“So call her and say you’ll be late,” Imani urged. “Or invite her. The more the merrier. You deserve to have fun. And hey”—her voice turned sly—“maybe you’ll meet the bodyguard division.” She winked. “They’re hunks, and they don’t spend much time around the office, so you might not get to know them otherwise.”

The mention of hunks conjured an image of Ronan King, all perfectly broad shoulders and sexy angles. I frowned. Perhaps I did need a distraction from him, and after a few drinks, people might say things they otherwise wouldn’t. This could be a good chance to gather information and make up for lost ground.

“Okay, I’ll come.”

“Yes!” She high-fived me. “We leave the office at five thirty. Just stick near me and I’ll introduce you to everyone.”

I forced myself to smile. “That would be great.”

She returned to her desk, and I put the finishing touches on the slide and checked the clock. Time for lunch. I powered off my screen and wandered to the staff kitchen area. I found my food in the fridge and chose an unoccupied table, then sat and pieced together my salad wrap.

“Mind if I join you?”

I raised my eyes. Words of welcome died on my tongue. Ronan stood over me, resplendent in a black suit and elaborately knotted tie.

“If you must.”

He sank into a seat and placed a small cardboard container and a mug of coffee in front of himself. He opened the container to reveal a rice salad. “It’s nice to be able to get down here. I usually eat in my office, but I had a little extra time today.” He grabbed a spoon. “How are you enjoying your job?”

I glanced around. People were staring. I wished he hadn’t come. They might ask questions. And I didn’t want to spend more time with him, no matter how gorgeous he looked. My heart gave a flutter, making a liar of me.

“It’s fine,” I told him. I would not let on how absorbed I’d become in my project. “The plans are coming along well.”

“Good.” His eyes crinkled at the corners. He leaned forward and dropped his voice. “I know I didn’t give you much choice, but I’m glad you’re not hating every second of it.”

I shrugged because I couldn’t think of what to say. Nothing seemed adequate. I took a bite of my wrap instead.

He started on his rice. “Tell me more about yourself.”

My eyes darted around again, but thankfully, most people seemed to have stopped staring. “Why? So you can use it against me?”

His eyes glinted with amusement. “Because I find you interesting, Willow.”

“Oh.” I didn’t know how to respond to that, or to the pleasant buzz his words caused in my lower stomach. “What do you want to know?”

“You studied art in college.” He took a drink of his coffee. “Were you always planning to go into communications and marketing?”

My cheeks heated, and I glanced down. How had he managed to zero in on a sore point? I didn’t want to answer. Not when it would either show me for the spoiled rich girl I used to be or demonstrate what a failure I was. I didn’t want him to see me in either way.