I slide off the desk and tug my skirt back into place, feeling awkward as usual. It’s always this way after we mess around in his office or some other clandestine location. Usually I become nervous, he becomes brusque, and I scurry away like an insecure little girl, hoping he doesn’t hate me.
“Hey.”
Turning, I find him watching me, his gaze soft, his smile warm. He’s looking at me as if he might actually care, and my heart swells with hope. “Yes?” I ask, hoping I don’t sound too nervous.
He approaches me, drops a kiss to my lips. “I’ll see you tonight, yes?”
I nod. “Of course.”
“Good.” He traces my lips with his index finger. “I’ll come over after work?”
“Maybe we could grab dinner,” I suggest, loving the idea of actually going out with him.
“How about takeout?”
Disappointment crashes within me. “All right.” I step around him and start toward the door when he comes up behind me and rests his hands on my hips, twirling me around so I’m facing him.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“I should go.” I frown up at him, reaching out to straighten his tie.
“With no kiss goodbye?”
Standing on tiptoe, I press my mouth to his in a chaste kiss. “Goodbye,” I murmur, hating how final that word sounds.
“Violet. What’s wrong?”
I shake my head. I can’t tell him that I’m worried about all of this. About him. About us. I’m falling for him. And I think he’s falling for me, but what if …
What if this is all a lie?
He slips his fingers beneath my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze once again. “Tell me.”
“I’m fine. Just worried. About … everything.” I sound silly. Like I’m making up an excuse.
“You worry too much.” He drops a kiss on the tip of my nose and then reaches out to unlock and open the door for me. “It’s been a pleasure, as usual, to discuss packaging details with you, Miss Fowler,” he says loudly in case anyone is passing by.
No one is, of course. I want to laugh, but I don’t. “Thank you, Mr. McKay. Your advice, as usual, is spot on.”
“That’s what I hoped.” He smacks me on the ass and shoves me into the hall with a wink and a smile before he walks back to his desk.
I return to my office in a dreamlike state, hardly remembering taking the elevator to get there. There’s a bright pink Post-it note stuck to the middle of my monitor and I snatch it off, reading the familiar handwriting of my father’s assistant, Joy.
Your father would like to speak with you at your earliest convenience.
Settling behind my desk, I dial her extension.
“Is he busy?” I ask in greeting when she answers.
“Not at the moment. If you come now, you’ll probably be able to squeeze in a few minutes before his next appointment.”
“I’ll be right there.” I hang up and head down the hall toward Father’s office, wondering what he could want to talk about. Nothing unusual is going on that I know of. I’ve been lying low, especially after my fake tentative reconciliation with Zachary. I haven’t mentioned it to Rose or Lily, and I’m hoping I’ll never have to mention it because everything will come together perfectly. They will kill me if they think I’m back with him.
But I have my doubts about this plan. How can it come together when Ryder is being so secretive? I don’t even fully understand what’s going on.
“Ah, there you are.” Father smiles when he spots me standing in the open doorway. He looks genuinely happy to see me. Weird. “I was hoping to talk to you. Sit.”
I do as he asks, straightening my skirt, ignoring the ache between my legs and the fact that I’m not wearing any panties. I don’t even recognize who I am anymore. “What’s going on?” I ask politely.
“First, I want you to know that Alan Brown has been released from prison.” He lifts his hand when I open my mouth, silencing me. “He’s in upstate New York and can’t leave the county. He has to check in with his parole officer on a regular basis.”
I release a shuddering breath. “Do you think that will stop him?”
“Violet.” He levels his gaze on me. “He’s not going to come after you. You’re worrying about nothing.”
Leave it to him to dismiss my fears. He’s been doing that in regard to Alan Brown since the incident happened. “I can’t help it,” I admit softly. “You didn’t see his face when I testified against him, how angry he was. I could see the rage he felt toward me, but you don’t know. You weren’t there.” He was at work. Grandma came with me, sitting discreetly in the courtroom, hiding in the back row. She’s such a recognizable icon that she couldn’t risk being seen by any of the media.
She had no problem coming with me, being there for me. Lily wanted to come, too, but she was even more recognizable than our grandmother, especially back then, since that was at the height of her notoriety.
Father acted like it was nothing. A blip in my existence. Nothing more.
“Of course, you can’t help it. It was a traumatic experience, but you can’t let it control your life.” His voice is firm, his expression pleasant. Telling me that I’m just wasting my time.
So I do as he asks and move on. “Is there anything else?”
“Yes. As you know, Zachary is leaving us. Temporarily of course,” he adds hastily. “But it’s happening, and I’m not sure when his short tenure is up in London if he’ll be returning here,” Father explains.