Chapter 13

Kelcey

“Kelcey, your girlfriend is making a fuss.”

I almost dropped the phone—she’d said it right when I was standing on one foot adjusting the strap on one shoe, and I fumbled and fell onto the couch. “Girlfriend? I don’t—Veronica’s not—we’re—I don’t have a girlfriend. Who do you mean? I don’t know. I think you might be… what?”

Lucy’s voice down the line sounded like she was enjoying herself. “Your mind did go straight to Veronica, so I’m going to assume things are going okay.”

“No—they’re, um—I’ve never, uh—Veronica? I don’t know why you ask. You mean Veronica Preston?”

“No… a different one.”

“Oh.” I gave the phone a weird look. “I’m not going anywhere with a different one.”

Lucy paused. “So, where are you going with that one?” she said cheerfully, and I almost dropped the phone.

“What? Her? Nothing. Nowhere? What do you mean? I, uh… huh?”

“Going out for dinner?”

“It’s lunch.” My heart dropped. “Lunchtime. Not dinnertime. Why would you say dinner? I don’t, um… we’re not going out anywhere.”

“A lunch date’s more casual. Good call. Don’t want to dive straight in.”

I hunched my shoulders, hugging myself and pouting at the phone. “It’s not a date… I just want to talk to her. Figure this thing out. I mean… a lot of things. Anyway—that’s not important! What kind of fuss is she causing? What’s happening?”

“Apparently she’s hellbent on getting you back on the video project. The project manager at ECR said some very nicely coached things about the outreach coordinator with the important sway on the project being insistent that it was Kelcey Huntington or nothing… he was trying to use nice, soft language, but it’s pretty clear what he’s getting at is Veronica has the project files and she’s holding them hostage until Kelcey is back. ”

“Oh my god, Veronica.” I groaned, putting my head in my hands.

“And from his measured tone around the current situation, I’m pretty sure aforementioned outreach coordinator described Christopher Beckham in the harshest language possible.”

“Christopher? What’d he do?” Guy seemed perfectly lovely. Pretty quiet. Reliable enough even if he needed project deadline extensions a lot.

“Honestly, your guess is as good as mine,” she said idly. “Probably his sin was replacing you.”

I sighed, slumping back. “I told her she doesn’t need to do this…”

“It’s not the worst,” Lucy laughed down the line. “Might help us get the sway to win Berg over to some reason. But, uh… you do understand how much of a conflict of interest this whole thing is, right?”

“I mean… I’m very conflicted in how much I’m interested.”

“That too, but not like that. You know if it came to light why Veronica is doing all this, it raises some… ah… eyebrows. Draws some scrutiny.”

I scowled at the phone. “I mean, says the one who topped Anna in her office while she was still provisional office head above you.”

Lucy was quiet for a good three seconds before she said, “So, you, uh, you were still hanging out in the office.”

“I was coming to ask you two something but you seemed like you’d rather wait until another day.”

“Hm. Well. I think you read the situation right.” She cleared her throat, and when I heard Anna’s voice in the background, Lucy muttered something to her about I’ll tell you later. I was sure she would. “Okay, well,” Lucy said, “point taken. Guess I’m no one to throw stones. Think of it more as a, uh… a tip from someone who’s been there. You’ll have to be careful if you go dating Veronica right now.”

“Um—” So much for being cool. “I’m not… we’re not dating—I’m not dating her. We’re just going to talk.”

“Well, enjoy talking, and if it turns into something more than talking, then… be careful. Just don’t rush anything. Patience is a virtue. And it’s not one of Veronica’s virtues.”

“I… I’ll be careful. And it’s just talking! I’m not so easily suckered in, you know. I’ve learned a lesson or two. I might have even learned three! Just you wait and see.”

“I believe in you,” she said lightheartedly.

“Tell Boss Anna I said hi,” I said, standing back up, and Lucy said something away from the microphone for a second before she answered.

“She says hi, Kelce, be careful around my sister. ”

“Psh. Sure. She’s like eighty percent still just fixated on whatever you said you’d tell her later because you’re blushing thinking about it and she knows what that means.”

“Hm.” I knew that very polite, very restrained tone in her voice. “Well, you have such a carefully imagined picture of the situation, I’d hate to contradict it.”

“Mm-hm. That’s all. Okay, I’m going to go… talk to someone now.”

Still, after I’d hung up and gotten out the door to go down the stairs and climb into my car, I couldn’t deny the jittery nerves I had all through me. And the fact that I’d been thinking the same thing… that I really wanted to just call this a date, to believe Veronica really had changed, to take her word, to let her have me.

But I’d been burned so many times before. Maybe it was a sign of something that Veronica had been the one burned this time.

Zayn’s was a cozy little sandwich shop on a quiet city block under rows of trees dressed in light dustings of last night’s snow, and I ducked my head against the drifting flurries blowing down from the roof, wrapped my scarf tighter around my neck, and hurried into the warmth of the interior, and I couldn’t help myself from sweeping my eyes over the place immediately, my heart beating faster. When I saw Veronica sitting at a table next to a tall, thin Christmas tree, tapping her fingers anxiously on the table as she looked at her phone…

She was so nervous. About meeting me? If I believed everything she’d said yesterday, about how much I meant to her and how much she was feeling around us—around this—then it made sense. But… there was no way any of that made sense. This wasn’t a fairytale. Someone like Veronica Preston didn’t suddenly turn around a hundred eighty degrees just because she liked me.

But when my stare got a little too intense and it must have prickled her awareness, and she looked up, meeting my gaze across the café, I couldn’t help but think there was no faking that reaction—the way her pupils dilated a little, her breath visibly catching, the slight tilt in her brows as they came together and arched up, looking at me like I was some kind of miracle.

I told her she just wanted me when she couldn’t have me. Was that seriously all there was to it?

I could not go doubting my own convictions two seconds after I’d made them to Lucy.

I smiled and waved across the room to her, and she softened into the sweetest smile that was just all the mushy heart-melting things in the world and waved back, and I pointed at the Christmas tree and mimed throwing her into it. She looked between me and the tree and shrugged as if to say guess it can’t be helped, miming being thrown towards it, and I stifled a giggle that turned into a “whoops” when someone bumped into me from behind and I realized I was standing in the doorway playing charades with my ex from across the room. I’d officially lost it.

I stopped at the counter to place my order, and I was bouncing with excitement the whole time waiting for the moment when I got to walk over and sit down with a nervous rush across from Veronica, who’d dressed up just a little bit for this. I’d dressed up a lot, but that was just… me. Still, with her perfect smoky-eye makeup done and a nice, silky red blouse, she had me seeing stars.

“Okay, admit it,” I said first thing, “how early did you show up?”

“Not throwing me into the tree after all?” she said through a brilliant smile.

“I am if you dodge the question! You’ve got three seconds to answer before I activate power mode.”

She blushed, looking away, but she kept her chin up and a defiant little smile playing on her lips. “I got here just a second before you did.”

“Oh my god, you’re a liar,” I laughed. “Okay, I’ll imagine it was like two hours and you can correct me if I’m wrong.”

“It was less than two hours,” she said in that polite, measured tone that said it was less than two hours but more than a second. I’d let her sit with it.

“I hear you’re, um… causing a fuss. With ECR and Lakeshore. And, um… with Christopher?”

“Filthy lying cheat of a man Christopher fucking Beckham,” she said lightly. “Is more or less what I told Danielson… I was going to have Anna apologize to him on my behalf once this was done.”

I laughed. “Veronica… do you even know the first thing about Christopher?”

She tented her hands, smiling brightly at me. “I know that he took your spot, and that’s completely unacceptable.”

“It’s not his fault,” I laughed.

“I know. That’s why I’ll apologize. But he still did it, and that’s why I won’t apologize until after it’s done.”

I hung my head, stifling laughter. “You are… nothing if not a strong force of will. I’d been thinking you’d changed so much I didn’t recognize you, but… that’s the most Veronica thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Here’s another thing that’s just as Veronica,” she said through that playful smile she did where it tugged more at one corner of her lips than the other, her eyes smiling before the rest of her face. “I’ve been working there for six months… I feel like I’ll lose my mind if I keep going. So I threatened to walk out if they didn’t get you back on the case—”

“Oh my god, Veronica—”

“—but I’d already had one foot out the door anyway, emotionally at least.”

I squeezed my hands on the table, trying to be upset but secretly or not-so-secretly glowing a little on the inside. “I told you… I don’t want everyone else taking care of me.”

She shrugged. “I’m the one who got you into this mess… I’m not looking at it like I can rescue you from it, but I want to at least be able to help fix the problem I created.”

I sighed, looking down. “You know, I, uh… our conversations helped me a lot too. As me and Nic. You always knew the right thing to say and you always made time and space for me.”

She tried to stay cool, but I could see her reactions—the tightening in her throat, a subtle swallowing motion, and she looked down at her hand, inspecting her nails, to distract me from the color creeping into her cheeks. “Worked out well for me, too. I’ve gotten into looking at pretty setups for charcuterie boards after seeing how nice yours are.”

“Oh my god, stop,” I laughed, swatting her hand playfully across the table before I’d really realized it—just the small, casual gestures like when we’d been together. They came so easily it was scary. I guess this meant now I could invite Nic to come try the charcuterie boards with me. It was just a matter of whether I should. “I’m not gonna pretend I wasn’t looking up all kinds of inspirations online trying to impress…” Speaking of should , I probably shouldn’t have been talking to Veronica about how much of a crush I’d had on her as Nic too. I guess it was obvious, and I’d given her an opening, but she didn’t take it, just smiling brightly.

“They were impressive,” she said. “You should have had yours on those pins. They looked better than some of the ones I saw floating around in highlights.”

“Oh, psh. Now you’re just trying to flatter me.”

She grinned. “I haven’t even started with that. Don’t tempt me. Could even start talking about how cute your manicure is, because I can tell it’s fresh and I know how you love showing them off.”

I giggled, flashing my nails at her. “That’s right! I got all polished up for…” In a daydreamy fantasy that I’d meet Nic and I wanted to be pretty for her. Guess I did meet her. And she did think I was pretty. “For, uh, getting semi-fired. I mean, they were due for a retouch anyway, just some awkward timing.”

She glanced down at her nails. “I’ve just had these ghastly things for a minute now… maybe it’s time I get them done again. What should I do with them?”

“Um, something Christmas themed, obviously. ‘Tis the season.”

“‘Tis.”

I faltered. “So… did you order anything?”

“Order?” She stirred out of looking at me, turning her gaze back to the counter. “Oh, yeah. Damn, I’m kinda famished. I’d forgotten where I was.”

She’d been so engrossed in staring at me that she’d forgotten she was at a sandwich shop. That wasn’t what you did if you just saw someone as one-night-stand material, was it?

Of course, I’d thought that the last time too—that she seemed so serious, that she seemed to really mean it this time.

“Well, count on me to remind you about food,” I said lightly. “It’s kinda my thing.”

“You’re kinda my…” She stopped herself, scrunching up her face, and she flushed, standing up. “Sorry. Please forget I said anything. I’m gonna go order. Do you want me to order anything for you?”

I didn’t know how to process shy blushing Veronica. “I already ordered, Vee.”

“Oh. Damn, I was checked out. All right, I’ll, uh, I’ll be right back.”

I’d meant to come here and talk serious things, but it was hard to focus on serious anything when Veronica was sitting across from me with that glow in her eyes that was so nostalgic, mixed with something I wasn’t used to seeing—that unabashed sense of… adoration. Like she’d have been happy to spend her days doing nothing but sitting there staring at me.

I didn’t hate it… I didn’t think I’d ever felt so— important , in all my life, as I did when she was looking at me like that.

I was checked out hard too, because I didn’t even notice they’d called my order or that Veronica was coming back to the table until she slid back in across from me with my order in hand, a French dip sandwich with thick-cut fries.

“Oh, god, thank you,” I said. “I forgot I ordered.”

“Mostly, I’m just glad to know I’m not the only clueless one here.”

I beamed, relaxing back into my seat. “If you’re clueless, then I’m clueless. What’d you order? I’m not starting until you have yours too. It’s only polite.”

“Turkey breast farmhouse style, with baked sweet potato fries so I feel healthy, an extra-large order so I don’t feel too healthy. For real, though, you should eat while it’s hot. You appreciate food too much to let it go to waste.”

I stuck out my tongue. “I’m one of those ‘foodie’ people who gets excited over a new kind of balsamic vinegar, is what you mean to say.”

She laughed, resting her elbows on the table and just— looking at me again in that way that unleashed a whole butterfly garden in my stomach, looking like nobody in the world had ever been as in love as she was. “You are one of those foodie people who gets excited over a new kind of balsamic vinegar,” she said, just like she’d said once before, but this time she said it like it was the greatest thing any human being had ever been. I fidgeted with a flush prickling my cheeks.

“Psh… don’t tell me you’ve gotten into infused balsamics too.”

“The mango-infused balsamic drizzle from the independent market is really good on vanilla ice cream.”

She’d even taken to trying infused balsamic vinegars because I liked them. Oh my god. What if I was living in a world where I got to go out with Veronica Preston and try new foods together with her? And I just hadn’t realized it?

“I can’t believe I suckered you in with that,” I laughed, and she made a face.

“Honestly, me neither. Sometimes I catch myself being like ooh, black-truffle-infused olive oil, and I’m like… I don’t know what’s happened to me. Anyway, eat your food so I get to tease your for how you managed to get dip on every part of you while you eat.”

“Excuse you!” I laughed, pushing the fries towards her as I picked up my sandwich. “Try one. That way I have moral ground to steal a million of yours.”

“You drive a hard bargain, but I’m susceptible to your negotiation tactics,” she said, sliding a fry out, and I settled into a big bite of my sandwich, immediately dripping dip straight onto—of all places, my cleavage. I slapped at it like I could just pull the dip off of my clothes, and Veronica laughed, handing me napkins. “Well on your way,” she said.

“Wouldn’t want to let you down,” I said, dabbing at it, and when she didn’t make a comment or even look —she very pointedly kept her gaze away, looking at where they were finishing up her order, there was part of me that prickled with that feeling like wait, does she not like my cleavage? I pushed it as far away as I could, because I was not supposed to be out here wanting Veronica Preston staring at my boobs.

We made comfortable small talk once she’d gotten her food, trading banter back and forth like we’d never been apart for a day, slowly settling in past that nervous barrier until she was able to make me snort-laugh again, even though I also choked on French dip when I did, which only made me laugh more while coughing violently, and Veronica looked at me like I was actually about to die.

But die I did not, and somehow we passed by a whole meal without me getting to the serious topics I’d intended on. But what I did manage to do was prove Veronica right, because by the end of it, I had dip all over the lower half of my face, and I’d wiped it off of my collar and chest about a million times, and Veronica laughed as she handed me another bundle of napkins once I finished the sandwich.

“You’re keeping the napkin industry afloat,” she said lightly.

“It is not the first time I’ve been told that. I don’t even know how I manage to get my whole face covered,” I said, wiping myself down, and it wasn’t until it had left my mouth that I realized how much that sounded like an innuendo, and I winced. Veronica just smiled as if I didn’t accidentally make any comments about getting my face covered in juices.

“It’s just a sign it’s good food. You’re much tidier when the food is garbage and you’re just eating it to be polite.”

I would have bet every dollar I was ever going to make in my lifetime that if I made a comment like that about juices running all over my face in front of Veronica, then I’d never hear the end of the dirty jokes. If she even thought of the innuendo in it, she didn’t let it show. Was I just dirty-minded? I could not be the dirty-minded one here in front of Veronica. That implied I was thinking about Veronica in ways I didn’t… need to be right now.

Or maybe she just didn’t find me sexually attractive. It would be easy for her not to make any innuendos about me if she wasn’t interested in me like that. That—probably should have been a good thing, right? I didn’t want her to just value me for my body or as a quick fling. And it was a good thing! And there definitely wasn’t any part of me that prickled like hey, c’mon, don’t you like juices dripping on my face and my chest. Not one part of me thought anything like that. Maybe one, but it was a very small part.

Maybe I was sexually boring and that was why she was different around me now. And maybe I shouldn’t have been caught up thinking about that.

“You okay?” Veronica said, her expression softening. “You have that look like something’s bothering you.”

“Nothing’s okay. I’m bothered. No. Other way around. I’m okay. Nothing’s bothering me. Just… um.” I had a handy out. I needed it, with the way my face was burning. “I just—realized I’d invited you here to talk serious things and all I did was gossip with you and eat sandwiches.”

“And fries. Mostly mine.”

“And that.”

She laughed. “Sorry if I distracted you. Do you want to throw me into the Christmas tree to make up for it?”

“That’s too cliché now. Maybe I’ll try some other kind of Christmas offensive. Tie you up in lights.”

“It’s important to mix things up, keep it fresh,” she laughed, and I scowled.

I definitely shouldn’t have made a comment about tying her up, but she wasn’t even going to react to that? Oh, god, she really wasn’t sexually attracted to me. That was… good. Right? Yeah.

“What?” she said, raising her eyebrows, smiling inquisitively. “You’re giving me that squinty-eye look again. Thinking about what other Christmas decorations to beat me up with?”

Oh my god, Kelcey, stop thinking about ways to make her want you naked, I had to tell myself. What a weird thing to go thinking anyway. I’d explicitly complained to her about how she’d only wanted me around for my body! Now that she didn’t, I was upset?

Maybe I just wanted someone to want me in general… to want me around as a person and to want me in ways beyond that. Kelcey Huntington, ever the fickle one, I guess.

“Thinking about what to do now,” I said, my voice quiet, and I turned to the window. “You said you’re trying to be better. I said I am too. What do you suppose that… looks like? For both of us?”

She studied me for a long time before she relaxed. “Good question. I’m still working that out. In fact, I, uh… I kind of wanted to ask you.”

I blinked at her. “How so?”

She looked down. “What’s wrong with me?”

I stared for a good three, four seconds before I said, “You don’t enjoy food enough to get it all over your face?”

That was also a setup for a sex joke. She didn’t take it. “All right, so there’s one thing. I’m trying to learn how to enjoy and appreciate food more.”

“I was just teasing you,” I laughed. “You don’t have to be a foodie just because I am!”

“I know, but…” She blushed a little, looking out the window, scratching her head. “I, uh… I think it’s cool that you are, so I’m kinda trying to see what you see.”

Why were the most romantic things in the world suddenly coming from Veronica Preston? Sweet and sentimental and open with her feelings and didn’t want to have sex with me. What? “Well,” I laughed after a second like that, “you’re doing pretty great so far, actually. That spiced hot chocolate was amazing.”

“Okay, true. Chocolate is always going to be good, though. But I mean—” She shrugged, drawing herself tighter, pointedly not looking at me. “I know I’m messy and… I dunno, toxic. Irresponsible. I want to be better. Not just to have you, but because it’s… I don’t know, the right thing to do, I guess. So… you’re the person I hurt the most. If anyone’s going to have personal criticisms of me, it’s you. I want to hear them. Unfiltered.”

My heart beat faster, a nervous knot tying itself in my stomach, as I studied her carefully. “Veronica… I’m not the authority on what being a good person looks like.”

“Someone you have in mind who is?”

“Well, no, I guess not. Just…” I shrugged, looking down. “I think the only person who can decide what that looks like for you is—well, you. Everyone has their own ideas of what’s good and what’s bad, and if you try to meet everyone else’s, I think you just end up meeting no one’s.”

“Yeah, but I don’t—” She caught herself, pursing her lips and taking a long breath. I shifted in closer, and I didn’t realize what I was doing until I’d put a hand down on top of hers.

“Tell me. I think it’s important to say it.”

“Bossy again, huh?” she said, a playful edge in her voice this time.

“Mm-hm. Now do as I say.”

She looked down and mumbled, a soft voice, barely there. “I don’t really care what everyone else thinks, I care about what… you think.”

Ah—dammit. My heart missed a beat. It was a miracle it didn’t miss all the rest of them, too. “What?”

She didn’t say anything, a flush creeping in over more of her face. My breath felt tight.

“Veronica—you can’t just… invent a personality for yourself around the tastes of someone you like.”

“I know. Just—you probably have some very valid criticisms to make… of the personality I do have. So… I would like to know,” she mumbled. “I don’t really care what criticisms other people have, but I trust… you have a good read on the situation.”

I didn’t have a good read on anything, especially not this situation. I found myself staring at her for a while, and I only remembered my hand was on hers when I squeezed it softly. “That you were… too afraid to be seen caring about something.”

She paused, and she glanced at me from the corner of her eye, a nervous, hesitantly hopeful expression on her face. “That I was? ”

I broke from her gaze, looking down shyly. “Might have to put in more time to figure out where you are on that now. You seem to, uh—be making some progress.”

She gave me the sweetest smile that had ever been given, and I melted, just a little bit. Despite my best efforts. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Sweet-talker,” she said, and I laughed.

“Coming from the expert.” I took my hand off of hers, and I stood up, a nervous feeling bubbling in my chest. “I didn’t get to give you the stern talking-to I brought you here for. Let’s go do it over a charcuterie board.”

The glimmer of unrestrained excitement on her face, just for a second before she caught herself, was the sweetest thing I’d ever seen. “You don’t mean one of yours. I’ve been spending ages now wishing I could sample them. Plus, you always seem to need a little help finishing them… always a cracker or two left on them when I check in.”

God, I knew I was in love with her, but did it have to be like this? Did she have to be so… just… perfect and sweet and lovely? With no way for me to know if it was real?

I’d just told Lucy I’d be careful. I wasn’t breaking that promise already.

Hopefully I wouldn’t in, like, an hour either.