Rose settles into the seat across from my desk, looking far too chipper for me this morning. I wish I could hide, but if I can’t deal with my sister, then who can I face? “The Fleur gossip mill is in full force today. You’re the main topic of the morning. Well, you, Zachary, and Ryder. They’re calling it a love triangle.”
I drop my hands with a groan and slap them on top of my desk. “A love triangle? God. What exactly are they saying?”
“You sure you want to hear it?” The concern that crosses my sister’s face surprises me. How bad is the gossip?
It can’t be any worse than the truth.
“Tell me,” I urge her, needing to know despite the worry that fills me.
“All right.” Rose sighs and perches on the edge of the chair. “They’re saying that Ryder and Zachary went at it after Zachary caught you and Ryder together, that you and Ryder were messing around in a closet. During the party. That they fought over you and you interrupted them, demanding they stop. That Ryder touched your neck and you let him and the two of you were making eyes at each other in front of Zachary even though you seemed pissed at the both of them at first.” She ticks off each item like she’s reading from a list. A really sordid, soap-opera-making list.
I swallow hard. “Is that all?” Crap, the gossip is scarily accurate.
“Yep.” Rose nods with a little smile. She looks like she’s almost … enjoying this? My sister is twisted. Both of them are. “So is it true? You were fooling around with Ryder McKay in a closet? What exactly were you doing in there with him, anyway?” She actually winks at me.
“It was nothing,” I say dismissively, hoping Rose won’t pursue it.
“Please. You don’t go into a dark closet with a gorgeous man like Ryder and nothing happens.” Rose studies me with her usual penetrating gaze, the smile falling from her face. “Did you do him?”
“No.” My cheeks heat and I curse yet again my tendency to blush. It’s so embarrassing. Besides, I’m telling the truth. I didn’t “do” him. He just got me off with his fingers.
Not like I can say that to Rose, though.
“Uh-huh.” She doesn’t believe me. Whatever. “Are you two seeing each other or what?”
“Not exactly …” My voice drifts and I frown. We were supposed to keep this secret and already people are talking about us. This is so not good.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“There’s no way of defining what’s happening between Ryder and me,” I say airily. “So let’s just drop this conversation.”
“The very last thing I want to do is drop this conversation. This is the most fascinating thing that’s happened to you in a long time.” The grin that reappears on Rose’s face seems as if it can’t be contained. “You’re fucking Ryder McKay, aren’t you?”
“Rose!” I level her with the sternest look I can muster. Does she have to be so blunt? “Don’t say such things.”
“Why, because I’m cutting too close to the truth? My God, you just broke up with Zachary only a few days ago and now you’re screwing around with Ryder. I’m so proud of you!”
“Proud of me?” I’m incredulous. More than anything, I’m embarrassed by this entire situation. I thought I had it in me to have a quick little affair. Ryder has always intrigued me, made me curious, and once Zachary and I were finished, I figured, what was the harm?
But a few stolen moments with him and I felt like I was in over my head. More like I know I’m in over my head. And the way we ended it last night …
I’m pretty sure we’re finished before we’d hardly begun.
“You’re taking charge of your life for once. I know you do it professionally, and that you’ve really come into your own here at Fleur over the last few years, but personally? You’ve let Zachary walk all over you.” I open my mouth to protest, but Rose points her finger at me. “Don’t deny it. You know it’s true. He called all the shots and you let him.”
I clamp my lips shut. She’s right. I let Zachary take over our relationship completely. I was the meek little woman standing by her man. I thought it was what I should do, but I ended up letting Zachary take away whatever power I had left in me. So many things had happened to me that I didn’t want to deal with, it was just easier to hand over the reins rather than take control.
Being with Ryder, sneaking around with him … he invigorates me. Fills me with a sense of self I don’t remember ever having. Even after being so angry with him and Zachary over their pissing contest concerning me last night, I still don’t regret what happened between us.
I secretly wish more would happen …
“So if having a fling with the hottest man who works here helps you recover from that disaster you called a relationship? Then I say more power to you. And to Ryder, too.” Rose smiles and folds her hands in her lap, looking like the sweet little angel she is absolutely not.
“Yes, well, I think Father heard about the … confrontation. He’s already asked me to stop by his office when I can. The sooner the better.” It’s barely eight o’clock and I already have to face him. I don’t want to. It’s bad enough discussing this with Rose. What am I going to say to my judgmental father who’s probably horribly disappointed I split with Zachary in the first place?
I don’t know. All I do know is that it’s going to be a very long day.
“Violet. You’re looking rather elegant this morning.” Father greets me with a warm smile and I pause in the doorway of his office, wondering if he’s trying to disarm me before he goes for the jugular with his disappointment over my behavior last night.
“Thank you,” I say cautiously as I step into his office, walking across the soft, thick-as-a-cloud rug. The room is huge, nearly taking up the entire floor, and I remember how much I loved coming here when I was a little girl. The mini board table that was always covered with the latest Fleur cosmetics, how he would always let us play with them.
Now I’m inside this office filled with such fond childhood memories and all I want to do is escape.
“New dress?” he asks as I approach the giant desk he sits behind, looking as intimidating as ever.
I glance down at myself. The dress is white, short-sleeved, and fits me perfectly, the pencil skirt falling just above my knees. But what makes it special are the lace cutouts at the shoulders and around the waist, with matching ones on the back. It’s elegant and sexy, not revealing at all, but with that hint of lace … it’s very feminine.
I feel strong. Confident. More armor. I’ve needed lots of it lately, I suppose.
“Not really,” I answer him as I settle in the overstuffed chair opposite his desk. I smooth the skirt over my legs, trying my best not to fidget. “I’ve worn it before.” I hate the small talk. I wish he’d get to the true reason he called me here.
“Well, I like it,” he says gruffly, leaning back in his chair so that it creaks. He has all the money in the world and he’s had the same chair since I can remember. “How are you doing?”
I shrug, not sure if he’s asking personally or professionally. “I’m fine. And you?”
“We’re not talking about me.” He waves a dismissive hand. “I’m boring. I want to know how you are. Are you dealing with Zachary’s leaving okay?”
“Um …” I blink at him. How should I answer? How much does he know? “We’ve agreed it’s best if we … split while he goes to London.”
“Really?” He sounds surprised. I’m glad, since I was afraid he might have heard the rumors. “His time in London is temporary. I’m just trying him out for this position.”
“Well, yes, but we both figured he has the job.” Zachary is certainly counting on him having it.
“Don’t assume anything. There are others I want to send over there as well.”
“Like who?” I ask curiously.
“Like Ryder McKay.”
I go still at first mention of his name. Hearing my father say it unnerves me. “You think he’s qualified?”
“I know he i
s.” He pauses, studying me. “And so are you.”
If I was still before, now I’m completely frozen. “Wh-what did you say?”
“Aren’t you interested in a promotion, Violet? You’re capable of doing anything you set your mind to,” he says casually. “You’ve impressed me these last two years. I think it would be smart to have you working in a variety of positions at Fleur for the next few years. You need to gain plenty of experience so that you can run the company properly someday.”
His words are like a bomb detonating in my brain. He always acts so displeased with everything I do, everything I say. His disparaging comments had me questioning myself more times than I liked to count. And now he’s saying, casually as he pleases, that I’ll run the company someday? I think I’m in shock. “I don’t think I’m ready to leave here yet, what with the launch of my new line coming up,” I say carefully. I don’t want him to think I don’t want what he’s offering, but I don’t feel right in leaving yet, either.
“Understood.” He gives me a firm nod. “Just know the offer still stands if you’re interested.”
“Oh, I’m interested.” And I’m also completely blown away. Is this all he wanted to talk about? No mention of last night’s party and the spectacle Zachary and Ryder made over me? No more questions regarding my relationship with Zachary? I can’t believe it.
“I appreciate what you’ve said,” I say. “That you believe I could … possibly run Fleur.”
“If anyone can do it, it’s you. I’ve been grooming you for it since you were a child.” He rests his arms on his desk, clutching his hands together, all while I gape at him. This entire conversation has been surreal. “There’s something else I need to tell you, Violet. Something you might find … unpleasant.”
Ah, here it is. I’m almost relieved that he’s about to deliver bad news. I didn’t believe he called me in here just to lavish praise on me. That’s not his style. “What is it?”
“I was contacted by my lawyer this morning,” he says, his voice low, his expression grim. I feel my body sway at the mention of the word lawyer and I clutch the arm of the chair so tight my fingers hurt. “He notified me that Alan Brown is set to be released from prison in a few weeks.”
The sway turns into a full body slump and I collapse against the back of the chair, my mind spinning. I haven’t heard that name in so long I could almost forget the man existed.
Almost.
“I thought …” My voice drifts and I glance down, focus on my knees peering from beneath the hem of my white dress. I’m trembling and I grip my shaky knees, release a steadying breath, but it comes out like a stutter. Stay strong, stay strong. “I thought he had a twenty-year sentence to serve. It’s barely been three years.”
“His sentence was reduced for good behavior.” The disgust in Father’s tone is clear. He hates this, probably as much as I do. “I didn’t want you to find out in any other way, like reading something on the Internet or by a reporter contacting you. Or worse … someone from his family reaching out to you. Not that any of them will, but you know what I mean. I wanted to be the one who told you first.”
“Thank you,” I say with a short nod. The Browns are a family we grew up with. My sisters and I played with the Brown children. Went to school with them. My parents and the Browns were old, dear friends.
Until their son tried to attack me. Then the old family friendship was horribly splintered forever.
“No one will find out your connection to Alan Brown, Violet, especially considering you testified as Jane Doe during his trial. We took every precaution to protect your identity,” he reassures me as he has before, countless times over the years. But we both know the truth. Anyone with decent research skills and access to Google could narrow it down and figure out that the college junior Alan Brown assaulted four years ago was me.
Little nineteen-year-old me. I fought him off and identified him to the police. My testimony got a dangerous man off the streets.
And now he’s about to be set free.
“I’m not worried about the media. He’ll find me,” I whisper. “He knows exactly where to look.”
I remember the cold stare he gave me as I testified on the witness stand during his trial. When I’d gone to college, Father encouraged me to look up Alan. He liked knowing Alan was there to protect me since I went to college not knowing another soul.
And at first it had been nice. He’d shown me around campus. He took me out to lunch and dinner, introduced me to his friends. But then he thought there was something more between us beyond friendship. When I rejected him, he became enraged.
He attacked me. Beat me up, punched me in the face with his fists again and again, tearing at my clothing. Somehow I fought him off with a ferociousness that still surprises me. He didn’t get what he wanted, not from me.
Alan broke me, though. My family wanted the incident gone, swept under the rug, forgotten, especially Father and Grandma. It was too scandalous for the media to find out. It could have ruined the company image.
Instead, their dismissal of what happened almost ruined me. I no longer trusted anyone.
I put him in jail, though. The rage that had taken over his face when I described in court how I fought him, how I hurt him … it’s something I’ll never forget. But somehow, after the trial, all the fight was taken out of me, all of the strength and confidence that had once been a natural part of my personality for so long.
I only just now feel like I’ve gotten some of that strength and confidence back.
“He won’t bother you, Violet,” Father says firmly. “I promise.”
When I meet his sincere gaze, I see that he means it. Believes it.
But I don’t know if I can.
Chapter Sixteen
Ryder
I wait just outside Violet’s office, leaning against the wall across the hall from her door, my arms crossed in front of my chest, tapping my foot against the floor. I’m impatient as fuck, dying to see her, yet feeling cautious, too. She could tell me to get the hell out and I’d have no choice but to do what she says.
After all, she’s my superior. And I had my fingers buried deep inside my superior’s body last night, making her come in seconds. The memory fueled me for the rest of the night and through this morning. I keep finding myself jacking off to thoughts of her and I normally don’t do that. If I want a woman, I have her. I use her and then I’m done.
Not Violet, though. I toy with her and end up unsatisfied instead. It’s fucking torture. Not for her, since I’ve given her a couple of orgasms.
It’s torturous for me.
The need to talk to her, look into her eyes, hell, tell her I’m sorry—and I never tell anyone I’m sorry, since I regret nothing—is damn near overwhelming.
Plus, we have a meeting scheduled later this afternoon. I thought it best that I approach her first and make sure we’re on good terms. Where better to approach her than her office, with all those windows, where everyone can watch us and see that we’re having a normal, work-related discussion?
Yeah, there are rumors that Violet’s torn between two lovers or some such bullshit, but I know the truth. And so does she. So does that asshole Zachary Lawrence, who has to realize his chances with Violet have withered up and died.
I haven’t spoken to Pilar at all the last couple of days. I don’t know where she fits in all of this, but I can’t worry about her right now. She might be pissed at me and keeping clear until the rumors die down.
That’s not her normal style, though. She loves to gossip, except for when it’s about her. Yet this little story might hit too close to home for her taste.
I hear the click of heels coming down the hallway and I glance up to find Violet approaching, looking fucking beautiful in a white dress that is far from virginal. Jesus, the clothes this woman wears tear me up inside. As she draws near, I see that there are little see-through lace inserts on each shoulder and around her waist, offering me a flash of skin. Yet there’s nothing overt
ly sexual about Violet. She screams elegance.
And all I can think of is how fast it would take to get her out of that dress so I can put my mouth on her skin.
“Ryder,” she says cautiously, stopping just in front of me. “What a surprise.”
“Not a pleasant one, I assume?” I arch a brow, feeling a little testy having her in front of me looking perfect while I feel a mess. I slept like shit last night. Woke up late and haven’t had anything to eat. I’m grumpy. Sexually frustrated.
And the cause of it all is standing before me, looking perfectly composed.
“Well, I’m not sure, after the words we had last night.” She touches her neck, her fingers brushing over the very spot where I marked her. I see that it’s faded to a light pink. If no one knew it was there, they wouldn’t notice it.
But I notice. I put that mark on her, and the urge to do it again is strong. Too strong.
“I’m willing to forgive and forget if you are,” I offer.
She studies me, then glances toward her office. “Would you like to come in and talk?”
“I would.”
I follow behind her, my gaze dropping to her ass, watching it shift beneath the white fabric of her skirt as she walks. I had my hands all over that bare ass last night, gripped her flesh tight as I held her to me …
“We have a meeting scheduled at three, right?” she asks as she steps behind her desk and settles in the chair, scooting it close so she can access her computer.
“We do, yes. That’s why I wanted to speak with you.” I don’t sit down, preferring to stand, hoping it gives me the advantage. “I wanted to make sure you were still okay with it.”
“Okay with what?” She glances up at me, her delicate brows furrowed. Now that we’re completely alone and I can study her unabashedly, I see the faint circles beneath her eyes, the weary way she’s looking at me. She’s tired too.
Maybe last night’s fiasco affected her as strongly as it affected me.
“Okay that I lead the meeting. If you’re not comfortable with me being there …” I don’t finish the sentence, anxious to see what she says.