Assess the situation, identify the problem, then figure out how to fix it. Easy.
But what did you do when your sorority sisters were convinced you’d stolen thousands of dollars from an envelope you were supposed to be safeguarding? When, even after you’d sworn you hadn’t, they’d turned their backs on you and reported you to both their parents and the cops? As chapter treasurer, Vero had been an easy target to frame, but it hurt that a house full of business majors who were supposed to be her friends had been so quick to believe she could actually be guilty of the crime.
Vero chewed on her lip, praying Ramón wasn’t calling her mom.
She tried to eavesdrop as she waited for her cousin, but he’d closed his office door and kept his voice too low for her to hear. All she managed to catch were a few words of an apology—that it was only for a few days because his cousin needed a place to stay. There had been a few murmured instructions involving a spare key before he disconnected.
She bristled a little at his burdened tone, her irritation at her cousin warring with her guilt. She hadn’t known her cousin was seeing someone. She hadn’t intended to show up and upend his living arrangements. And now whoever was sleeping in his apartment was being displaced in the middle of the night because Vero had somehow screwed up her life, and it hadn’t even been her fault.
It wasn’t the fact that Ramón was sleeping with someone that took Vero by surprise. Her cousin was objectively attractive. After all, they’d both favored their moms, so much so that as kids, Vero and Ramón were often confused for siblings as well, with matching heads of thick, wavy hair and lean, athletic builds. Growing up, Ramón and his best friend, Javier, had never been without an entourage of admirers. It wasn’t unusual for Ramón to date, but none of his flings that Vero knew of had lasted very long. He’d been too focused on finishing trade school and the dream of starting his own business to risk getting sidetracked by the demands of a serious relationship.
Now that she really thought about it, Vero couldn’t remember the last time Ramón had been involved with someone. At least, no one serious enough to stay overnight in his apartment while he’d been stuck at work. That level of trust implied more than a casual fling, and it needled Vero that Ramón hadn’t shared this piece of his life with her. But also that she was withholding so much more from him.
Until now, there had never been a secret Vero hadn’t confided in her cousin. Probably because until now, she had never had a reason to feel ashamed.
“Ready to go?” He wedged a file folder under his arm as he locked the door to his office behind him.
Vero set down the socket wrench she’d been absently fiddling with. “You didn’t have to kick your girlfriend out of your apartment. I could have slept here.”
“No, you couldn’t.” He shoved her gently through the door to the lot where his tow truck was parked, bolting both locks with a pointed look at her. Going to school with Ramón and Javi had been like growing up with two overprotective big brothers. Which was both endearing and annoying; she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself.
“I could have killed you with a screwdriver back there,” she reminded him. Ramón rolled his eyes, not even bothering with a comeback. The Ramón she’d known before he’d opened his own shop would have gloated, asking if she would have demonstrated these kick-ass moves before or after he’d beaten her within an inch of her life with the baseball bat before realizing who she was. This Ramón only sighed, checking to make sure the file of tax forms and receipts under his arm was secure as he walked her to her car. “Look,” Vero said, “if you’re worried about me telling your mom that you’re living with someone and your apartment has become a hotbed of sin, you can relax. I have no plans to tell Aunt Gloria about any of this… You don’t either, right?” Vero hesitated beside her car as he held the door open for her. She really, really didn’t want to have to explain to her mother (who would inevitably hear the news from her aunt) that she had dropped out of school. Or worse, why.
“We’ll discuss it tomorrow.Allof it,” he added. He reminded her to stay close behind him before shutting her inside her Honda then waiting to make sure she locked her doors before getting into his truck. His headlights flared on, blazing a clear path ahead of them, and she followed him home like a damn lost puppy. Tomorrow, he’d expect her to tell him the truth. He’d listen to the rattle in her voice and try to diagnose the problem.
But this wasn’t a problem her cousin could fix. This wasn’t a problemanyonecould solve. Not even Vero. All she could do was throw in the towel and start her life over. And tomorrow, that’s exactly what she would do.
Chapter 2
Vero roused first to the sound, then to the smell of coffee brewing. Her right hand smacked into one arm of her cousin’s sofa as she stretched. Her left foot kicked the other arm, and her back and shoulder ached as she opened her eyes. A quick glance at the clock on the microwave in the kitchen told her she’d slept only six hours, yet somehow she felt more rested than she could remember feeling in a long time. Her bed in her sorority house had been comfy enough, but sleep hadn’t come easily these last few weeks since the treasury money had gone missing from the zippered bank deposit bag she’d kept in her bedroom. She’d spent most of her days since looking over her shoulder while trying to ignore the nasty notes slipped under her bedroom door.
She peeked out from under the thick knitted blanket she’d found lying on the back of the couch last night, a pattern she’d recognized immediately as her Aunt Gloria’s handiwork. The apartment wasn’t so bad for a bachelor pad, she thought to herself. Sunlight poured through the uneven slats of a set of plastic blinds, revealing the dull gray carpeting and imperfections in the aged linoleum in the kitchen across the hall. It was tidy, if she wasn’t being too critical. The walls needed a few passes with a Magic Eraser and the baseboards could use some dusting, but the kitchen looked swept and there were a few vacuum tracks still visible in the carpet. Ramón wasn’t a total heathen—Aunt Gloria never would have allowed it. Still, there were no throw pillows, area rugs, or cute lamps to liven up the place. Not a single potted plant or even a poster to speak of. The walls were as bland and bare as she imagined they’d probably been the day he’d moved in three years ago. A distinct aura ofbruhhovered over everything, and she guessed whatever woman had been sleeping over lately hadn’t been a fixture here for very long.
The coffee pot gurgled and sputtered in the next room.
Vero threw off her blanket in search of caffeine, padding to the kitchen wearing the same sleep-rumpled T-shirt and yoga pants she’d shown up in last night.
A sticky note had been stuck to the counter:Gone to work. I’ll bring something home for dinner. See you at 6. Be ready to talk.
That was not a conversation she was looking forward to.
She opened the fridge, then the pantry, frowning at the breakfast options. Judging by the contents of her cousin’s cabinets, he’d been spending far more time at work than at home.
She poured a mug of coffee for herself and carried it to the small dinette by the window. The file Ramón had brought home from the garage lay in the middle of the table, probably forgotten in his rush to get to work. She opened it, not bothering to feel guilty for nosing around in his business. After all, he would be all up in hers later on.
She shuffled through a stack of his receipts, skimming his Schedule Cs and profit and loss forms as she sipped. Her nails mindlessly tapped the tabletop, running over the keys of an imaginary calculator as she did a little math in her head. No wonder Ramón had been stressed. Her cousin was good at a lot of things, but accounting clearly wasn’t one of them.
She searched his kitchen drawers for a pen and opened the calculator on her phone, sorting through his expenses and deposits one by one, losing herself in the tidy, neatly compartmentalized boxes—in the assurance of knowing exactly what numbers to put where. By the time she finally looked up at the clock, three hours had passed, her cousin’s tax forms were done, and a dribble of tepid coffee was all that remained in the pot.
Vero’s stomach grumbled. She opened her backpack, looking for her wallet, careful of the broken glass that had collected at the bottom after she’d tossed her bag through Ramón’s window last night. She counted her cash—$325 wasn’t much, but it was enough for breakfast and a fresh start.
She showered and changed, smoothing the wrinkles from a pair of slacks and a blouse she’d fished from a bag in the back seat of her car. Then she brushed her hair back into a sleek dark ponytail, meticulously applied a conservative shade of lipstick, and dusted on some neutral eyeshadow. She frowned down at the chipped purple polish on her toenails, which were long overdue for a pedicure. No matter. She would have plenty of time (and money) for that after she found a job.
She slipped her feet into a pair of sensible closed-toe flats and grabbed her keys. Veronica Ramirez may have cashed out her bank account and run from the law, but Vero Ruiz was about to make a deposit on a brand-new life.
Vero waited for the manager inside the small local bank with theNOW HIRINGsign in the front window. This was it, the window of opportunity she’d been looking for—a career in her chosen field. A foot in the door. She may not have a degree, but she was built for this. She could start small as a teller, work her way up the ladder. Become a wealth advisor or a portfolio manager. She could already see the title on her nameplate:VERO RUIZ—INVESTMENT BANKER.
With a belly full of bagels and a shiny new phony driver’s license in her wallet, she filled out the forms on her clipboard. Fortunately for Vero, Dimitri Papadopoulis, her former high school classmate, was still selling fake IDs out of his mother’s basement, and for an extra fifty bucks, he had agreed to meet her on the Virginia side of the Potomac River bridge to deliver his overpriced masterpiece. It probably wasn’t official enough to get Vero out of a speeding ticket, but hopefully it was convincing enough to open a checking account and get her a job.
