Lacey sat, mooning over her coffee, safely ensconced in Erin’s bright kitchen. It’d been three days since she’d seen Dante, but it already felt like a lifetime.
“So what are you going to do?” Erin asked again, settling in beside her. She’d asked that question every morning since Lacey had returned, even though the answer still hadn’t changed.
“I really don’t know.” Lacey smiled ruefully. But she could finally talk about it now, and she pushed on for the first time. “Everything I’ve done up to this point was to get the internship or get the job or get the chance, and I was working so hard for that perfect break, I didn’t think any further beyond it. And now it’s happened, right out of the gate.” She raised her mug. “Only, I don’t have a job anymore.”
“Not at your current employer, maybe,” Erin raised her mug in return. “But that’s about the only place in town. If I have to field one more call on your behalf in the wake of the PR blitz of the century, I’m going to demand my own salary.”
“Yeah.” Lacey shook her head. It was Monday morning at nine A.M. Normal people were at work, including Anna, who’d been Lacey’s number one cheerleader the entire weekend, mapping out the pros and cons of taking jobs with the biggest names in the entertainment biz. Not-so-normal people—like Dani—were out running through the streets of Boston, causing havoc of the not-quite-criminal-but-close kind. So that left an artist and an in-between-gigs junior entertainment exec to figure out next steps over coffee and scones. “IMO has been completely silent, but everything there has to be over other than the paperwork.”
“I still don’t think they’re going to let you go,” Erin said, shaking her head. “The news agencies were full of your ‘wealth of opportunity.’ ”
“They kind of have to, I think.” Lacey took a long sip of coffee, reveling in the heat of it. Simple pleasures were always the best. “I did break every rule in the IMO playbook, even if it turned out to end well. And it’s been three days. Three days of absolute silence—not a text, not a phone call, nothing.”
“Maybe they’re watching the Internet.” Erin grinned at her. “You blew it up for most of the weekend. The webisode series is being hailed as an advertising model for the future, even if Brenda did try to take the credit for its success.”
“Well, the webisodes were her original idea.”
“Yeah, but you made them great,” Erin said staunchly. “And Dante’s had nothing but good things to say about you.”
“Yeah …” Lacey still had a hard time believing she’d pulled it off. It was nearly—almost—the perfect story. She’d spilled every detail (well, mostly) of the last few weeks to her eager brownstone mates, and just remembering the entire odyssey should’ve been enough for her. Would be enough for her. Needed to be enough for her. In fact, the only scratch in her glass slipper was that Dante wouldn’t be around to be her Prince Charming. She didn’t need him to be, of course, she reminded herself for the millionth time. She could be Cinderella all on her own. But still … “He’s been the soul of grace through all of this.”
And he had been. Up to and including getting them both back to the hotel discreetly, at the end of their impromptu bus tour. They’d left the bus for a waiting limo at some wee hour of the morning, which had then whisked them back to Dante’s gorgeous presidential suite. With all of the YouTube cameras packed up, they could finally spend a relaxing night in a real bed, and they’d luxuriated in it, neither of them talking of the future, because of course there was no future to discuss.
She’d woken up in his bed hours later, alone, and all of a sudden she’d felt like she’d felt that first morning, after he’d assured Harry that nothing would ever happen between them. And nothing really had, after all. She wasn’t a groupie, and she wasn’t an idiot. She didn’t want to be the one responsible for ruining the perfect fantasy. So she’d drafted a brief note to Dante on the hotel notepad, slipped out the door, and headed back to her own room.
Dante hadn’t tried to stop her. He hadn’t called or texted. And, she realized hours later, they hadn’t even kissed goodbye.
Lacey didn’t want to think about how much that hurt. This was her time to shine in the sun, and she didn’t need to be hauling around her own shadows and spoiling it all.
Still, she would treasure everything she’d experienced over the past few weeks for more than just the career boost it had turned out to be. She would treasure the Dante part of it, too. Her secret fantasies come true, giving her enough memories for a lifetime. It was enough. Her future was set, the world was hers. She hadn’t exactly made it, but she was on her way.
And she was going to find a way to make all of that matter—right after her next cup of coffee. And maybe after a few more tears.
Her phone buzzed to life on the table. Lacey eyed it with surprise when she saw it was a text from IMO.
“Another job offer?” Erin piped up, her eyebrows lifted high as she looked pointedly from the phone to Lacey. To her credit, she didn’t leap across the room and grab up the phone herself. She wasn’t Anna, after all. The thought brought a smile to Lacey’s face, no matter how rueful.
“Not exactly,” Lacey said. “More like an offer being rescinded. It’s IMO, apparently ready to fire me at long last. This still isn’t going to be fun.” She thumbed open her phone, read the terse words: 10 A.M., conference room B. “Here we go.” She keyed back for them to make it eleven—she would never make it there in an hour, and she hadn’t even showered in two days, let alone gotten out of her pajamas. They could wait on her.
“You don’t know that,” Erin said, ever positive. “They could be preparing to offer you the corner office.”
Lacey snorted but gathered up her coffee mug. If she was going to get her own ass handed to her, corporately speaking, she at least was going to be well caffeinated with the best java in Boston. “I’ll keep you posted on that.”
“You can’t tell me we can’t move faster than this,” Dante said, the first edge of his irritation showing through. From the severe look the other passenger in his limo was giving him, maybe it hadn’t been the very first edge. But still. He was being remarkably patient for not having slept in something like seventy-two hours. There’d been an insane round of publicity touring to do after the Dream It tour had wrapped, and every moment had seemed incredibly harder than it had needed to be without Lacey there. He’d called the agency, but they’d confirmed that her role with him had ended with the tour. The team of handlers IMO had assigned him were better equipped to handle media than Lacey.
They’d had a long conversation about exactly what their plans were for Lacey, and Dante had resolved to let it go. She’d been very clear in her note to him. Sweet, professional, but firm. They were over. She had everything in the world waiting for her, and she deserved for him to honor her wishes.
And yet …
“Are you going to stop drumming your fingers or am I going to have to kill you?” Harry growled. “Never did like Boston.”
Now that was a sentiment that Dante could understand. They were navigating their way through an unusually clogged downtown—well, unusual to him—but he never had noticed such things before. He got places when he got places.
But this time … “We’re almost an hour late,” he muttered.
“And now we’re here.” Boston was unusually hot and sticky this June morning, but to hear Harry talk, that was only to be expected in a city where so many uptight people were crammed together in such a small space. His manager seemed ratcheted up with stress the closer they got to this meeting, but Dante couldn’t blame him. Change was hard. He’d get over it.
They rode up the pristine elevator in silence, but when they walked into the offices of IMO Entertainment, chaos ruled.
“What do you mean you’re not going to fire her?!” was the first thing that Dante heard, and he grinned. He’d really missed Brenda. He followed the noise to the conference room, leaving Harry to deal with the receptionist, and leaned against the doorframe, drinking in the sight.
Brenda was at her savage best, in a whip-tight black suit, stiletto heels, and flame-red lips. She was pointing alternately between Jim and Lacey. Jim looked serene. Lacey looked … bemused.
She looked more than that, actually. Where Brenda was all sharp angles and razor-thin edges, Lacey seemed … softer to him. She dressed in a clingy knit dress that accentuated her curves, a deep pink that seemed more feminine than anything he’d ever recalled her wearing. She looked fresher for her weekend away. For the first time this morning, he began to doubt himself. Maybe this wouldn’t work after all—maybe it wouldn’t be the right thing for Lacey. Maybe she was happier where she was, doing what she loved to do.
“She has brought nothing but shame and notoriety to our firm!” Brenda seethed. Then Jim did put out a hand.
“Notoriety, certainly. Shame, well. It depends on how you look at it,” he said. “I’ve gotten no less than a dozen texts and emails from happy corporate sponsors. A half dozen more from potential sponsors looking for the opportunity to come up with a similarly fresh idea for their corporate brands. I’ve had a few direct requests for Lacey to be on the account. And don’t even talk to me about the firms who’ve contacted me trying to hire her away.”
“Lacey!” Brenda sputtered. “But I put together those deals!”
“And she executed them.” Jim nodded. “With flair and innovation. Together, I’d say you made a powerful team.”
That brought both women’s heads up, and Jim held up his hands to ward off the twin storms heading his way. “Not that I’d have you work together again, of course. You both should have the opportunity to develop your own accounts.”
“She is—was—a junior agent!” Brenda fisted her hands against her boney hips. “She should not get a promotion over this. She should barely keep her job.”
A promotion as well. Dante frowned, another chip in his confidence giving way. Lacey would have the opportunity to work with the hottest celebrities and stars in sports and entertainment. That would allow her to be creative, to pursue her dreams in a career that was constantly changing. Maybe she would like that better after all. Maybe she—
“Lacey has put herself in a position to make her own choices,” Jim’s words overrode Brenda’s diatribe. He turned to the front of the door, his grin widening in welcome and maybe a little relief as he spied Dante leaning there. “Ah yes, Dante—I was hoping you’d be here.”
But Dante wasn’t looking at Jim—or even at Brenda, who was trying and failing to rein herself back in. He was looking at Lacey.
And Lacey was looking back at him, as if he was her whole world.
Or maybe this will work after all …
“Can I see you for a moment, Lacey?” Dante asked. “Privately?”
“Why?!” Brenda wailed, but Dante was already pulling Lacey out of the room. They entered another conference room, Lacey shutting the door behind her, but suddenly she wasn’t looking at him, her teeth clamped on her lower lip, her jaw faintly trembling. He picked up her hand, holding it tight, though she made no move to pull away. Finally, she lifted her gaze to his. That was good, right? That she let him hold her hand?
He realized he was staring at her, when she squeezed his hand a little. “Dante?” she asked, worry for him suddenly overriding her own distress. “Are you okay? Is everything all right?”
“It’s great, it’s good. It’s perfect,” he said, wincing as the words came out too rushed, too clipped. “Lacey, I want …” He should do this slowly, he thought. More professionally. But she was here and he was here and the moment seemed to be slipping away from him, stolen by promotions and corner offices. It was now or never. He smiled and held her gaze. “I’d like you to be my manager, Lacey.”
“Dante—”
“I know you have other options,” he said, cutting her off. “I know you could do whatever you want to do. Follow your dreams, be your own person. But I—I want you to be with me.”
Lacey’s eyes widened, and he hurried on, not wanting to say the wrong thing. “I want you involved in every step of my career. To be there to champion me when I have dreams that should come true, to pursue your dreams so I can watch you make them come true. That’s important. I need that. I just …” He shrugged. “I need you.” When she smiled, he fought the kick of emotion, forced himself not to look away. Her gaze seemed darker now, shinier. “Will you consider it?”
Lacey was shaking her head, though, causing his heart to go tight and hard in his chest. “But Dante, I don’t know anything about—”
“You know me,” Dante said, shaking his head. He tightened his hand on hers. “You know me.”
Lacey blinked at him, stunned when he named an astronomical figure for her salary. It was more than what the other entertainment houses were offering to pay her, and it came with one life-size perk none of them could hope to have.
“You really want me to be your manager?” she asked. She couldn’t—could she? She could, she realized. She had the skills; she had the passion. She had this incredible man in front of her. Wanting her to succeed, believing in her. Wanting her as part of his team.
Dante’s smile was a little crooked now. “I want you in my life, Lacey, however I can get you. To make all of this just … worth it.” He swallowed. “And I want you to listen to music again. Not just mine, but everything. Everywhere. Wherever your heart wants you to go.”
Somewhere deep inside her, the tweenage Lacey swooned, but the rest of her had sort of stopped listening after his first sentence. “Your life?” she whispered.
And then he stopped, too, his eyes going wide. “You really don’t get it, do you?” he asked. “Lacey, I’ve spent a lot of years trying to keep the world safely on the outside. Knowing that I could have anything I wanted—but not everything I wanted. I couldn’t fall in love. I couldn’t trust anyone that far, or expect them to be real. It just wasn’t worth it. They always let me down.” He smiled at her, and she struggled to find words. Struggled—and failed.
Which was okay, because Dante had more to say.
“But then there was you. And you never let me down. Since the first time you decided I was special, that I deserved your time—you never wavered. Even when I didn’t know you, you had enough force of will for both of us.” He smiled, and the intensity of that smile went right through her. “But I do know you now. And I have a lot of force of will myself. I’ve finally found someone I can love with my whole heart … and that’s you, Lacey. I love you.”
“Dante—,” Lacey began, and she could see the alarm in his eyes, the worry over what she would say. Is he insane?
“Would you come spend time with me—work with me, be with me, Lacey? Try us out?” Dante scrubbed his hand through his hair, making it stand on end. “Try this out?”
“Yes,” Lacey said. “Yes, Dante, I’ll do it. For you, for us, for this, for everything.” She blinked her eyes furiously, but something was in them again, and her voice sounded crumbly, all rough and wobbly, not like her voice at all. In front of a dozen mirrors in over a thousand fantasies, she’d always imagined what she would say to Dante Falcone. But now that the moment was in front of her, the words were all different—because she was different. She wasn’t giving voice to some random wondering dream, but to a promise made between two people willing to give life a try. “I will help you find your way to whoever you want to be, I’ll be there for you every moment.”
“For us, not just for me,” Dante said, and he was closer now, leaning in to brush his lips against hers. “I want your dreams to come true, too.”
“They will; they have,” Lacey whispered, and she saw the future now in Dante’s eyes, the future she’d only glimpsed of the two of them together. A future that against all rational odds was actually happening. “Sooner or later, they always do.”
Funny thing how dreams work, Lacey thought, as Dante pulled her tightly to him, in an embrace that proclaimed that the time for fantasies was over—and the time for real life was here. If only you can dream it, it might just come true.