Chapter 4
Carter
“Let’s try someplace new today,” I said and tapped my driver on the shoulder. “You decide, Mo.”
“I got you, Mr. Jones,” he replied and started the engine of the Mercedes.
Every day I went to the same coffee place, a Starbucks, for a hazelnut cappuccino to energize me with a sugar rush and a little too much caffeine. But today, I felt adventurous, like breaking routine.
I’d felt the same way last night after I’d stared Veronica down in the gallery. I’d refused to go back on my purchases, I really did like the art, and that’d probably pissed her off more. Her vibe, that attitude, was addictive.
I felt weirdly comfortable around her even though she’d been fuming last night at the thought of becoming a charity case. She was anything but. She intrigued me. She’d been on my mind nonstop since she’d opened her apartment door yesterday, and I couldn’t shake it no matter how hard I tried.
It was bullshit. Jayne made me angry; what she’d done had broken my heart and my trust, so how was it possible I could be fascinated by another woman? Sure, six months had passed since I’d actually heard from my soon-to-be ex-wife, but that wasn’t long enough in my opinion.
Yesterday, I’d sworn off women. Today, all I could think about was one woman in particular.
“Take me somewhere in SoHo,” I said. “Somewhere independent.”
“You got it,” Mo replied.
Buildings flashed past, and my reflection stared at me from the window. What was I doing? This wasn’t me. I didn’t obsess over women; I obsessed over business deals and the new season of Game of Thrones. That was it.
This was ridiculous. I should’ve just gone to my usual Starbucks and ignored the internal rhetoric revolving around Veronica. “Mo –”
“Here we are, sir,” he said, pulling into a parking space.
I nearly jumped clean out of my skin at the sight of Veronica’s apartment and the indie coffee shop beneath it. Serendipity couldn’t be blamed for this. There weren’t coincidences.
I considered asking Mo to take me back to the office but what the hell. I was here now, I might as well get a cup of Joe before I rushed back. I got out and pushed open the glass plate door, silently praying that Veronica wouldn’t be in the store.
She’d think I was the biggest creeper on earth if I started buying coffee from the store right beneath her apartment.
The interior of the store reminded me of a barn, if coffee beans replaced the scent of animals. There was hay everywhere and wooden crates for seats. Two dudes with magnificent beards and chunky glasses sat on a pair of boxes in the corner, talking over chipped coffee mugs. Tre fashionable for the modern day.
No doubt, the milk here was hand squeezed from the udders of a cow they’d tied out back and fed on non-GMO grass and spring water from the Appalachian Mountains.
“Just a cappuccino to go.” A blond stood in front of the counter, curvy, short, wearing a pair of jeans, worn sneakers and a shirt.
My insides squirmed. Fuck. “I’ll take one, too,” I said, a little too loudly.
Veronica turned and blinked at me. “What the –? You’re everywhere,” she said, but there wasn’t anger in her tone this time.
“I wanted to try something other than Starbucks. My driver brought me here. I swear to God, I’m not stalking you.”
“I know,” she replied. “Trust me, I’m well acquainted with a stalker.” Her expression darkened. “Which reminds me, I’ve got to get upstairs and finish cleaning up.”
The guy who had the fate of our cappuccinos in our hands stifled a yawn and fiddled with the knobs and buttons on the coffee machine.
“Ugh, service in this place is super slow,” Veronica whispered. “I’d go to one of the bigger chains but yeah, this is right downstairs. Seems like a waste to drive all the way to Starbucks just because Mr. Wholegrain takes his time with the machine.”
I grinned at her. She had a great sense of humor. “Yeah, I usually stop at Starbucks. I – listen, I wanted to apologize for yesterday. I realize how that must’ve seemed, but I assure you, it was totally innocent. I just wanted to check out some art. And I didn’t realize I’d bought three of your paintings until after I’d done it and the snooty owner dude told me the artist’s name.”
“No,” Veronica said. “That was my fault. I shouldn’t have freaked out like that. I had no right. I guess, I was just stressed after everything that happened yesterday.”
The door slapped open behind us and one of the bearded fellows in the corner jumped and spilled his coffee.
“There you are!” The friend who’d been with Veronica the night before stormed into the store. She spotted me and did a double take. “And there you are. Good morning, Mr. Jones. How are you today?”
“Fine, thanks, and yourself?”
“I’d be better if my friend answered her cell phone,” Georgia replied and shot Veronica a hard look.
“I left it upstairs,” Veronica replied and raised her hands. “I didn’t expect to be down here this long.”
“Oh, the tortoise is making your coffee again?” Georgia asked and didn’t keep her voice down, either.
The guy behind the coffee machine didn’t pay the insult any attention. He picked his nails and sat down on the stool while the coffee gurgled.
“This place needs new management,” I said.
“Good luck with that,” Veronica whispered. “He’s the manager.” She nodded to the guy. “I’ve complained twenty bajillion times but it’s like ramming your head into a brick wall. He doesn’t care.”
“Hey,” Georgia said and tapped the side of her nose. “You could buy the place and fire him, right?”
I chuckled. “I guess I could, yeah. Buy it, revamp it, turn it into a new coffee store chain. Then you’ll never have to worry about waiting for your morning cup again.”
Veronica’s lips drew into a thin line. Shoot, had I gone too far again? Every time I brought up money or buying stuff, it seemed to piss her off, and that was the last thing I wanted to do. She had enough on her plate. Shit, so did I.
“You could really do that?” Georgia asked. “I was just kidding, but wow, what must that be like? Being able to buy anything you want, whenever you want.”
“There’s more to life than money,” I replied.
“Easy for you to say.” Veronica pressed two fingers to her lips and silenced herself. “Sorry, that came out rude.”
“That’s because it was rude,” Georgia said.
“No, it’s all right. I get where you’re coming from. It’s easy for me to say that there’s more to money when I have so much of it,” I said. “But it’s true. Once you reach the level where you’re comfortable, you start to realize that all the stuff you thought you wanted is just an empty promise. And the stuff you really need is what you sacrificed along the way.”
Both women stared at me.
The barista took that moment, thank God, to deliver our cappuccinos. I whipped out my wallet and retrieved a couple bills. “Let me get this.”
“You don’t have to do that.” Veronica bristled beside me and scrambled for her purse.
“Seriously, I’ve already got my cash out.” I handed the money over, grabbed the coffees, then gave one to my wife’s sister. That’s right. My wife’s sister. I had to bear that in mind, no matter how pretty she was or how feisty.
“Thanks,” Veronica said. “I guess I’ll see you around.”
Would we see each other around? “I guess. Have a good one.”
She made for the door, Georgia following her and looking over her shoulder every few steps, and fear hit me in the head as I was sledgehammered by the concept that I might not actually see this woman again.
After all, once I’d tracked Jayne down and handed over the papers, wouldn’t that be the end of the family tie? There wouldn’t be a good excuse for me to see Veronica. Other than the one I had in mind right now.
“Veronica,” I called out.
She stopped, her palm on the glass pane of the door. “What’s up?”
“You look fantastic today,” I said. Good Christ, what the fuck had I just said? “I mean, your art. Yeah, just great. And it’s really good to see you.”
“Right, yeah, you, too.” Veronica shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Georgia pursed her lips, mirth puckering the skin at corners of her eyes.
“I hope I’ll get to see you again sometime. For real. That we’ll run into each other again.” I could give presentations in front of board members and open up at televised charity events but every ounce of speaking prowess had seeped out of me.
“Sure.” Veronica hesitated, opened her mouth, closed it again. “See ya.” She pushed out into the street and scurried away, Georgia tailing her and laughing out loud.
Man, I’d really screwed the pooch on this one. Not only did I look like a stalking loser trying to buy her affection, but now I’d made a total fool of myself. I knuckled my forehead. “Christ,” I muttered.
“It’s not that bad, dude,” said the inept manager behind the counter. He perched on the stool and tossed his head. “Like, she’s hot and everything but she’s one of those artist types. Totally high maintenance, dude. She’s always complaining about –”
I turned my back on the dopey dickhead before I hit him in the face. I’d never been the violent type but hearing him talk about Veronica like that brought violence to mind. Was this what a rebound felt like?
Veronica was the first woman, apart from those who worked for me, that I’d seen since Jayne had ditched me. Could it be I’d latched onto her because I yearned for female company?
No, I’d never needed that before. Why would that be the case now?
I put the questions aside and made for the car. I had a meeting in an hour and an itinerary to plan for my trip to Italy in two weeks. There wasn’t time to contemplate my need for a woman I barely knew, who happened to be my cheating wife’s sister to boot.
Carter Jones had always kept it together. I wouldn’t let the strange thrum in my chest or the thought of Veronica all alone in her apartment stop me.
I spared a glance for her front door as we drove off.