Stealing Rose (The Fowler Sisters #2)(17)

Fucking f*ck. We’re meeting Violet Fowler and her boyfriend? Fiancé? Whatever the hell he is? I saw Violet when we were in Cannes, but I never spoke to her. I don’t know her, our paths have never crossed, and I sure as hell don’t know Ryder McKay.

I know her sisters, though. Lily is back in the States. Rose … I’m not sure where she is. Did she go back to New York? Or is she still in Europe somewhere, traveling? She can do whatever she wants. She definitely doesn’t need to work.

“Caden.” I glance up when I hear Whitney’s impatient voice. She’s already resumed walking toward the pub, waving her hand at me, the universal sign of “hurry up.” I go into motion, my stride easy, my smile firmly in place. No reaction, no anything. I’m my usual smooth self.

“Sorry, thought I saw someone I knew,” I lie when I reach her, curling my arm around hers. “Let’s hurry so we can go grab that table.”

Chapter Five

Rose

“Come with us,” Violet pleads. “You’ll love Whitney. I met her a few months ago and we became instant friends.”

I shake my head, clutching my cell tight to my ear. I’m not about to be the third wheel at some couples-only dinner at a quaint pub. No, thank you. “I think I’ll stay in tonight.” I’ve already been in London a week, doing a fabulous job of avoiding my dad, Pilar, and even Violet, to an extent. We told our father I was staying on to work at the London office, which he’d reluctantly agreed was a good thing to do. I was off the hook for most of the summer, he said. Not that I’m needed at the moment. He made sure and added that last little bit during our conference call.

Thanks for the vote of confidence, Daddy.

“Oh, come on. It’s a big group of us. Not a bunch of couples or anything. And it’s not too far from where you’re staying,” Violet says pointedly. She’s still unhappy that I’m not staying with her at her place. Instead, I’m at an exclusive little boutique hotel for at least the next few weeks.

“The pub is in Covent Garden?” I ask as I settle on the edge of the bed. The hushed silence of the room is starting to get to me. Being on my own too much is making me realize that I’m lonely.

“Yes, the White Swan. I think it’s like a five-minute walk from your hotel. Please, just … just stop by and see if you want to stay. If not, you can bail. But at least give us a chance.” Violet pauses. “You’ve been cooped up in that hotel room too much. Have I mentioned I’ve lied to Father about you when he’s called?”

“What do you mean, you’ve lied about me?” I sit up straighter, waiting for Violet’s answer.

“I told him you’ve been in the office all week,” she stresses. “Instead of telling him the truth. That you’re moping around feeling sorry for yourself.”

“I am not.”

“You are too,” she returns, her voice harsh. “You won’t come into the office, you won’t leave your hotel room. You act like you’re depressed.”

“Maybe I am depressed,” I mutter, glancing out the window. I stare at the building across from me, the open windows full of happy people in their sunny flats. I see a couple enter their living room, holding hands as they turn toward each other and kiss.

Ugh. Romance. I look away.

“What happened to my tough, feisty little sister? The one who always had a smart comment and loved to give me endless crap?” Violet asks, sounding incredulous. “Because I know I’m not talking to that girl right now. It’s like she’s disappeared.”

“She sort of has,” I admit with a sigh, flopping backward so I lie sprawled across the bed. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“You know what I think? You need to do something different. After you graduated college, you immediately threw yourself into Fleur, and there’s been no looking back. It’s all work, work, work. It’s not healthy. You need to take some time for you.”

Really? The nerve of Violet. She’s no different. “You did the same exact thing,” I point out to her, and she laughs nervously.

“Yes, well … then I met Ryder. And he’s turned my world completely upside down in the best possible way.” I swear to God I can feel her blushing over the phone. My silly, embarrassed older sister.

“Are you saying he taught you how to take some time just for you?” I’m digging and I don’t really care if she gets mad or not. She’s the one who started this conversation.

“He’s taught me a lot of things,” she says softly. Vaguely. “More than anything, he taught me it’s okay to give up some—control.”

I don’t believe it. “Really? You, the ultimate control freak, learned how to give up control?”

“I’m not talking about business. I mean more like with my personal life,” Violet admits.

Hmmm. I think I know where she’s going with this conversation. And I’m delightfully shocked. “Are you talking about your sex life?”

“Rose!” She laughs nervously.

This conversation is hilarious. And enlightening. I didn’t know Violet had it in her, talking about sex. She’s always so straitlaced. She leaves the wild stuff to Lily. And lately, to me. “Give me a break. You’re the one who started this.”