Get over it. Be strong. You can go on without him. This is temporary. It’s not like he broke up with you. All sorts of couples manage through a long-distance relationship.

They do. I can. Zachary loves me in his own special way. He needs me, but he also needs to do this to further his career. Otherwise, he’ll resent me forever.

Taking a deep breath, I slip my Chanel bag over my shoulder and exit the bathroom, stopping short when I see a man standing in the darkened hallway, almost as if he was waiting for me. His face is in shadows but I recognize his build, the way he holds himself. Confident, with that arrogant tilt of his head and those incredibly broad shoulders.

It’s Ryder McKay.

“Well, well, well. Violet Fowler, how are you this evening?” His rumbly deep voice washes over me as he steps out of the shadows, tall and imposing and handsome as sin.

I take a step back, not wanting him in my personal space, but he invades it anyway. “Mr. McKay,” I say politely, not daring to call him by his first name. That would imply I know him, that we’re friends or at the very least friendly coworkers, and we’re neither of those things. He may work at Fleur, but I rarely speak to him. I don’t have to, and besides …

There’s something about all that edgy darkness and how it radiates from him. He demands attention without saying a word, and there’s an air of danger that surrounds him, that ensnares me despite my reluctance to be near him. The innate sexuality that he represents … it scares me.

He scares me.

“I’ve worked at Fleur long enough for you to call me Ryder, don’t you think?” He pauses for a heavy beat and the air seems to fill with electricity as I wait for him to speak. “You don’t mind that I call you Violet, do you?”

He somehow makes my name sound like a sexual promise. I take another step back and my butt hits the wall. He smiles, and I know he knows I’ve realized I’m trapped. “Of course you can call me Violet,” I say, thankful my voice isn’t shaking. I have no idea what to say to him, how to act. “Did you have a nice dinner?”

He grins. “Why yes, I did, thank you for asking. The view was spectacular.” His gaze slides down the length of me, taking me all in. My breasts, my stomach, my hips, my legs, lingering on my feet before moving back up, his gaze once more on mine. “The food was good, too.”

My cheeks heat, but it’s not from the leftover tears. It’s the way he looks at me, his gaze so bold, like he wants to devour me. His mention of the view is in reference to me. As if he’s somehow attracted to me.

I don’t believe it. He’s just trying to unnerve me with his not-so-subtle flirting. And it’s working.

“How’s Zachary?” Ryder asks when I still haven’t answered.

I jolt, giving myself a little shake. Zachary. I need to remember that my boyfriend is outside waiting for the car. Waiting for me. “Fine,” I say as I step away from the wall. But that only brings me closer to Ryder and he doesn’t budge. I can smell him. His scent is as dark and alluring as he is. “I should go. He’s waiting—”

“I hear he’s leaving for London.” The expression on Ryder’s handsome face is all polite sympathy, but with a hint of mockery in his dark blue eyes. He doesn’t like Zachary and the feeling is mutual. Zachary complains about him all the time. I’m sure Ryder’s thrilled that Zachary is leaving. “Trying out for a promotion, correct? I’m sure you’re proud of him.”

Proud of him? I should be. And seriously, did everyone know this bit of news but me? “H-how did you hear?” I press my lips together, angry that I let the little stutter slip. I need to remain composed, especially in the face of this particular man.

He’s a shark. I know he takes advantage of the weak and gobbles them up. I’ve heard the stories. And those stories are more than half the reason Father is so pleased that he works at Fleur. Father admires a shark. It’s why he loves Zachary so much, too, though Zachary is much smoother in his … predatory approach to business.

“My dinner partner told me the good news.” He inclines his head when he notes my confusion. “I’m here with Pilar.”

“Oh.” Pilar. How could I forget? His relationship, his usual aloofness—it’s all such a mystery. Hardly anyone knows much about him, but they all want to learn more. At the moment, though, he’s being downright friendly with me.

“Yes.” He smiles, and it’s so dazzling I feel like I’m momentarily blinded. “Oh.”

“How is Pilar?” I ask, being polite when I realize he seems to be waiting for a response. He still hasn’t moved out of my way and I inhale discreetly, taking in his sharp, masculine scent. I let my gaze linger on him for a long moment as he looks down at the floor, as if he’s savoring a personal joke. His eyelashes are long and thick, casting shadows upon his cheekbones, and my belly flutters when he glances up, his intense gaze meeting mine.

“She’s well. Up to her usual tricks.” The smile that curls the corners of his lips tells me he is in on the joke and I am definitely not. “I should probably go check on her.”

“Where is she?”

“She’s waiting at the front for her car. We rode together.” His smile grows. “I wanted to come back here and check on you.”

I frown. “Check on me?”

He shrugs those impossibly broad shoulders encased in fine Italian charcoal wool. “You seemed upset.”