18. Chapter 18
Cam
I’m currently waiting for Veronica, 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 meeting was last-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.
I sigh, and she rolls her eyes at me. She doesn’t care that I notice. She’s such a brat. Fuck, my dick twitches. I pretend to look at the menu, but I don’t have to. I get the same thing every time. I look up and see that she’s nervous. Why?
“They have really good pancakes,” I tell her while pretending to look at the menu.
“Do you come here often?”
I place the menu down and look at her. Those big blue eyes. “Not really,” I lie and look away. What the hell is wrong with me? I focus on the wind chimes right outside our window. Then I look in her direction, but she avoids my gaze. “Everything is delicious.”
“Why am I here, Cam?”
We are here for business, Cam, I remind myself and get down to it. “Well, in addition to getting a very good tax credit for my donation. I’ll also be covering half of the cost.”
“I’m aware. I read the fine print,” she sasses.
I continue. “That means I’ll have a say about everything.”
“I never heard of someone donating land and wanting to be active in the buildout, but if it saves us money, then, okay.”
The waitress walks over to us and takes our order. Veronica orders scrambled eggs with a side of ham and avocado. I, on the other hand, order eggs, bacon, sausage, hash browns, and plain pancakes. She looks at me, surprised.
“What? I’m starving. I haven’t eaten.”
We keep the conversation neutral, mapping out the timeline and discussing the contractors.
When the food arrives, I dig in right away.
She doesn't; she grabs her fork and merely pushes her food around the plate. That sight frustrates me. She must notice me staring. She stabs some of the food with her fork; it’s a small amount.
I know she’s hungry. I focus on my plate so she doesn’t think I’m a creep who likes to watch people eat.
I ask for an extra plate, and when it arrives, I put a pancake onto it and pass it to her.
“You need to try a bite. It’s delicious.”
She gives me a fake smile. “Just a small bite.”
“Why do you do that?” The question just comes out of me. “Why do you pretend with the fake smile?”
She stutters, unable to answer, but after a couple of moments, she speaks. “People have always judged me, regardless of how much I try to prove otherwise. I figure if I smile and pretend their words and opinions don’t affect me, after a while, I will start to believe the lie myself.”
I feel like a piece of shit. I don’t know what to say to her.
So instead of saying the wrong thing, I don’t say anything at all.
She slices a small piece of pancake and puts it between her lips.
I try not to stare as she chews. I hear her moan.
Goddamn it. My dick won’t take the hint.
I sip my orange juice, then I see her tongue lick the maple syrup from the corner of her mouth.
I cough and spill the rest of my drink on my perfectly clean white shirt.
She breaks into laughter. It’s infectious and genuine; I can’t help but laugh along with her.
The tension in the air seems to finally dissipate.
I try to clean my shirt, but it’s a lost cause.
We schedule weekly meetings to share updates.
She opens up about the other project she’s helping put together with the other volunteers.
It’s a community event that will provide information about the resources Nina’s Hope offers; in addition, sponsors will offer free or discounted services.
I can tell this is something she’s very passionate about.
Her blue eyes sparkle when she talks about helping people.
I’ve never seen this side of Veronica Kayde, and I’m glad to be part of the selective few.
I hear my phone ring, and I ignore it. It rings again. When I pull my phone from my suit jacket and see who it is, I don’t bother to pay it any attention.
“Do you need to get that?” she asks as she takes another bite of the pancake.
"No, it’s my assistant. I really must head out to my next appointment.”
“Right, I need to head to the office, update Andrew, and get to work on the event.” She digs into her purse and pulls out her wallet.
I take it from her hand. “No, I invited, so I pay.”
“Fine with me. You have more money than I do.”
Such a smart-ass, but she isn’t wrong.
“Wait, I’ll walk you to your car.” I pull out some cash and leave it on the table. Before I can get over to her, she’s pulled her chair out and is already on her feet, ready to go. I hand her the wallet, and we walk next to each other as we walk to her car.
The driver opens her back seat. Before she enters the car, she turns to me. “I don’t know what made you change your mind about the vacant lot, but thank you.” She gives me a warm smile and moves close to me. Her soft lips kiss my cheek. When she pulls away, I still feel her lips on my skin.
Fuck my life.
I feel my phone buzz. A message flashes on my screen, a reminder for an appointment I’m missing. I don't even bother to reply. I have bigger problems than a blown schedule.
It’s been a week since our breakfast. Since then, Chaos and I have only managed one video call while I was buried in work.
Now, our second meeting is finally underway.
I’m sitting beside her, keeping a safe distance, while the contractor across from us struggles to look at anyone else. It’s fucking pissing me off.
She commanded his attention the moment she stepped into the portable site office.
Despite meeting at a dusty construction lot, she’s in full professional attire, high heels, and a wrap dress.
Brandon, the contractor, is laying out the project’s next steps and timeline, but his words are lost on me.
I’m fixated on the way he smiles when he addresses her, acting as if I’m not even in the goddamn room.
I find myself wondering how easily I could fire him and find someone else.
I look at my watch and decide to end the meeting.
“I’m sorry to cut this short, Brandon, but could you email these details to me? Ms. Kayde and I have to head out.”
“We do?” Veronica looks at me, confused.
“A work emergency,” I lie.
“Is everything all right?”
“It will be,” I say, not wanting her to worry over a lie. “I need to ask Brandon a quick follow-up. I’ll meet you at the car.”
She nods. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Brandon.”
“The pleasure was all mine, Ms. Kayde,” he says, smirking at her.
“Veronica. Please, call me Veronica.”
“Very well, Veronica,” he replies.
I stand there, forced to witness the interaction. I shove my hands into my pockets, seconds away from beating some professionalism into him. The moment the office door clicks shut behind her, I lunge at Brandon.
“What the hell, Mr. Villanueva!”
“You are not to make eye contact with Ms. Kayde. If I catch you openly flirting with her again, I will fire you. I’ll have you blacklisted faster than you can say 'concrete.' Do you understand me, Brandon?”
“Ye-yes, Mr. Villanueva.”
I straighten my suit jacket and walk toward the car. This wasn't about her dating life; it was about respect. From the second he laid eyes on her, I knew exactly what was running through his mind.
Dammit, he is going to be on-site for months.
I pull out my phone and dial the office, a place I rarely visit.
I speak with my assistant, who I almost never use.
My instructions are clear; find me an alternative contracting company.
We haven’t officially broken ground yet, which means I still have time to replace him. I won’t blacklist Brandon—yet.
Veronica is leaning against my car, checking her phone, again. She seems worried, but I know if I ask, she won’t tell me the truth. I also can’t help the image that pops into my head. Me on my knees with her leg on my shoulder.
“Is everything okay with Brandon?” she asks.
That brings me back to reality.
“You mean besides him openly flirting with you. Undermining your professionalism?”
“Cam, it’s fine. I’m used to people not taking me seriously.”
Fuck, her saying that pisses me off. “You may be used to it, but I’m not going to let some idiot undermine you in front of me.”
“Cam Villanueva, are you defending my honor?”
“Don’t get used to it.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” I see her smile. A rare, genuine smile.
Fuck, what is happening? I open the car door, and she enters. No snarky remarks, nothing. She does as she’s told. Fuck me.