THE NEXT two days passed in a daze. I’d gotten a taste and a touch of Beckett, and whenever I wasn’t occupied with something else, my mind returned to each moment, no matter how hazy. I received proofs of Beckett’s photographs, and they were amazing. Now that they were ready, I got on the phone and made some calls.
“Payton,” Gloria said as she knocked on my doorframe. “I have a lead for you. That young man you just signed… I think I have a deal that could include him. They need someone to play a love interest. They specified a man who is breathtakingly handsome. It goes without saying that he has to be able to act.” Gloria handed me a card. “A lot of people will be interested in the role because this could be a blockbuster. I told Julia that you’d call. That’s her number. Arrange it right away and cut everyone else off. They’re going to put the call out on Monday.”
I grinned, already dialing the number as I thanked her. “Julia, it’s Payton Gowan.”
Julia chuckled. “Gloria said you’d be calling. But I wasn’t expecting the call that fast. We thought we had the part cast but the actor dropped out because he got a better offer. I need to cast this part right away, so how quickly can you get your client in to see us?”
“When do you need him?” I asked. I’d pedal Beckett down on a bicycle if I had to.
“Can you get him here in two hours?” She gave me the address of the theater.
“I’ll call you back. Give me fifteen minutes at the outside.” I disconnected, heart pounding as I looked up Beckett’s number. I dialed it and the phone went to voice mail. “It’s Pay. I have a possible audition for a play. Things are happening fast, and I need you to call me back right away.” I recited the number and hung up, glancing at the clock. I willed my phone to ring, but it stayed silent. In five minutes I called again and got voice mail one more time. “Call me now.”
I was about to call Julia back and put my career on the line to promise that Beckett would be there when my phone rang. I snatched it up.
“Payton? This is Beckett.”
“Damn, man, you’re killing me here. Always keep your phone on and charged. I have an audition for you. It’s in less than two hours. Get down to my office right away and I’ll give you all the details. They’re in a bit of a panic, and I got an inside track. They want a real looker, so make sure you come dressed to kill.” I checked the clock. “I’ll call you right back.” I hung up and called Julia back. “We’ll be there at eleven,” I told her. “Can you messenger a script over?”
“Gloria has a copy.”
“Okay. We’ll be prepared to knock your socks off.”
“I hope so,” she said skeptically. “I’ll see you then.” She hung up, and I hurried down to Gloria’s office. She was in conference, so I settled for her assistant, Marvin.
“Marvin, do you happen to have a copy of Make My Day?”
He opened a file drawer and pulled out the script. “I need this one, but I’ll make you a copy and run it down.” He was already pulling it apart as he got up from his desk. “Give me ten minutes.” He hurried away and I went back to my office. I had the script for Beckett, and I had the time we were supposed to be there. Now I just needed him to get here. There wasn’t much time for him to get familiar with the play.
My phone rang again. One of my clients, Janice, hadn’t gotten the part she wanted, but they were offering an alternate, so I made the call and encouraged her to accept. “They have agreed to let you understudy for the countess.”
“All right. I need this job,” Janice said.
“You know how things work. You have what they need, so if the show is a hit, you’ll move up.”
“Fingers crossed,” she said.
“I know,” I told her. “You’re amazing, and we’re building your reputation.”
“Thanks… for everything. Jane hadn’t gotten me a part in three months, and you did it in a week. You’re awesome!” Once she hung up, I smiled. Things were working out. At least for now. I had to add that to myself. Usually right about the time things started going well, they all fell apart.
I picked up the phone and asked Millie to send Beckett back when he came in. A few minutes later he was in my doorway.
“Come in, sit down. I have the script and you need to get familiar with it. You’re playing Chad. He’s a Lothario and romances away Frederick’s daughter, Caroline. She’s the only person who matters in his life, and you take her away.”
“Is that all there is to the part?”
“No. It seems you really do fall in love with her, and at the end, both of you return when Frederick needs you both. To him you’re taking away his daughter, and the play is written from his perspective, but once that changes at the end, it’s just her living her life and everything has been told through his distorted lens.”
“Sounds pretty powerful,” Beckett said as he settled back and opened the script.
“Play it that way. This isn’t a comedy, but a serious drama. But if there is a line where you can interject some light humor… well, you never know.” I checked the clock. “You prepare, and I’m going to make arrangements for a car to take us there.”
Beckett closed the script. “You’re going to go?”
“I don’t have to, but I thought a friendly face would be good.” I smiled quickly. “Now go back to work. You need to blow her socks off.”
“The producer is a woman?”
“The casting director is, and she’s the one you need to impress, at least this time.” I motioned for him to get back to it as I reviewed and cleared my e-mail and told Millie I was going to be out of the office for a while. I made sure to send a thank-you note to Gloria.
When Millie called to say the car was waiting, I led Beckett out and down to street level. The last thing I wanted was for him to be late.
Traffic was a nightmare, and we weren’t getting anywhere quickly.
“What do we do?” Beckett asked over the assault of car horns and yelling.
“We’ll walk if we have to,” I told him. I was about to get out when the cars in front of us began to move.
“The bus ahead finally moved out of the way,” the driver said. We got through the intersection and the next one as well. We pulled up in front of the theater and rushed inside.
Places like this had always been magical for me, but right now everything was dark. On show nights, the lobby would be bright, and the rich colors of the decades-old space would glow with warmth and reflect the excitement and anticipation of every theatergoer. But right now, with the lights off and the space empty, the theater seemed like a lady all dressed up and waiting for a date that she wasn’t sure was going to show.
A woman entered from the theater proper.
“I’m Pay Gowan,” I said, “and this is Beckett Huntington.”
“Right on time. I like that. Julia Richards. Let’s get started.” She turned and walked us down the dimly lit aisle, past the red seats for the audience and under a lavishly appointed balcony to the stage. I sat down and watched as she motioned Beckett to the stage, where a young woman already stood waiting. “Grace will read opposite you, so just hand her your script,” Julia said as she took a seat a few rows behind me.
Grace looked a little taken aback when she realized Beckett held the script from the play being produced. I wasn’t sure what scene he’d chosen, but Grace began to read, and Beckett went into a scene that he’d first read less than two hours earlier. It was a powerful section of the play where Chad woos Caroline.
My heart stopped more than once in the two or three minutes he was on stage. Readers for auditions usually simply read, but Beckett pulled her into the scene, speaking the lines to her as though she were Caroline, moving closer at just the right moments. I shifted to the edge of my seat, leaning closer as I tried to figure out if Chad was actually going to kiss her or not. For those few minutes, Beckett was transported and changed into Chad, and I wished more than anything that I was Grace so he would tell me those beautiful words about how the world would be dull and colorless without me. I saw Chad’s passion and conviction reflected in Beckett, and then he leaned in to kiss her, but stopped just short. I held my breath and stilled as neither of them moved.
The spell broke with a sound from out front, and I heard someone say, “Thank you.” I got up and walked toward the sound. Julia stood and came down the aisle toward me.
“I was expecting that I’d be here alone, but the director and producer are both here.” She motioned to seats near the two men, and I took one.
“Thank you, Mr. Huntington, that was impressive,” the director called out to Beckett.
“I could have done better, but I only got the script a couple of hours ago,” Beckett said. I smiled. He looked amazing on that stage, filling it with his presence. I wanted to go up there with him to bask in the glow that seemed to surround him.
“You’re bigger, physically, than we anticipated using.”
I had expected this reaction and handed Julia the portfolio of photographs. She opened it and smiled, then stood and walked down the aisle to the director. I saw her point out one picture in the group, and the director and producer shared a look. I knew Beckett had the part in that moment. I just did. They had seen exactly the answer they were looking for.
“Can you dance, Mr. Huntington?” the director asked.
I couldn’t for the life of me remember if we’d covered that or not. We were so close, and I was seconds from biting my nails to the quick. God, no wonder agents don’t normally attend auditions. If I did this all the time, I’d be a complete nervous wreck on a daily basis.
“Do you have music?” Beckett asked.
“Can we have the music we were going to use for act two?” the director called to someone in the back, and the music began. Beckett walked over to Grace, put an arm around her waist, and glided her around the stage with grace and fluidity. Jesus Christ, I was starting to feel jealous of Grace. She flushed slightly in Beckett’s arms as they moved.
“Thank you,” the director called, and the music stopped. “Can you sing?” he asked.
“Passably. It’s not my greatest strength.”
They’d never said this was a musical. I nearly panicked. We were so close.
“That’s all right. This isn’t a musical. I just had to make sure you weren’t perfect.” There was humor in his voice. “Young man, please don’t change your hair or look at all. No beards or some such thing. Are you open to a change of hairstyle if required?”
“Of course,” Beckett answered from the edge of the stage with so much excitement in his voice he looked about ready to jump down at them any second. He leaned forward in anticipation, and I did the same, willing them to say he had the part.
“Thank you for coming in. We really appreciate it.”
I sat back in my seat, stunned. I had been so sure he had everything they wanted. I turned to Julia, who was already moving back toward them. She and the two men conferred, and she lifted the portfolio and brought it back to me. “They would like to speak with you.”
I nodded and went over to the producer and director while Beckett descended from the stage. “Payton Gowan,” I said as I approached.
“Hiram McTavish. I’m the director, and this is William Howard, our producer.” I shook hands with both men. I had, of course, heard of both of them and was thrilled to meet them. I had heard there was a story behind Hiram’s name. Apparently his mother was Jewish and his father Scottish. Only in New York.
“He’s not what we were expecting for the role, physically,” Mr. Howard said. “But we like him otherwise and his preparation was amazing. Did he really only see the script a couple of hours ago?”
“Yes. I gave it to him.”
Mr. Howard extended his hand again. “Your client has the part. We’ll be in touch as far as the contracts and details soon.” I nodded and handed each of them one of my cards. “We appreciate you being available on such short notice.” He turned to where Beckett was standing. “If he can produce a performance like that in a few hours, I’m anxious to see what he’ll do in rehearsal. We’ll be in touch.”
“Thank you,” I said, grinning. Julia led me to where Beckett was waiting, and we left the theater.
“You got the part,” I told him as soon as we were out on the street. “They’re going to send me the details, and we’ll go over them thoroughly. I suspect it’s a limited engagement. I believe the show is expected to run for just six or eight weeks.”
“So I only have a job for two months?” he asked.
“This is theater. The show could close after one night. You never know. But the script is good, and I think you’ll have a good run.” I looked up at the marquee and smiled. “You’re going to have a stellar run.” We had been in such a hurry that I hadn’t been able to do my usual research. “Look who we’re going to be working with—Kendall Monroe. I’d heard he was interested in doing theater again.”
“Are you kidding? I love him.” Beckett grinned.
“This is a great part, and you’ll make the most of it. Then we’ll turn it into something else. Just do your best. You had what they wanted and blew them away. And don’t think they aren’t going to tell everyone they know about how you played a scene from their play at an audition with only two hours’ prep. They’re still wondering how you did that.” Hell, so was I.
“I have a good imagination,” Beckett said, his gaze burning into me so deeply I thought my knees would give out. I tugged at my collar. The wind was calm, thank goodness, but it was still chilly outside. However, I was getting warmer by the second. “You remember what happened the other night?”
I stood stock-still. “Most of it, I think.” I lied. I remembered every second my hands were in contact with his skin and each time he kissed me. They were indelibly etched on my brain. How could I touch him and not remember it?
“I remember all of it,” he said in a bedroom voice that sent a quiver through me. All I could think of was that I had to get away, and yet I wanted to move closer. “You ripping my shirt because you wanted to get to me. The way your hand felt on my chest.” Beckett moved closer. If I didn’t find a way to get out from under his gaze, I was going to pass out from lack of oxygen.
The car pulled up. I had forgotten to call him, but the driver must have been intuitive because he had amazing timing. I pulled the door open and got inside. Beckett followed, and the driver pulled out into traffic.
I sat back in my seat, staring at my knees and then Beckett’s knees. After that I was so screwed. There was nothing to stop me from lifting my gaze slightly to his thighs and the way his jeans tightened over them, like denim-encased tree trunks.
“Are you staring at my package?” Beckett whispered. I jerked my head around, looking out the window. The thing was, I had been. How could I not? It was right there, and it wasn’t as though it could be missed. Beckett laughed and placed his hand on my thigh, squeezing lightly. “I was teasing and yet I wasn’t.”
“I got that.” What I didn’t understand was the way I couldn’t take my eyes off him. I’d turned to look out the window, but my gaze was drawn back to him like a magnet. No wonder he’d gotten the part. The way his black shirt stretched across his chest was nearly obscene, and from this angle, the light fabric followed each angle of his body. I closed my eyes and felt my fingers moving over his nipples just like they had the other night.
“What are you thinking about right now?” Beckett asked, soft enough that only I could hear.
How could I answer that question? I was thinking about that night and how he’d brought me to bed. He was so strong, but he’d held me gently, as if I was precious.
“This is so wrong,” I whispered. “I’m your agent and we have a professional relationship. At least we’re supposed to.” I was acting so stupid. “I need time to think.” At least that was what I said. Of course what I wanted was to direct the driver back to my apartment and spend the rest of the day in bed with Beckett. Maybe if I could get this whole thing out of my system, I could think about something other than him for five minutes.
Beckett clasped my leg and then released it. We pulled up in front of my office, and Beckett got out with me.
“Don’t you need to go home or to work?”
“It’s my day off at the grocery store. I was wondering if there was a conference room or something I could use. It’s hard for me to get anything done at home. I just have the sofa and there’s always someone there.”
“I’m not sure.” I shrugged. “As you saw, my office is tiny, and the conference rooms are often in demand, but I’ll see if I can work something out.” Space in Manhattan was always at a premium, and I understood that the agency didn’t pay for any more space than they absolutely needed. Apparently, before I joined the firm, my tiny office had acted as a conference space.
I escorted Beckett up to the twelfth floor and into the office.
“How did it go?” Millie asked.
“Very productive,” I told her. “He got the part, and I know they’re anxious to get down to business, so is there a space he can use to work for a few hours?” I knew this was an unusual request, but other agents had brought their clients in for one reason or another. Claude had explained to me when I first joined the firm that, depending on the day, an agent was a babysitter, coach, psychologist, agent, and parent.
“Jane’s office has been cleaned out, and it’s empty at the moment. We aren’t using it for anything other than conferences for now, so you could put him in there.”
I thanked her before walking Beckett down to the empty office next to mine.
“I have a lot of work to do, but I’ll let you know as soon as I hear anything.” I pulled myself away from him and went back to my office, closing the door and breathing a sigh of relief.
I was making calls when Garren stuck his head in. “Lunch?”
I had been putting him off for some reason, but now I nodded. I didn’t really trust him. Maybe it was the residue of the incident a few weeks earlier. I wasn’t sure, but my gut urged caution. I finished my call arranging for another audition, and then I called my client with the information before hanging up.
Garren was still hanging around, and once I finished my call, he came inside. “Is your client using Jane’s office?”
“Yes,” I answered. “He needed space to prep for a role.”
Millie came in with a package and handed it to me. “It came by messenger.” I opened it and grinned as I glanced through the contract. They evidently did want Beckett. Their terms were generous.
“Can you give me half an hour?” I asked Garren.
Garren nodded and left as I took the contract to Beckett and closed the door to Jane’s office. When I gave him the news, I had to caution him not to yell. He jumped up anyway, and I was engulfed in immensely strong arms, lifted off my feet, and twirled around the tiny space. “You need to put me down so we can go over the offer.”
“All right,” Beckett said and moved away.
“Come to my office and we’ll go over the details.” I still held the contract, but I wasn’t about to go over it in here. This space was dead—or at least it felt dead. I opened the door, and Beckett followed me next door, to my office. He sat in my extra chair, but immediately bounced back to his feet. “If you don’t settle down everyone in the building is going to think we’re having an earthquake.” I laughed. I was happy for him. Hell, I was happy, period.
“You look confused,” Beckett told me.
“Sorry.” I kind of was.
“Why?”
“Because I’m happy for you, and….”
“You feel like you shouldn’t be because of what I did,” Beckett supplied.
“Yeah, sort of, I guess. I’ve been a little out of sorts lately, and it has nothing to do with you. It’s my problem, and I’m the one who needs to work through it. Today, this”—I pointed to the contract—“is about you. The part is yours, and they went above the equity minimum for a part like this, which is great. It says they thought you were dynamite. The run is expected to be six weeks, and you open in three. There is a possible extension for two additional weeks at the end of the run. It’s Broadway, and landing a role like this could make your career.”
“So you think I should sign?”
“Yes, and once you do, I’m going to do my best to get everyone I can think of into that theater to see you. This is the opportunity you’ve been waiting for, so make the most of it.” I handed him a pen and the contract, and he signed at the bottom. I added my signature where required, as well as the agency information.
“Now what do I do?” he asked when we were done.
“I have a lunch appointment with one of the other agents. Come along with us to celebrate and then go on home and tell all your friends and family about your upcoming Broadway debut.”
“Do things usually work this way?”
I laughed. “God, no. I think the last time it happened was with Shirley Jones and Richard Rodgers. So take the gifts the universe hands you and be grateful.” As soon as those words were out of my mouth, it hit me. I was quick to give advice but I rarely took my own. Maybe Beckett was one of the gifts I should be taking. Then again, maybe he was the apple of temptation.
I packaged up the contract and excused myself, taking it to Millie so she could record it for me and arrange to messenger it back.
“I see you’re the one who’s been keeping my assistant so busy,” Claude said from his office.
“Stop it,” Millie told him. “He’s doing well and you know it.” She took the package and promised she’d take care of it for me. “Don’t listen to him.” She turned toward Claude’s office. “If I only had to work with Claude all day, I’d probably go postal on him.” She winked at me. “If he picks on you, he likes you,” she added in a whisper.
A snort came from Claude’s office. I thanked her again. Garren was outside my office waiting, and I got Beckett before leaving the office. “He just signed his first contract, and we’re celebrating,” I told Garren. I wasn’t sure how he felt about Beckett joining us, but it was only lunch, and a barrier between Garren and me was probably good.
We went just around the corner to a deli. I found out what Beckett wanted and placed our orders while he snagged us a table. Even after the regular lunch hour, the place was busy.
“I understand you’ve had a really good few weeks,” Garren said to me when we sat down with our sandwiches. “I remember those first few successes. They seem like everything is going your way, and then….”
“I think Pay is doing a great job and takes care with his clients. He’ll always do well,” Beckett said. “People appreciate someone willing to go the extra mile. And that’s Pay. It’s what he does and it will carry him far.” Beckett took a bite of his sandwich, and I glanced at him out of the corner of my eyes, smiling slightly.
“Aww, isn’t that cute,” Garren said snidely. I glared at him. Garren looked away first and ate as a cover. I was not going to allow him to treat anyone like that, least of all one of my clients. I made a note never to go to lunch with Garren again. Whatever crap he was peddling, I wasn’t going to buy it.
“So is there anything interesting you’re working on?” I asked him.
“There’s a big musical about to open, and I’ve got a couple of clients up for really good parts.” He sounded so smug. “Carried Away. I’m expecting to hear anytime.”
“I heard this morning,” I said. “One of my clients landed the role of Candice and is understudying for the countess.”
Garren didn’t say anything, but I saw his jaw tighten.
“I suspect they’ll be making all their calls very soon.” I had no idea what roles he was referring to, but I guessed Janice had snagged that one out from under his client. “I’ve got performances to attend all weekend. Prospective clients to see in action.” It seemed some of my new clients were spreading the word.
“I haven’t been to the theater as an audience member in years,” Beckett said.
“I’ve gone so many times that the last time I almost didn’t enjoy it. I go to watch the actors and judge performances rather than to enjoy myself,” Garren said.
“You don’t really like it?” I asked.
Garren shrugged. “It’ll happen to you too. You’ll get to the point where the whole thing becomes a business, and once that happens, it sucks the fun out of it.”
I turned to Beckett, then back to Garren. I hoped like hell that never happened to me. “I still remember the first time I got to go to a real play. My dad took me. He said the play was too advanced for me, but he wanted to go, so he took me. I remember watching the spectacle from the first moment the curtain parted. Yeah, Chekhov was a little advanced, but I was enthralled. The theatrical magic has never faded for me, even after some heartbreaks. They were my own and I had to deal with them, but they weren’t because of the theater.” I shared a quick glance with Beckett.
“What was your disappointment?” Garren asked, and I instantly wished I hadn’t gone there.
“The day I realized I wasn’t as good an actor as I thought I was. I switched my gifts to backstage and the business side. I thought about giving up the theater altogether, but my dad said I shouldn’t. So I wasn’t going to be a great actor—I could be the best director, producer, or agent there was. I helped run a small theater and then got this job. What about you?”
“I sort of fell into it,” Garren answered sullenly. “My mom and dad were show people in Vegas, so it was expected that I’d go into the business as well. I didn’t want to be on the stage, so I got into this.”
“It doesn’t sound like it makes you happy,” I said.
Garren shrugged. “Sometimes things are what they are,” he said. He took a bite of his tuna salad sandwich. “I have a good client list, and I keep myself busy.” It was obvious to me his heart wasn’t in what he was doing. Beckett stood and returned to the counter. “Is there something going on between you?” Garren asked in a whisper, his gaze following Beckett.
“Come on. He’s my client.”
“You keep looking at each other. Even now, he’s at the counter and watching you as he waits in line. You know Claude has rules of conduct for his agents.”
“Is that why you asked me to lunch today? You were worried that I might have been seeing one of my clients? Or did you want to see if I was interested…?” Garren rolled his eyes, but he didn’t deny what I’d said. “You’re acting jealous.”
“I am not,” Garren argued, but the heat I would have expected if I were wrong was missing. The argument was perfunctory. But I let it drop. There was nothing to be gained by fighting with him. “I was hoping we could be friends.” He smiled more warmly than I expected.
“Sure,” I agreed. I didn’t trust him, but “keep your friends close and your enemies closer” came to mind.
“I don’t have anyone in my life at the moment and….”
So he wanted to be that kind of friend. I was surprised. When I’d accused him of being jealous, I thought he was interested in Beckett, but he was interested in me for some reason.
“Are you seeing someone?” Garren asked.
I sighed. I wasn’t sure how to answer that question. “Not really,” I answered honestly. I wondered why I was hesitating. It had to be the fact that I knew the question that was looming, and it wasn’t one I wanted to answer.
“Would you like to go out sometime?” Garren asked.
“Do you really think that’s a good idea?” It was the only response I could come up with. The thought of going out with Garren wasn’t totally repugnant. He was a nice-looking guy and all. But I knew in my heart that he wasn’t boyfriend material, not for me. “I think we could do something as friends if you like. I have an extra ticket for tomorrow night, if you’d like to go to the play.” It was the kind thing to do, but I could see Garren wasn’t particularly pleased with my answer. Once Beckett returned to the table, Garren dropped the topic of conversation.
Garren got a phone call as we were finishing. He answered, listened for a second, and grew slightly pale. “I need to get back to the office. I’ll talk to you later.” He hurried away. I glanced up as he left and smiled over at Beckett.
“Do you get a lot of tickets?” he asked.
“Sometimes. I seem to be a hot ticket right now, for whatever reason, so tickets are coming my way.” I wondered if that was Beckett’s way of hinting that he’d like to go. “I have an extra ticket for Saturday. It’s an off-off-Broadway thing, and I’m not sure what it will be like, but if you’d like to go, you’re welcome.” My phone beeped. As I read the message, I smiled and relayed it to Beckett. “The contract has been received. Rehearsals begin at eight on Monday, but they want you there at seven for initial measurements for costumes.”
“Great. I guess I need to give my notice at the grocery store.”
“Yes, you do. There’s no way you’ll be able to do both.” I put my phone away and looked seriously across the table.
“I’ll do that, and yeah… I’d like to go to the theater with you. Is it a dress-up affair?”
“I like to dress for the theater. It’s part of the magic and makes it an occasion.” I’d found that making a big thing of a simple occasion made it memorable and special. “If you want to meet for dinner, we could do that too.”
“Sure,” Beckett agreed slowly. I could almost see him trying to figure out if he had enough money. “Should I meet at your place at six?”
“Great.” I couldn’t stop a smile. Yeah, this wasn’t a date—at least I didn’t think it was a date—but I wasn’t going to worry about it at that moment. Though if we did some after-date things that got my heart racing and involved contact with his skin, I wasn’t going to say no. “I need to get back to the office, and I’m sure you have things to do. I’ll be in touch if anything changes, and you can call me if you need anything.”
Beckett nodded. “I will.”
I motioned toward the door. “One more thing. I’m going to sound like a real stick-in-the-mud.” I pulled open the door, held it for him, and then followed him outside. “You’re an artist, and believe it or not, success is going to come your way. And when it does, it will seem like you’re on the top of the world, and you’ll feel like it’s never going to end.” Beckett was listening, but I could tell he was already tuning out. “Pay attention. This is for your own good. Our agency is full of people who made it big and now can’t get a job playing a dogcatcher. One day you’re up and the next you’re down. All I’m saying is, make sure that you save some in the good times to get you through the bad times. You landed a great job that’s going to last two months. There will be other parts, but it could take time. Be sure to put something aside.” I smiled at him. “Before you say anything, I know I’m being preachy, and you can ignore me if you want. But this is a tough business, and you need to be prepared and tougher than it is.” We started walking down the street. “You hear stories about guys like Nicolas Cage and think that isn’t going to happen to you.”
“Don’t worry. I have my head on straight when it comes to money.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. Because Gloria—she’s one of the most successful agents in town—she could tell you stories that would make your long locks look like Don King.”
“Okay.” Beckett chuckled. “I get the picture.”
“Good. When I got into this business, I promised myself I’d do what I could to try to keep people away from the traps.” I bumped his shoulder, and it was like nudging a brick wall. “You know you could at least act like you aren’t as big as a house.”
Beckett pretended to stumble away. “How was that?”
“Too little, too late,” I quipped. “Anyway, I was about to say that you are going to love working with Kendall Monroe. He’s a really nice guy, and apparently so is his partner.”
“He’s gay? I didn’t know.”
“His partner is Johnny Harker.”
Beckett stopped walking and stared at me, openmouthed. “He’s amazing.”
“And apparently Johnny has been working on a theatrical version of his novel, Love’s Brush with Death. It’s very hush-hush, which means everyone knows it’s happening, but no one has seen any details.”
We arrived at my building, and I escorted him inside and up into the agency. He stepped into the office he’d been using and gathered his things, then joined me in my office.
“I have so many things I have to get done,” I said. “But I’ll call you if I hear anything more, and I’ll see you on Saturday. You did great, and you’re going to be a huge success.” I wanted to move closer to him. I was tempted to repeat what had happened the other night. Beckett closed the door and came around the desk.
“The other night I had too much to drink and I….” I figured I needed to try to explain my behavior.
Beckett’s eyes darkened. “I didn’t. I knew exactly what I was doing.” He tugged me up by the lapels and kissed me, taking possession of my mouth with lips tasting of mint and man, the perfect combination for seduction as far as I was concerned. My head spun and I moaned under my breath. Beckett deepened the kiss for just a few seconds and then backed away, leaving me breathless. “That was just so you’d know where I stood. What happens next is up to you.”
I whimpered as Beckett moved to the door, pausing with his hand on it. My legs were shaking, and I was hard as hell in my pants. I shouldn’t want this, and I sure as hell shouldn’t be thinking about Saturday night and what he and I might get up to after the play.
“I’ll see you Saturday.” Beckett yanked the door open, and I sank back in my chair. I wanted him; there was no doubt about it. Now I had to decide which part of me was going to win the battle going on between the caution in my head and the urge to follow Beckett out of the office and down the street until we reached his apartment and, after going inside, staying there for three fucking days. If desire was heightened by anticipation, then I was about to explode.
I took a deep breath to get myself under control before picking up the phone to make a call. I did nothing but hold the damn phone. With my heart still pounding in my ears, I could hear little else. I had to get this under control before Saturday night. That was all there was to it. What I ached for didn’t matter: Beckett was a client, and that had to come first. If I told myself that enough times, I might just believe it.