Owning Violet

by Monica Murphy

  But the way I feel about Violet, what’s happening between us … is not so simple. I don’t want to hurt her. I care for her. Want to protect her. Lies always hurt, and I’m keeping a big one. She’ll hate me when she finds out I was dishonest.

  That’s the last thing I want, though I know it’s best.

  I’m starting to think fuck what’s best and chase after what I really want.

  “It’s not someone else. Who else can it be? I saw them together, Ryder. They weren’t acting like two business associates having a chat. They weren’t behaving like two old friends hanging out, either. The way he touched her, the way she looked at him, they were like … lovers,” Violet argues. “He doesn’t want to reveal who he’s seeing not just because of me and my sisters, but because he works with the woman.”

  “Well, you really shouldn’t fuck where you work,” I say, a reminder for us as well as anyone else.

  She remains quiet, pulling one of my tactics. Damn, I really like this girl. The way she thinks, the things she says, the things she doesn’t say. How responsive she is to my touch. The connection we have is unlike anything I’ve experienced before. I’m not only attracted to her body; I appreciate her mind. I value her opinion. She’s thoughtful and beautiful. So beautiful. We could go far, Violet and me.

  But I’m lying to her. Tricking her. Our entire so-called relationship is based on a lie. She’s too good for me. She deserves a man who’ll treat her like a princess. Not a man who pushes his girl too far and lies.

  Violet may like it when I push her too far, but it’s a cheap thrill. One that won’t last. She needs a man like Lawrence, minus his asshole tendencies. A man who works hard, is honest, comes from a good family, and can provide for her what I never, ever can.

  I’m a mess. And most of the time, I revel in my mess. Not now, though. I want to change for Violet. I want to be a better man, but is it possible? I am who I am and sometimes, when I’m particularly low, I feel like no one can fix me.

  No one.

  Not even her.

  “Very true,” she finally murmurs. “Such wise words, Ryder. I suppose you’re referring to us?”

  Now it’s my turn to remain silent.

  “If you want to end it, just say so.” Her voice is tight. She sounds furious. “I’m tired of the back and forth, Ryder. What we’re doing, it always feels like a game, and I’m the loser every single time. I try to be real with you. I try to give you everything you want and you’re still not happy.”

  Her words claw at my useless heart, tearing it to shreds. She’s one hundred percent right and I can’t disagree. “I’m a user, Violet. You know this.” Why am I saying this? It’s as though I purposely want to sabotage what we have.

  But really, all we have is smoke and mirrors. None of this is real.

  “So you’re just using me.”

  “Isn’t that what we established from the get-go?”

  She’s quiet again. I hear her breathing. I swear I can hear the slow, steady beat of her heart. The fine little crack I just struck through it with my callous words. “I really hate you sometimes, Ryder,” she whispers just before she ends the call.

  I dump the phone on my desk and run my hands through my hair, sliding them down until they cover my face.

  Sometimes, I really hate myself too.

  I feel like I’ve been summoned to the great and powerful Oz’s lair. Or the gallows where I’ll get my head chopped off, take your pick.

  The voicemail was waiting for me when I returned to my office after lunch. A solo lunch I spent at an extremely crowded hole-in-the-wall sandwich shop. I ate a roast beef with Swiss on sourdough at a table so tiny my knees kept bumping into it. I stared out the window, sipping on my extra-large Dr. Pepper, and watched the people pass by, filled with regret. And I never have regret. Life throws shit at me and I just move on. When opportunity knocks on my door, I take it. Run with it.

  I look at my time with Violet as an opportunity to get ahead in this company, so why the hell can’t I run with it?

  Because you feel guilty.

  I’m taking. Taking and taking from Violet and enjoying every fucking minute of it, too. Slowly but surely, I’ve been giving, too. I want to take care of her, not ruin her. I want to spend my days and nights with her, not use her, toss her aside, and move on to my next opportunity.

  I think the very opportunity I want is a relationship with Violet. But I’ve already fucked that up.

  The voicemail waiting for me had been from Forrest Fowler’s assistant, Joy, asking me to meet with him at three o’clock on the dot. I returned the call, confirming I would be there, then sat in my office until two forty-five, my brain on speed mode as I thought of the many things Forrest Fowler might want to discuss with me.

  Hardly any of them good.

  I’m in his office now, sitting in a plush, oversized chair, watching as the president and CEO of Fleur Cosmetics reigns behind his desk, trying his best to wrap up what appears to be an extra-long phone call all while sending me apologetic glances and holding up his finger, gesturing it won’t be much longer.

  No big deal. I have all the time in the world. My schedule is slow this afternoon and I’m still grouchy as hell after the way I treated Violet. She didn’t call me, she didn’t text, she didn’t email, and usually she’ll reach out to me somehow. Some way. I know she’s pissed. I wonder if she told her daddy just how pissed she was.

  If this conversation has anything to do with his daughter, I will lose it. Swear to God.

  He finally hangs up the phone and reaches beneath his desk, hitting some secret button that shuts his office door with a quiet efficiency that only the very wealthy can afford. “How are you doing, Ryder?” He smiles benignly, and the sight of it puts me on edge.

  I sit up straight. Something about this man commands my absolute attention. I don’t want to disappoint. I don’t want to look like a slacker. I want this man’s respect, and the only way I’ll receive it is if I give him the respect he deserves in return.

  He also just so happens to be the father of the woman I’m fucking, and I can’t lie—being in his presence makes me extremely nervous.

  “I’m very well, sir. And you?” I sound like a putz. But shit, what else can I say? Definitely not the truth.

  It’s been insane these last few weeks, old man. I’m jealous every time I see Violet with her smarmy asshole ex. Jesus, that guy is a prick. By the way, I think I know who you’re banging, so I guess it’s not such a secret anymore. And I’ve also been fucking your daughter all over the building. As a matter of fact, I really pissed her off when I reiterated—yet again—that I’m just using her.

  Other than all that crazy nonsense, I’ve been most excellent, sir.

  “I hear you’ve been busy lately, working on Violet’s new project.”

  His casual mention of Violet makes my heart drop. Here it comes. He’s going to demote me. Fire me. Whatever. “We’re in the process of having the package prototypes put together. By next week they should be available. I know … I know Violet is extremely excited.” Not a lie. She’s very protective of this project and I can’t blame her, considering her name is appearing on everything.

  “Violet says they’re going to be beautiful.” He looks at me pointedly. “She told me you’ve been a big help with the line, even suggesting marketing ideas when that’s not necessarily your area of expertise. She says that you really know your stuff.”

  “Uh, thank you.” I’m shocked. When did he talk to her about me? And why would she heap so much praise on me? I thought she hated me.

  “I’m sure you know about Zachary Lawrence’s temporary promotion,” he says, changing the subject completely.

  I try my best to remain neutral, but my lips curl into a sneer for about two seconds. Long enough for the very astute Forrest to notice. “Of course,” I say stiffly.

  He laughs and shakes his head. “You don’t have a very high opinion of him?”

  “Not in the least, sir.” I say n
othing else. He can’t hold it against me if I remain fairly neutral.

  “I understand, son. I’m not too fond of him myself.” His use of the word son startles me. No one calls me that. My own father called me a no-good, money-sucking bastard. I have no idea how to let an older man care about me in a fatherly manner. I didn’t think it was possible.

  Not to mention the fact that he just revealed he doesn’t like Zachary Lawrence. Interesting.

  “International positions are opening up within Fleur,” Forrest continues when I don’t say anything. “Not just the one Zachary is filling. Temporarily, I might add,” he says, making me like him even more. “I wanted to see if you were interested.”

  “Interested in taking a position overseas?”

  “Yes. More opportunities are set to open within the next few months.” He studies me, his gaze never wavering. “I think you would be a most excellent candidate.”

  Triumph surges through me. This is exactly what I want. What I’ve been working toward over the last few years, ever since I came to Fleur. Recognition from Forrest Fowler accompanied by promotions and opportunities that’ll bring me the money and prestige I fucking deserve.

  “I’m honored, sir,” I say with all honesty. “Your consideration means a lot to me.”

  He smiles. “Not that I haven’t noticed your hard work, McKay, because I have, but you need to thank Violet. She’s really been championing your work.”

  I frown. Really? What about Pilar? She’s the one who’s supposed to be working Forrest over to get me a promotion. “Violet?”

  “Yes. We had a meeting a few days ago with the board, discussing who we thought would be a good fit for the international positions. Your name was brought up by Violet. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think she has a crush on you.” He winks at me.

  A crush. That’s a funny way to describe what Violet and I are doing. How I feel about her.

  And just how do you feel about her, asshole?

  I ignore the bitchy voice still lingering inside my head.

  “I really doubt that,” I tell him, earning a chuckle. “Seriously, Violet has been a joy to work with. She’s very smart.”

  “I know.” Forrest beams with pride.

  “Her cosmetics line will bring in tremendous business to Fleur. It’ll appeal to the younger set and attract an entire new customer base,” I say.

  “That’s the plan.”

  “You know …” I lean forward and brace my elbows on my knees, cupping my hands together. While I have his attention, I’m going to take a chance. The worst he could say is no. “I have this idea … but I probably shouldn’t bother you with it.”

  “You absolutely should bother me with it,” Forrest encourages. “I love an idea man. Not enough of them here if you ask me. Just a bunch of sheep, always nodding in agreement with whatever’s said.”

  Interesting. I’ll have to remember this for future use. “All right. Here’s what I was thinking.” I’ve had this idea since I started working for Fleur, but I’d never had the balls to mention it to anyone. Now that Forrest Fowler is my captive audience …

  “Perfume.”

  Forrest tilts his head, not looking impressed. “We have a few of those already, son. That’s nothing new.”

  “I know, you’re right. But it’s been a while since Fleur has introduced a new scent. And I was thinking it would be smart on Fleur’s behalf to roll out three,” I explain.

  “Three?” He frowns. “All at once, or every six months …”

  “All at once. Each one of the scents will be distinctly different yet somehow still cohesive. They’ll go together, complement each other. We would sell all three as a set—and separately—and they would be aimed at the woman on the go. The girl in her early twenties who’s graduated college and is just starting out on her career, savoring her independence and attempting new things.”

  “Interesting. Go on.” Forrest nods.

  “And we would call the perfumes …” I go for the dramatic pause because holy hell, I have nothing to lose. “Lily. Rose. And Violet.”

  The room is silent. I swear he can hear my thunderous heartbeat. I put it all on the line and if he says no, I’ll be all right. At least I made a suggestion, which is a lot more than I can say for the rest of the chumps that work at Fleur.

  Forrest grins slowly and he keeps nodding his head. “I like it. I like it a lot. Hell, why did I never think of it? We have a Dahlia scent, Fleur’s very first perfume. Why wouldn’t I think of my own daughters?”

  Relief floods through me and I almost slump in my chair. But I keep my shit together and act like this is a normal experience. “I’m glad you like it,” I say tentatively.

  “Brilliant is what it is. I want you to write me up a more detailed proposal and then email it to me. CC my assistant Joy, too.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Excitement builds within me. This little meeting is turning out better than I thought. He actually listened to me. And even better, he likes my idea, which he should because it’s a hell of an idea. One I never shared with anyone, not even Pilar.

  That bitch would steal it from me and take all the credit. I knew this, and that’s why I chose to remain silent. We do nothing but keep secrets from each other. That’s all we’ve ever done throughout out entire, strange relationship.

  No wonder I have no idea how to love a woman. I’m so fucked up, I trust no one. Don’t want to get too close. Don’t want to reveal my vulnerabilities, my fears, my weaknesses. The only person I’ve gotten close to doing that with is …

  Violet. And I hardly know her.

  “I have a call to make.” He stands and rounds his desk, holding out his hand toward mine. I stand and shake it, giving it an extra pump, which makes him smile. “I’m impressed, son. Keep this up and you’ll go far at Fleur.”

  “That’s my plan, sir.” I release his hand and take a step back, needing the space. Needing to make sure this is real and I’m not dreaming.

  “Stop calling me ‘sir.’” He grins as he falls into step beside me and escorts me out of his office. “It’s Forrest.”

  “Thank you, Forrest,” I say with utter sincerity as he pauses in front of his assistant’s desk. She’s typing away on her keyboard, not paying attention to us in the slightest. “I’ll do my best to prove to you this idea is worth it.”

  “Oh, I’m not worried about that. I have a feeling you’ll come through and impress the hell out of me.” He claps me on the back with his palm, nearly sending me staggering forward. “I have all the faith in the world in you, son. All of it.”

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Violet

  The delivery comes near the end of the day, after I give up pretending I can concentrate and actually get any work done. The argument with Ryder threw me.

  What else is new? He’s constantly throwing me. I feel like I’ve been on a roller-coaster ride these last few days, torn between my work here in New York and the opportunity London could offer me. Torn between Ryder wanting to keep our relationship secret and announcing it to everyone, including Zachary.

  Especially Zachary.

  I’m cleaning off my desk and preparing to go home when someone from reception walks into my office carrying a beautiful, heavy silver flowerpot filled with delicate purple and yellow flowers.

  Violets.

  I smile as I tease the velvety petals with my fingertip, looking for a card, but there isn’t one. The flowers brighten what ended up being a completely horrible day. Starting with the argument I got into with Ryder and the conversation I suffered through with Zachary not even an hour ago. The man is persistent. I’ve put him off for days, but he cornered me. Kept trying to convince me to come back to his place so we could reunite like old times, he said with a suggestive leer that wasn’t one bit sexy.

  A firm no was my answer and he didn’t like that at all. Did he really believe I would fall into his bed as if nothing had ever happened? I suppose, considering I’d done it before. But I was a different p
erson then. I’m stronger now.

  My smile fades and I wonder if Zachary sent the flowers. I can’t keep them if he did. I don’t need any more unnecessary reminders of him in my life. I spent twenty minutes after lunch trying to put together a small going-away party for him, much to my irritation. My heart simply wasn’t into it. Though I should view this dinner as a celebratory, “yay, he’s out of my life” type of party.

  I’m awful.

  I turn to my computer, ready to shut it down for the evening, when I see the new email in my in-box. From Ryder. The subject line reads, “I’m sorry.” I click on it and read:

  My sexy V,

  I’m an asshole. I know I’ve said this to you before and you’ve agreed readily. I can’t blame you for agreeing because we know the truth.

  I’m not good enough for you. I never will be. But I want you. I can’t let you go. Not yet. I’m a selfish motherfucker but trust me, you benefit from this arrangement just as much as I do.

  At least I hope you think so.

  I’m sorry. I’m sorry for the horrible things I say. I’m sorry for the horrible things I do.

  But I’m not sorry for the things we’ve done together. Or for the way you’ve made me feel. What we share means … so much. Too much.

  I hope you like the gift I sent you. If I had my choice, I would scatter the violet petals all over your naked skin. But you might think that’s a waste of a good flower. I’m not sure.

  Yours,

  R.

  Stinging, sweet pleasure blooms in my chest as I read his email over and over again. He still wants me. He’s the one who sent me violets. No man has ever done that before. You’d think they would; given my name it’s an easy choice.

  But I guess no one is as thoughtful as Ryder.

  If he knew I believed he was thoughtful he’d probably flip.

  I hit reply and start typing.

  Dearest R –

  Thank you for the violets. They’re beautiful. And thank you for the apology. It was beautiful too.

  You say you’re not worthy of me but I think you’re wrong. I love the idea of you scattering violet petals all over my naked body. But only if I can do the same to you.