his mind accepted mine.

It didn’t take but a few minutes at this time of night for us to arrive at my building. The evening had been a wonderful stir of excitement, but the last ten minutes, resting in the backseat of the car, had been my favourite by far.

“This is nice,” I whispered into his neck, and felt him smile.

Beau kissed my temple. “So nice,” he agreed.

The driver opened my door, but Beau insisted on getting out of the car anyways. He laughed when I took off my shoes and held them in one hand, his hand holding the other.

“Goodnight, Charleston.” He did that twirl thing again and kissed the top of my hand.

I stepped up onto a stair. “Goodnight, Beau.”

He stood at the bottom of the steps as I climbed, our hands eventually falling apart.

I was almost to the top when he called after me, “Wait!”

His dress shoes hit the pavement as he ran up the stairs, and I laughed at the goofy smile on his handsome face.

“What?” I asked, shaking my head.

Reaching me, he slid an arm around my waist. “I forgot something,” he declared, then he dipped me low and expertly, like the country club son he was, and his lips took mine.

It was beautiful.

My hands slid around his neck and I closed my eyes, savouring every single second.

It was slow and the way every woman dreamed of being kissed at least once in her lifetime.

It was like there wasn’t a thing on this earth more important to him in that moment than the way my lips felt on his, like I was being worshiped.

But that was Beau.

He was a stolen moment. The kind people knew of, but took for granted anyway.

He was the perfect gentleman, and the high in me became lighter.

Kissing Beau Callaway was like laying in bed listening to the rain on a Sunday morning.

It was peaceful.





“This isn’t going to work.” I looked up at Tom, whose frustration equally, if not more so, matched mine.

He nodded. “I could have made the changes last week if they’d asked, but now we aren’t far enough out to get the new materials in time, let alone have it put together.”

We were in his office, looking at the new stage layout for the Weizmann fundraiser. The CEO had decided he wanted a circular stage as opposed to that of the original rectangular one we’d discussed and had built specifically for the event, in which he wanted to host at his ski lodge.

I had an idea. “What if we—”

My sentence was stopped short when a breathless Kevin appeared in the doorway. “You’re going to want to see this,” he practically shouted into Tom’s office.

I looked from Tom to Kevin and back again, somewhat amused, somewhat concerned. “See what?”

“Come on!” He grabbed my hand, pulling me up from where I’d been sitting on the corner of Tom’s desk and dragging me behind him.

“What has gotten into you?” I scolded his odd behaviour, which for Kevin was saying something.

“Just wait.” He shushed me, actually shushed me. “That man, I just…” Now he was talking to himself and not me; however, I was still no less confused on the urgency in which we moved. It was as if the building were on fire.

Kevin dragged me to his desk and I pulled my hand from his grasp. “Seriously, what the…”

He smiled as familiar music started playing.

“Now I’ve had the time of my life…”

My head swung from Kevin to the singing that had begun in the waiting area.

No.

“And I owe it all to you…”

The cast of last night’s show was in our tiny office and they’d begun to perform, singing and dancing in the middle of chairs and ottomans like there was nothing abnormal about their presence there.

My eyes flew back to Kevin and found he was no longer paying attention to me. He was singing along and smiling like a loon, clearly enjoying the workday’s interruption.

Their voices carried loud in the small space, and I could do nothing but watch in awe and a tiny amount of embarrassment as they performed the final scene to the iconic movie that I, and nearly every woman, loved.