“I expected nothing less.” Nick handed over the cup and a saucer. “How is Mr. Coleman doing these days?”
“Upset.” The spoon clinked gently against the side of the cup as Veronica stirred her tea. “With me, mostly. He’s convinced that if I’d done my job and convinced Luciano to fall desperately in love with me by now, Enrica would be on his side.”
“What about Ochoa’s sons?”
“Too many of them. I could have won one of them, but the other two could still go after you and upset any alliance I managed to secure.”
“Same with Hoffman, I guess.” If there was anyone else in the world who knew what it was to be nothing more than a pawn to be taken, it was Veronica Coleman. “I’ve given the decision to my father.”
“Smart. It might save you some of the worst of Oscar Ochoa’s come-ons, at least.” Veronica sipped her tea before rolling her eyes. “He courted me for a month before our fathers had their latest fight. Two years ago now, I think. He paid his assistant to bring me a dozen roses a day with cards that had my name spelled wrong.”
“He apparently didn’t pay his assistant enough. You’re allergic to flowers.”
“Mmm. When he found out you’d have thought I’d developed the allergies just to spite him.”
“He must have inherited his father’s legendary sensitivity.”
“Ladies of the world, beware.” Veronica set her saucer on the table and placed her teacup on top of it, fidgeting with it until the handle lined up perfectly with the edge of the table. When she finally looked up at Nick again, her expression was guarded. “With the exception of Hoffman’s youngest, who’s barely nineteen, Luciano’s the only tolerable one in the bunch.”
“I don’t want him, if that’s what you’re asking.” But Veronica deserved the truth. “My father will probably choose him, though. I hope you understand.”
Veronica’s sadness was tangible. “I’m not in love with him. I don’t think it would be hard to love Luciano, but I know better. That sort of thing is a liability for women like us.”
The only time love hadn’t felt like a liability was with Derek. Nick shoved back the memories. “Can I tell you something?”
“Of course.”
“There’s a man back home in New Orleans. He’s been a wolf for about two years now, and I…” She took a deep breath. “I left him. To come here.”
“Oh, Nick.” Veronica leaned forward and held out her hand. “I didn’t know, or I wouldn’t—I wouldn’t have…”
“That wasn’t my confession.” She set down her cup and saucer so they wouldn’t rattle as her hands shook. “The thing is, I’d convinced myself I wouldn’t have to do this. That I would never have to come back and be part of this life. So you’re smarter than me, Ronnie. You figured this shit out a long time ago.”
“No. I just didn’t have the courage to fight them. I was never as strong as you are.”
As if that strength mattered. She’d left her home and the man she loved, because nothing could spare her the responsibilities resting on her shoulders. “It doesn’t matter now. That was…another lifetime.”
Veronica covered Nick’s hands with her own and lowered her voice. “What can I do to help Michelle? I’ll tell my father whatever you want me to.”
The plan was in place, and it was a good one. Foolproof. “Tell him that I’m miserable, and that my father’s having the devil’s own time keeping me in line. And that—that I refuse to marry for anything other than love.” Maybe Noah Coleman would at least feel vindicated by her suffering and be too distracted to cause problems.
“Can I also tell him Oscar Ochoa has a snowball’s chance of winning you over?” Veronica smiled. “They might be the truest words I’ll ever speak to him.”
Nick almost laughed. “Whatever else you choose to add is fine with me.”
“Good. Now, while I’m here, I wanted to apologize for not having a chance to meet your friend yet. Marcus, I think?”
“Marcus Talbot, yes. Did they assign you Eddie’s case?”
“They did. But it’s low on their list, and I wasn’t in town anyway. My mother was sick. I’ve been in Atlanta for the last two months helping her get back on her feet.”
Nick’s father had told her Noah still wanted a son so badly his wife kept getting pregnant though she’d been advised not to. Her latest pregnancy had ended in a late-term miscarriage. “I was sorry to hear about it, Ronnie.”
Veronica closed her eyes, but not fast enough to hide the tears. “My father likes to make his opinion of the women in his life clear. Do you know what he said to me when he asked me to come over here?”
“No, I don’t know.” She didn’t want to. The look on Veronica’s face was heartbreaking enough.
“You’re going to steal Luciano from me. In my father’s mind, that trumps the fact that we grew up together, trumps friendship, trumps everything.” When she opened her eyes, there was anger there. “I’m a grown woman with a law degree, and he doesn’t credit me with a single thought of my own besides getting a man.”
The whole truth was so much more insidious. “He isn’t crediting Luciano with much, either, if he thinks he could be so easily swayed.”
“He will be,” Veronica replied quietly. “Just like I’ll end up marrying one of them even though I don’t want to. That’s the privileged fate we were all born into, Nick. Money and power and whatever life our parents think best.”
Her tea had cooled, but Nick didn’t care. Her stomach had knotted into a cold, hard ball anyway, so she set the cup and saucer down again. “And I thought I’d gotten out. See, Ronnie? Stupid.”
“Not stupid. Hopeful. You had the guts to get out. I wish I had.”
“You still could.”
Veronica shook her head. “Michelle is your hostage. My mother is mine. She failed to provide a suitable heir, and he’s never going to let her forget that.”
Nick fought a shudder. “An awful lot of blackmail and arm-twisting for a supposedly civilized people, isn’t it?”
“My mother likes to say it’s how we all stay civilized, by twisting arms instead of tearing them off like we used to.”
It was a good rationalization. “The old way’s more honest. You always know where you stand with someone who’s trying to rip off your arm and beat you with it.”
“You can say that because you’re strong enough to tear off arms.”
“An excellent point.” Nick rose and walked to the window overlooking the park. “Want to go to Cedar Hill? Hide under Glade Arch like we did when we were kids?”
Veronica laughed. “I was going to go shopping and find an appropriate dress to wear to the Ochoa dinner tonight. I’ve been told business professional will not be tolerated.”
“I don’t own anything appropriate. Not anymore.” Nick turned and smiled weakly, reluctant to give up one of the few friendly faces left for her in the city. “Can I come along?”
“Of course. You can help me pick out the frumpiest, most unflattering dress on sale in New York City.”
Nick would have loved to employ the same trick. But she had to play her role to the fullest, and that involved looking sophisticated but demure, attractive but modest. “Come on. Let’s go.”
Chapter 16
Derek dropped a stack of dirty dishes in the sink and indulged himself with another quick peek out the back window. Kat was safe enough roaming the backyard with Mackenzie keeping her company, but it wasn’t her physical well-being that concerned him anymore.
Kat and Mackenzie were sitting on the old-fashioned swing Derek had helped his father build as his first wood-working project. His heart ached a little as he watched Mackenzie wrap an arm around Kat and pat her shoulder. Whatever words she spoke were too soft to be heard this far away, but Kat offered a small smile in response.
He turned away from the window. “Mac seems to have bonded with Kat on your adventure to Georgia.”
“Kenzie knows what it’s like to wake up one day and realize you can kill people without expending a hell of a lot of effort.” Jackson leaned back in his chair. “Speaking of, how’s Andrew been?”