Page 18 of Shattered Queens: Veronica
What I didn’t expect was for Veronica to open the door in a robe. Who does that? What if I’d been a complete stranger? The robe clung to her skin, and she was flushed. I assumed I’d interrupted her in the middle of a tryst. Maybe that’s why she didn’t want to let me in. It’s not like shecan date with her family—more so, her brothers and cousins—always monitoring her. She doesn’t know how lucky she is to have people watching her closely and making sure she’s safe.
Deciding that a text is too informal, I pull up her phone number and press the dial button. It rings and rings.
“So you decide to call instead of a simple yes or no?” she sasses.
“Well, you messaging me is an indication hell froze over, so I had to celebrate the momentous occasion,” I mock her.
She mumbles something, but I can’t make out the words.
“How can I help you, Ms. Kayde?”
“What? No chaos? No spoiled brat comments?”
“Not unless you want me to. Plus, I’m in a good mood. I was just told I hit billionaire status,” I tease.
“Ugh, that’s obnoxious.”
I have to keep up pretenses. “That’s rich coming from someone who lives off her family’s money.” Right where it hurts.
“You know, you don’t have to be such an asshole in every interaction we have.”
“What fun would that be?” Pushing her buttons is one of my favorite things to do. There’s something about her reaction that makes my dick twitch. Wait, what? Jesus, I need to get laid and fast. Note to self, Veronica Kayde doesn’t make my dick twitch. I need to take control of this. “I’m assuming you need something. Because I doubt you called out of pleasantries.”
“Actually, you called me.” There’s a pause. “But yes, I actually need to talk to you about something.”
“Is everything okay?” I don’t know why I’m concerned. She has a pack of wolves guarding her, and she’s being watched twenty-four hours a day.
“Oh yeah. I’m okay. I just need to talk to you about your company.”
That piques my interest because there is nothing exciting about my company, and I didn’t even know she knew about it. “Let’s do dinner tomorrow night. I have a couple of meetings that I can’t get out of today.”
“Um, does it have to be dinner? I don’t know what time I’ll be home from the office.” I hear a break in her voice.
“Don’t worry. It’s not a date. It’s just a meal.” She doesn’t say anything. I pull the phone away from my ear to check whether the call dropped. No, still there. “Listen, send me a message when you want to meet, and we can then decide if dinner is a good option? How does that sound?”
“I guess that sounds okay.” Her voice is soft and timid. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
The call drops. That’s unusual. The ending of it lacked a certain fuck-off vibe I’ve grown accustomed to from her. I look at the time; fuck, I’m late for my appointment, and I hate being late. Even if this isn’t work-related, being late gives me anxiety. “Everyone else can be late, but not you.” My father would repeat it like a mantra. “You represent the family and, one day, the business.” There was a time when I idolized my father, but that was a lifetime ago. Screw him.
I don’t know why Veronica’s dismissiveness irked me. I always know what to say to push her buttons, but at the moment, I’m clueless as to what caused the mood change. I try to push it out of my mind, but it’s like a tick; I can’t move on until I know the why. All night, it stuck with me so much that it ruined my meeting, a meeting I had been looking forward to all day. But alas, getting my dick sucked was not meant to be, at least not today.
After a restless night, I spent the entire day in meetings that, once again, could have been settled in emails. I sent Veronica a text askingif she’d like to grab dinner. She responded that she’d already eaten at the office. Shit, I’m starving. After checking the local bakery’s hours, I decided to place an order for some desserts, knowing she has a sweet tooth. I order an assortment just to show her that I come in peace, even though she’s the one who asked to meet.
I ring her doorbell, and she abruptly opens the door. Out of breath…again. And again, the image of her in a robe comes to mind, with her nipples peeking through it and her face flushed. I had to turn away because the sight of her like that made my dick hard. I’m only a man, and as much as she is infuriating, she is beautiful, and that’s a lot. And that fucking body, god, it was so hard to look away. She’s my best friends’ annoying, spoiled brat of a sister, and she’s off-limits.
“Hey,” she says, bringing me out of my thoughts. “Are you okay?”
“Hello, oh yeah, am I too early?” I look behind her, checking whether she has company. She follows my eyes.
“Maybe just a little. I was tidying up.” I see her cheeks turn red as if embarrassed. I feel a pang of guilt for assuming she has someone in her apartment. I’m guilty of feeding into the public perception of her being a party girl. I notice she doesn’t have any makeup on, and she’s wearing jeans and a white T-shirt. No one sees this version of Veronica Kayde. She’s like me; we keep people at a distance, at least the ones who matter. What the fuck am I doing here?
“Are you going to stand there or come in?” she sasses.
Well, I made it this far. I step inside the apartment; the once mundane living space is full of color. The walls have been painted; I’m pretty sure that wasn’t on the list of approved renovations. I look at the window facing the bright city, and there are plants and orchids surrounding it.
“You really zhuzhed up the place.” I turn to her. “I didn’t know you liked plants.” She looks so graceful as she walks to the foliage, gentlycaressing their leaves and smelling the orchids with a serene look on her face.
“It gives me something to talk to. I—” She stops herself and notices the bag I’m holding. I completely forgot about it.
