Sultry in Stilettos

by Nana Malone

  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."

  “Shoot, I wish she had gotten him to come looking for me. Shirtless would have been preferable.”

  “That’s ’cause you think he looks like that werewolf from that vampire show.”

  “You got a point?” Ricca drew in a deep breath as she waited in line for her coffee. “So um, did you talk to Beckett this weekend?”

  “No, why?”

  “He didn’t say anything to you about Friday night?”

  Jaya was silent for a beat. “Something happen I don’t know about?”

  Ricca struggled with what to tell her friend. Normally, she told Jaya everything, but what was she going to say this time? Jaya and Micha were already worried enough about her with the whole Charles thing. She didn’t want to add the Beckett situation. Lest they fit her for a snug white jacket.

  “No, he called a couple of times too yesterday, and he’s been hovering over me all day today.” Beckett and Jaya were close, yet he hadn’t mentioned the kiss, nor had he told her about Friday. He’s protecting me. Just like always. Moments like this made her think he’d be great in a relationship. But then she remembered his model-dating, man-whore ways, and it brought her back to reality again.

  “Well, he’s a little over protective. You know how he is.”

  “Yeah, I got that.” Ricca sighed. "You know how they say, when it rains it pours?"

  "Shit, what the hell else happened?"

  "So I’m on coffee duty for Beckett today, and I get into the elevator as usual, and there’s Angel."

  "That crazy bitch from your office?"

  "That’s the one, and she starts teasing me about being dumped."

  "You know what, normally I'm not one for killing people, but maybe Micha is right about this one."

  Ricca continued as if she hadn’t heard her. "And there’s this other woman in there who overhears everything. All the while I'm thinking, she's this mousy plain girl. Turns out she's a potential client."

  "Shit. Did you say anything damaging?"

  "Nothing too bad, I don’t think, but God…It could have been so much worse. She was actually the one who called Angel a bitch."

  Jaya chuckled. "I like her already."

  "Yeah, me too. Her husband is one hottie Mcbillionaire."

  Jaya gasped. "You mean Alec already has a wife?"

  "It's not nice to brag about your good fortune." Ricca snickered.

  “Chill, I’m only teasing."

  "Well, might not happen anyway, given that Serena was flirting with the guy. I’m not holding my breath that I’ll get her as a client.” Ricca paid for the coffee and tucked her change purse into the pocked of her jacket. Walking briskly back to the office she added, "You should see this guy, honestly. I'd be freaked to be with someone that good looking."

  Jaya chuckled. "It does have some perks."

  "Again with the bragging."

  "Again, joking—mostly."

  "I get it. I get it. You’re in luuurrrvvv. You still need me tomorrow for my bridesmaid fitting?"

  "Yep. I’m bringing the shoes too. I think it’s time I handed those off. You never know when you're going to get lucky."

  Ricca had to smile. If Jaya thought those ridiculously expensive Louboutins would change her life, who was she to argue?

  When Ricca returned to the office, she was corralled into the conference room with the rest of the team for an impromptu meeting. The way this day was going, she’d be lucky if she even made it through half her calls before close of business. Some of her vendors wouldn’t be too pleased to get calls after closing hours, but she brought enough business their way to soften the intrusion. Unfortunately, this meant a late night for her tonight. Though it wasn’t like she would be doing anything else besides flipping back and forth between the Lakers’ game and Scandal. She had to get a life, pronto. Either that or a cat.

  She tapped her foot in rapid rhythm as she leaned up against the wall in the back of the conference room, waiting for Serena to start. Beckett leaned back in one of the chairs, looking cool as ever. His pale blue, Marc Jacobs sweater made his eyes stand out even more than usual. Even just slouching in his seat, he could have been modeling a campaign for that sweater.

  The rest of the room was busy gossiping about what Serena wanted to discuss, but not Beckett. He looked—bored. She’d never seen him in actual panic mode. Not once. Not ever. The only time she’d ever even seen him lose it was when he got into a fight with his brother—over her. Or rather what Braedon had done to her.

  Serena leaned her palms against the conference room table and surveyed the teams. Beckett's adventure team, of course, took longer to quiet down. Those guys had been going through sports options for the ideal fantasy. Some of the guys were pushing for a day with Beckham on the field. A few others were more into a baseball thing. No one mentioned basketball, and Beckett was in full-on pout.

  The women were even less successful, and Ricca could only roll her eyes. They'd been given a full list of the client’s likes and dislikes. On that list had been historical romances. It was a no brainer. Ricca's idea had been to go for something way over the top and put her in the fantasies as one of her heroines or something. A full-on, regency-type setting with picnic, ball—the whole nine. But she'd been shot down. Fair enough—Angel's funeral. Ricca could live with that.

  "If you guys are done now, I have an announcement to make.” Zach walked in and took position by his wife. Angel practically preened, and Ricca fought the urge to roll her eyes. The result was what felt like an eye tick.

  Zach interjected. "There’s been a change in plans. No longer will the two teams be working separately, but the loving couple has decided they want to do a joint fantasy. One that incorporates things they both like to do, with some singular elements too."

  Serena scowled at him. He'd stolen her thunder. And Serena did enjoy her moments of flourish. She stiffened her back. "There’s been another change as well. The Vice President position is still up for grabs, but we are changing leadership on the romance angle.” Ricca immediately stood straight and held her breath. What the what? Angel was no longer in charge? She had an overwhelming urge to dance, but even she knew better.

  "And before I get the angry pleading, the client requested these modifications. Ricca Munroe is now our Fantasy romance lead."

  Ricca's skin grew hot and prickly when the Bitch Brigade whipped their heads around to glare at her. She tilted her chin up and met Angel 's stare. She wasn't going to let boobs-too-big-for-my-blouse-Barbie intimidate her anymore.

  "Ricca, you and Bec
kett will have to come up with a theme and concept and present by Monday. Not much time, but that's what you have."

  The one thing Ricca wanted, handed to her on a silver platter. And she could prove finally that she was a risk taker. She could think out of the box. Now Serena had to consider her for the job.

  "Understood. We won’t let you down." Ricca hoped to God that was right. Her lower belly tingled when she glanced at Beckett, and she quelled them right away. No tingles. Tingles bad. Tingles meant she showed up on homeboy's doorstep with a fifth of Kentucky bourbon in her bloodstream.

  After several moments, she also realized what this meant—she and Beckett were now officially in the race for Vice President. Fantastic. Just what she needed. She had the hots for the competition.

  His voice was low when he turned around to whisper. "Congratulations. This doesn’t mean I’ll take it easy on you though. I intend on getting that VP job. So I'm sorry I'll have to beat you.”

  Her competitive nature piqued, and she had the irrational urge to both kiss him and stab him in the hand with her pen. Through a sickly sweet smile, she said, "Cocky. Just like an adventure jock. You’re going to have to learn some finesse, if we're going to work together."

  The room was silent, and Ricca looked up to find everyone staring at the two of them. She blushed. "Sorry."

  "If the two of you are done, I'd like to introduce to you the clients now. Roberto and Lila Serritti. Close personal friends of mine and Zachary’s."

  When the conference room door opened, Ricca gasped. In walked hottie McBillionaire from the lobby, and next to him, holding his hand, walked an almost too-thin woman with mousy brown hair and a terrific smile. Lila. Not just any client, but the biggest client of Ricca’s career. Holy hell.

  Chapter Six

  “Ricca, I’d like to speak to you in private please.”

  Ricca gazed at the conference room door longingly as everyone departed. She had a ton of work to do, but she also needed to call her girl-talk committee and tell them the news. They’d come up with a strategy to beat Beckett for sure. Either that, or they’d come up with a plan to dispose of his body.

  “What’s up, Serena? I need to—”

  Serena put up a hand. “Look, I know you were upset before about Angel having this fantasy. You’ve worked hard, and the VP job is something you’ve always wanted.”

  Ricca squared her shoulders. “I know you don’t think I can take risks. I only wanted the chance to prove you wrong. And I have that now. So I’ll take it and show you what I’m capable of.”

  Serena nodded as she studied Ricca. “If it were up to me, I would say that with a little seasoning and maturity, the job could be yours. Unfortunately, Zachary also thinks the job belongs to the Neanderthal.”

  Annoyance pricked Ricca’s nerve endings. Sure, she could call Beckett a Neanderthal, but no one else could. “He’s not a Neanderthal. I just—” She wasn’t great at tooting her own horn. “I’m just better qualified.”

  Serena’s smile was quick and elusive. “You won’t play dirty. I like that, but we’re going to need a plan for you to get this job, and we’re going to need one quick.”

  “You planning on giving me some insider information to help me win?” Serena had always been hard to read. Ricca liked her boss, but the two of them had never been chummy.

  “Something like that. Think of it as a little woman-to-woman advice.”

  Ricca raised an eyebrow. “Um, okay.”

  “You need to change your look.”

  Ricca recoiled—all her organs shrinking into tight little balls. All her life, she’d dealt with mean girls teasing her about her size, her height, her skin color. She didn’t need it from her boss. “I beg your pardon?” she mumbled through gritted teeth.

  Serena held up her hands. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that how it came out. I’m sorry.”

  Ricca relaxed by degrees.

  “But what I mean is, Beckett is Zachary’s pick. Angel was also Zachary’s pick for this fantasy. He thinks she looks the part, and he wants to impress Roberto and Lila. If I’d had my way, you’d be the one doing the job solo and having the promotion. You’re more experienced, you’re creative, and you never say die. But I’m not making the decision on my own. All hiring has to pass the board, and Zachary has a strong belief in Beckett. But I can help you win.”

  “B-but you said I’m not a risk taker,” Ricca muttered, confused.

  “You haven’t been. But you are creative and can problem-solve without going over the top. That’s the kind of person I want to grow the business. Not a cowboy.”

  Ricca bit her lip. Just once, she didn’t want to be the nice girl, the one worried about other people’s feelings. For once, she wanted to be the winner. “How do I win?”

  Serena let out a breath. “First of all, you need to start acting like you are ass bad. Beckett walks around here like he owns the joint. I need to see more of that in you. Not just the head down, getting your shit done kind of attitude, the making it look effortless attitude, but the I know I’m good attitude.”

  “You sound like a friend of mine.”

  “Your friend is right.”

  Ricca drew her brows in. “Wait, I thought you and Zach were supposed to be impartial.”

  Serena scoffed. “Are you kidding me? I’m Romanian. I thrive on competition. Besides, you’d be a fool to think Zachary isn’t prepping Beckett as we speak. So let’s hear it. How do you plan to outwit the competition?”

  Outwit the—well damn, she hadn’t thought about outwitting Beckett. “I, um—haven’t given it much thought.” Should she have been planning for this eventuality all along?

  Serena rolled her eyes. “God save me from stubborn, unprepared women. Look, you have to have an angle that makes you shine. You’re excellent at your job. Every T crossed and I dotted. But you have to have a way to shine. No one is going to be looking at best plan. You have to stand out.”

  Ricca eased herself back into the leather conference room chair. Expelling a long breath, she said, “I don’t have anything flashy yet, but I’ll figure something out.” She’d ask Micha. Micha was the queen of flash. There wasn’t anything she did that didn’t have a little sass and flare.

  Serena rolled her eyes and muttered something in a language Ricca could only assume was Romanian. “Okay, I’ll give you a head start. First things first, you need to learn to stand out. Stop looking so frumpy.”

  Pain zinged through Ricca’s chest, and her mind immediately swapped Serena’s thin blond frame, with Ricca’s mother’s short, rounded, dark-skinned one. Their words were the same in tone and hurt. “Th-there’s nothing wrong with how I dress. It’s professional,” she muttered weakly.

  Serena sighed. “No, you must not take it as something negative. You dress like you’re short and plump. Nothing to entice or distract. You need to start dressing like you’re confident in your body as a woman. Not only will it distract the hell out of your competition, but you’ll stand out in any room you walk into. No one will be able to ignore you or your work. If you fade into the background, the clients will never pay attention. Neither will Zach, and neither will Beckett. No matter how good a job you do.”

  All Ricca had heard was a terrific rendition of Charlie Brown’s teacher, “Wah wah wah. Short and Plump. Wah wah wah.” She tried to drag in bits of air through her swelling throat. When she spoke her voice was soft. “But I’m wearing Prada and Jimmy Choo. None of this stuff is understated.” She indicated her jade green flats.

  “The shoes might be Choo’s, and the dress might be Prada, but you’re buttoned up. You’re hiding underneath those layers. And, newsflash, those layers just make your curves look bulky. You’re not chubby, but you’d rather everyone believe that so you can keep hiding.”

  Double ouch. Ricca looked down at herself. The dress was straight to the knee Prada with a deep V, but she’d put a cardigan over it and buttoned it to the top to conceal her double D’s. And when that cardigan still looked too b
ody-hugging, she’d added a bulky shawl. Why was it that the truth never came swathed in honey, but rather razor blades and thorns?

  Serena raised an eyebrow. “What I’m talking about is letting your hair loose instead of that tight bun all the time. I’m talking about trading those flats for stilettos. And yes, you’re wearing a Prada dress, but I own that dress. I know that it shows some cleavage. Do you want to explain why you’ve thrown that bulky shawl over such a beautiful garment?”

  Ricca’s skin grew hot and prickly. Tipping her chin up, she said, “The dress is a little indecent for work.”

  “That dress is fine for work. Did you see Cassandra last week with her strapless number? You need to liven things up a little. Stop trying to hide yourself and start standing out with all of you, like you do with your work. Matter of fact, take the rest of the day to do that.”

  Ricca’s jaw clicked, and she reminded herself that only with calm did she keep from killing anyone. With three slow breaths, she released the tension in her jaw.

  “Serena, look. Um, I appreciate all the help you’re trying to give me, but I want to be noticed on my merits.” She’d never thought dressing for success meant showing her, erm, assets. Since she’d sprouted breasts at the age of ten, her body had been a matter of fascination from the opposite sex and a matter of ridicule from other women. She’d been called chubby all her life. Sure, her waist might be small and her belly flat, but all anyone could see were her more than ample curves. It had been easier to cover them up.

  She certainly didn’t need to be called plump by her own boss. Nor did she need to be told how to do her job and get the recognition she deserved.

  Serena sighed. “Suit yourself. I’m only trying to give you an edge. In the world we work in, beauty and fantasy and sex are what we sell. You do great work, but people like my husband will always see you as the kind of mousy girl who works really hard. He’ll never pay attention to the fact that you’re the one who’s brought in and secured over fifty percent of the profit from the Romance Fantasy side. He won’t remember that this client chose you specifically. He will always look you over for someone flashier, like your boyfriend.”