Page 31 of Shattered Queens: Veronica
I remember Serena telling me that it was Annie who taught her all about guns. I wonder if she can give me a lesson.
I see Nina walking toward me. “Veronica, you made it! Welcome.”
I give her a hug. “I almost didn’t,” I tease. She laughs until she can barely breathe. “I’m glad I can entertain you with my fear of athleticism.”
Watching their open affection highlights a gap in my own life. My experiences have been secret relationships and the occasional tryst, and I yearn for the kind of love they share. It's a scary thought, though, given that the last "I love you" I heard was a tool for manipulation. Thatexperience, where I handed over all my power, shattered me, and I'm still learning how to rebuild from it. There are times I don’t know if I’m even capable of it.
Looking around the morning class, I’m struck by the group’s diversity. There’s a mix of genders and ethnicities, young and old. It's a reminder that safety doesn't discriminate. Nina walks us through some stretches and introduces us to the fundamentals of kickboxing: front kicks, side kicks, uppercuts, and jabs. Then she introduces combos, and I swear I’m going to throw up. I take a break and head to the restroom, and I actually puke. I hear the bathroom stall open.
“My guess. You didn’t eat much,” Annie tells me as I exit the bathroom stall.
“Just coffee,” I admit.
“Well, it’s an intense class, so you need more than that. Come on.” She hands me a paper towel and a mint. “Please tell me I’m not the only one this has happened to.” My face is flushed from the workout and the embarrassment.
“Not by a long shot.”
I spend the rest of the hour recovering. I check my phone and see a notification for a meeting. It’s from Cam. “Project Planning.” What an original name. The meeting is scheduled for nine in the morning, and he just sent this? I grab my things and head out, waving at Nina and Annie on my way.
I rush home. Maybe if I bump into him, we can just meet and get it out of the way. I see Will at the front door of the building.
“Hello, Will.”
“Hello, Ms. Veronica. Can I help you with anything?”
Maybe he’s seen Cam. “Actually, yes. Have you seen Mr. Cam Villanueva? You know, tall, muscular, curly dark-brown hair and gray eyes. He walks around like he’s god’s gift to the world?”
“I know exactly who you’re talking about, but no. I last saw him a couple of days ago.”
I grumble, irritated. Now I have to rush to get ready. “Thank you, Will. How’s your grandmother?’
He looks shocked at my question. Maybe because I remembered? “She’s doing well. Thank you for asking.”
I hurry to my apartment and get ready. I don’t have a lot of time, but I can’t be late. I rush to do my makeup because I never leave home without it.
Cam
Chapter 17
I’m currently waiting forVeronica, who is, predictably, running late. She’s probably just taking her sweet time getting ready. You'd think putting on a full face of makeup shouldn't take hours, but what do I know? To be fair, this meetingwaslast-minute. I enjoy seeing her flustered. I bet she's going to be pissed.
I see her car pull up. Her driver looks indifferent. I understand she may be a handful, but his job is to care and protect her. I make a note to talk to the brothers about him. I don’t have a driver; one, I don’t go out enough to need one, and two, I’m not Kayde-family status. They have a global empire. She exits the vehicle without his assistance, and that makes my eye twitch. She looks beautiful and flustered. I bite back a smile because this is my doing.
“I made it.” She beams as if she won a prize.
I look at my watch. “Barely,” I mumble. But she hears me. The anger I feel for her overtakes any decency I have. If it wasn’t for her, no, for her idea, I wouldn’t have donated the property. She didn’t force me to sign the deed over. She is the catalyst for me to realize I’m holding on to the past, a piece that I continue to mourn, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to move on from. I’ve held on to it for over a decade. Then she comes along with an idea, a fantastic idea at that. That’s why my stipulation is that she be involved. She needs to see it through as much as I do.
“Hi, Cam.”
“Hello, Veronica.”
Her brow lifts in surprise. “No smart-ass nicknames or attitude?”
“Not today. This is a work meeting.” I make the mistake of putting my hand on her lower back to guide her toward the restaurant. Even through her thin pink shirt, I feel her soft skin. I quickly remove my hand and put it into my pants pocket. I see her wince, and I don’t know what to make of that reaction. I move in front of her to open the door, but she beats me to it. She opens it, and that annoys me, but I don’t show it.
Sometimes, I just have a craving for an all-American breakfast, so I brought her to this mom-and-pop restaurant. It’s one of my favorites in the city. What better place to discuss the loss of something while I stuff my face with carbs? We take a seat, and I see Veronica admire the place.
“This is so cute.” She looks at the array of decorations scattered around. There is no rhyme or reason to where things are.
