Chapter 42 The Veronica Problem
"You need more pictures of you," I say, still scrolling. "Smiling pictures. Being-human pictures."
"I'm human."
"Again, that's debatable."
He laughs, and I snap a photo of him right as it happens.
"Hey…"
"Too late. It's mine now." I stare at the picture, quickly airdropping it to my phone. "You look so cute."
Lawrence reaches for the phone, and I dodge, scrambling back on the carpet.
He catches my ankle in the middle of a playful kick and yanks me back toward him, laughing.
For a full minute, we're just wrestling on the rug like idiots. I'm trying to squirm away, despite him trapping me underneath him, but I still don't release his phone.
"Let me go," I giggle, wriggling.
"No chance."
His phone suddenly pings, cutting through our laughter.
I bring the screen up, above my face, squinting at it.
"You got a message from…" My smile vanishes.
"Would you look at that… Veronica."
Lawrence notices the way my body tenses under his, and he immediately sits back on his haunches, giving me space to slide out from under him.
I do, rolling to my knees and then standing, my arms crossed over my chest.
"What does it say?" he asks, cluelessly.
I read the preview aloud in a flat, clipped tone: "Thinking of you. I'm here if you need anything."
Then I press the phone into his chest and turn, walking toward the kitchen island just to put distance between us.
He's up and following me before I can blink twice.
"Scarlett, wait. It's not what you think."
I spin around. "What is it, then?"
My insecurity is rushing up. "Who's Veronica?"
He stops a few feet away, his hands raised. "She's the Managing Director of the London office. That's all."
"Right." I laugh. "Because last I checked, 'I'm here if you need anything' is code for 'I'm willing to warm your bed whenever you're lonely.'"
Lawrence exhales through his nose slowly.
"Yes," he says in an even tone. "You're right. Veronica has made it clear she's interested. But I've made it equally clear I'm not."
I cross my arms tighter.
"And you didn't think to tell me?"
"I didn't think it was necessary." He steps closer. "I don't give two shits about the guys in your life." He pauses, then adds, "Not that there are any."
"Hey!"
Lawrence drops his hands to his sides.
"Look…" His voice softens. "Veronica and I have a professional history, not romantic. She invested in Law & Moore early, back when most people thought I was just another overambitious youth with a laptop and a dream."
Yeah, great. More reasons to feel inferior compared to her.
Veronica believed in the company when almost no one else did." Lawrence continues. "She convinced her father to write the first seven-figure check that let me hire real engineers instead of interns."
He takes another step closer. "You have to believe me, Scarlett," he says quietly. "I've never led her on or given her any reason to think there could be more. Whatever she feels…" He shakes his head. "That's hers. Not mine."
Finally, I exhale. "Okay."
"Okay?"
I uncross my arms and close the rest of the space between us. "I believe you."
Instant relief washes across his face.
"But next time some woman texts you offering 'anything,'" I say, poking his chest lightly, "you tell me. Immediately. No secrets. No, it's not necessary.' We're doing this for real now, right?"
He holds my hand, pressing it flat over his heart. "For real," he confirms. "No secrets."
I nod, then lean up and kiss him.
When I pull back, he's smiling shyly.
"Jealous looks good on you," he jokes.
I roll my eyes. "Don't push it, Moore."
He laughs and pulls me to himself.
"I'm starting to reconsider that chess rematch," I mutter against his chest.
"Great. I'm up for it." He says. "As long as I get to beat your out-of-practise self again."
"I'm not out of practice; I was just distracted," I mutter.
"By what?"
I grin up at him. "By how annoyingly handsome you look when you're concentrating."
His green eyes darken in a way I recognise. "Is that so?"
"Mhm." I trail my finger down his chest. "Those little frown lines between your brows when you're thinking.Very distracting."
"Scarlett."
"Yes, Lawrence?"
"Now, you're the one trying to distract me."
"Is it working?" I purr.
He sweeps me off my feet unexpectedly, and I yelp, laughing as I wrap my arms around his neck.
"Rematch tomorrow," he says, his voice rough. "Tonight I have better things to do."
"Like what?" I ask, though I already know the answer.
"Like reminding my very jealous girlfriend that I'm all hers. No sharing."
"Looking forward to it," I murmur flirtatiously, as he carries me to the bedroom.
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Lawrence and I are lying in bed after making love. I'm flat on my stomach, my eyes half-closed, enjoying the slow, firm way his hands massage my back.
"Scarlett?" he calls softly.
"Mm?" I murmur, melting deeper into the pillow.
"I'll be going to London next week to check on my mother."
I suddenly push up on my elbows, pulling the sheet over my chest as I turn to look at him. His green eyes are serious behind his glasses, which he hasn't taken off yet.
"That's good, babe," I say gently. "I was actually going to ask you about it. She needs you right now."
He nods, but the sadness that crosses his face makes my chest ache. For a long moment, he stays silent, subconsciously drawing circles on the sheets.
Then he says in a quiet, nervous tone, "I'd like you to come with me."
My heart stutters hard; I have to sit up fully, holding the sheet to my breasts.
The invitation is bigger than anything we've said so far.
This means everything.
He trusts me enough to bring me into the most private, painful part of his life. To meet his mother. His sister. The people who know the real Lawrence Moore, the one the world never gets to see.
Warmth blossoms in my chest.
Lawrence watches my face and misreads the silence. His frown deepens. "Did I overstep? I'm sorry if…"
"Overstep? No," I cut in quickly, reaching for his hand. "No, Lawrence. I'd be honoured."
His expression softens instantly, and a rare, gentle smile starts to spread across his face.
I lift his hand and press a slow kiss to his knuckles. "I'd love to meet your family."
"I'm glad to hear that," he murmurs.
"There's just one more thing," I add, biting my lip.
He raises a brow curiously. "What's that?"
"You let me resume work later this week."
Lawrence gives me a long, incredulous look. "Never in my life have I met someone so eager to get back to the office after everything that's happened."
I shrug, smiling. "I'm well rested. Physically and emotionally. Don't you think?"
He chuckles under his breath, the sound making me feel all fuzzy.
"I'll think about it," he says finally.
"Think about it?" I narrow my eyes at him. "Fine. Then I guess I'll think about coming to London with you, too."
"You already agreed to come with me," he reminds me, pulling me forward so I'm lying on his chest.
"I can always rethink it," I tease, tracing lazy circles over his heart.
He laughs again, before pressing a kiss to the top of my hair. "You're coming to London. And you're coming back to work when I say you're ready. End of discussion."
I smile against his skin, happier than I've felt in weeks. "We'll see about that, Mr Moore."