12. Chapter 12
Veronica
Here I am again, about to ask Cam Villanueva for another favor.
We’re standing close, but not too close.
I saw how he was repulsed at my nearness, that subtle stiffening of his shoulders, the way he was in a hurry to put distance between us.
I honestly can’t figure out this man. He intentionally disregards me one minute, and the other, he’s bringing me dessert, and he’s being decent and tolerable.
Given that we can barely stand to be in the same room, I’m genuinely surprised he even agreed to meet me.
“Why is this here?” He motions to my laptop; his usual indifference evaporates. “I asked you a question, Veronica.”
And there he is. “Well.” I don’t know why I’m so nervous.
I had this all planned out. I was going to tell him about Nina’s Hope and how he would be part of helping so many people.
Maybe that would persuade him to say yes.
I also considered asking my family and avoiding this entire situation, but I know I can do this.
“Well, I wanted to know if you would be willing to sell it.”
No is the instant response.
I can tell he’s upset, but why? It’s a vacant piece of land.
“You didn’t even hear me out.” He moves to walk away from me, but I grab his arm so he doesn’t get farther away.
“This is for a great cause.” I step closer until I’m all that he can see.
Fuck, I feel bold. I really want this, the property.
“Cam, please consider it.” I don’t break eye contact with him.
I stare into his stormy grays. “It’ll help so many families and individuals.
” I see his face soften slightly. If I wasn’t this close, I don’t think I’d notice.
Taking a step back, he runs his hands through his short brown curls. He deliberately avoids my gaze, letting his eyes wander the room until they settle on the window again. It’s late, the moon is hidden behind the clouds, but the city lights help illuminate the sky.
“I’ll buy it from you personally, if you prefer,” I say because he looks ready to leave. I need him to know how important this is.
“Why is this important to you?” It’s as if he actually cares. “Is it a way for Veronica Kayde to fix a fuck-up?”
That was low, but I never expected this to be easy. I didn’t expect to get verbally lashed either. “As I said, it will help people.”
“Bullshit. I saw the other properties. They could work for what you want. I’ll find people to help you. Why this one? Are you looking for a way to get even with me?”
Oh my god, he thinks everything is about him.
“What the hell does that mean?” Unbelievable.
“To get even with you? Not everything is about you.” I’m trying to stay calm, but this man tries my patience.
“Why even bother to tell you? You wouldn’t understand.
” I look him in the eyes. “You’re just like everyone else.
You think I can’t do anything and see the worst in me.
” I’m trying to maintain my strong persona, but it’s beginning to crumble, and a tear escapes.
“But this isn’t about me; it's about the people who don’t have brothers, cousins, parents, or a fucking watchdog to protect them.
” I think about the stories I’ve heard since I started volunteering.
“You ask why this property? Because when I see it, I envision a playground for children to be children, a garden that will help heal, but most of all, it’s where they can feel safe.
” He doesn’t move or speak; he just listens.
“Why is it even listed if you aren’t going to sell it? ”
“That’s none of your business,” he snaps back.
Ouch. I can’t believe I cried in front of him. Shit, this isn’t going as planned, not by a long shot. “This was a mistake. I should have known better.” The familiar feeling is back—failure.
“Ver—”
“Can you please go?” It’s not a question. “I’ve had a long day.” I turn to the pile of papers on the counter. I move to the laptop and slam it shut. Then head toward the dark hallway that leads to my bedroom. “Lock my door when you leave.”
I hate him for making me feel inferior once again.
I enter my bedroom and throw myself on the bed, waiting to hear the front door close.
After a couple of minutes, it does. What took him so long?
I drag myself to the kitchen, starving because I lied about eating at the office.
I open the refrigerator and see a bag with two containers: the dessert.
Opening the first lid, the overwhelming scent of sugar hits me first, then my eyes land on the slice of tres leches cake.
My mouth waters in anticipation. Reaching for the second container, I lift the lid and see a perfect slice of flan.
I grab both containers, along with a bottle of wine from my assorted collection, and make my way to my laptop, noticing it’s open.
The empty lot is still displayed on the screen.
This would be such a great location. I’m not going to give up.
I decide to ask Becca for assistance, since it’s what she does for a living.
Then I spend the rest of the night looking at properties my family owns.
I’m going to find a place and bring this project to life.
Cam
I’m standing in front of the vacant lot that I’ve been holding on to for over a decade.
I’ve received countless offers, but I’ve turned them all down; nothing has felt right.
Letting go of it hasn’t felt right. She had a vision for this, and it was taken from her.
The fury I live with is always there, simmering underneath my skin, constant and unrelenting since that day.
I can’t help but think of Veronica. The hurt in her eyes.
She’s right—I feed into the notion that Veronica Kayde is irresponsible and unreliable, but I’m seeing that there is more to her than meets the eye.
She was so passionate about her vision for this place, but I shot her down without hesitation.
When I walked into her apartment and saw what she was working on, I was impressed and shocked at the level of commitment and dedication.
Still, I was not willing to part with this; I don’t know if I ever will.
I hold on to anything and everything that reminds me of Marisol Villanueva.
It’s not hard to figure out how she knew it was mine.
I hear my phone vibrate and see it’s Rebecca.
“Hello, Becca.”
“Hey, Cam.” She answers without an ounce of professionalism.
“Tell me about Veronica Kayde.”
“Damn,” I hear her mumble. “Well, she’s charismatic, as you know; however, I doubt that’s what you meant.”
I run my hands through my hair, frustrated. It’s been the theme of the day. “Becca, I should sue you for disclosing private information.”
“Don’t Becca me, Cam. You know you aren’t going to sue or fire me.
Veronica is smart and would have figured it out.
Even you can admit her heart’s in the right place.
She emailed me a couple of minutes ago asking for help finding properties.
” I know she wants to say it. Just like all the other times.
“Cam, you need to do something with that land. It’s been there for years—before I started working for you.
” And there it is. “Even Abigail Kayde has offered to buy it, and you declined her offer. Veronica didn’t stand a chance. ”
“Becca, you know how much—”
“How much it means to you.” She interrupts me, as she often does, not caring that I hate being interrupted.
“I know how much it means to you, but you can’t keep holding on to it. She wouldn’t want you to.”
I know she’s right. I’ve known that for years, but I still can’t bring myself to sell it. “When did you get so wise?” I ask my friend because I don’t have many. I consider the majority of people in my life to be work associates.
“Oh, I’ve always been wise; you’ve just been too stubborn to realize it.”
And she’s right. I’ve known Becca for years; she’s an easy person to like. The moment she graduated from college and opened her own agency, I hired her on the spot.
“I need to think about it. This is a big decision.”
“I know it is. But you have to stop living in the past.”
I wish it were that simple.