ꜱᴛᴀʏ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ • ʙᴏᴏᴋ ᴏɴᴇ
Follows the lives of six self-proclaimed adults: a witty procrastinator, a smart-mouth with a drinking problem, a crybaby, an overdramatic playboy, a social-recluse workaholic, and an intellectual charmer, as they learn to en...
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Veronica had no idea what she was doing.
It was no different from any decision she had taken, but her gut feeling was in control now, and it was pointing at this place with a glaring spotlight. Everything about this building screamed money. From its outside contemporary architecture, to the expensive chandeliers and extravagant interior. Veronica shrunk under the blinding luxury, wishing she had at least bothered stealing something from Chloe to fit in.
She shook her head, forcing herself to focus. What would Chloe do? At that thought, she pushed her shoulders back and walked with her chin tipped up. She swallowed once she reached the receptionist's desk, who studied her in under a second and her eyes barely narrowed.
Great. Veronica resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Natasha 2.0.
"Hello." Veronica's smile was tight, and the woman schooled a smooth one.
"Good evening. How may I assist you?"
"Yeah, um. I'm here for Elena Durant's art exhibition." She was about to ramble but sealed her lips shut.
"I'm afraid the exhibition has been canceled."
"Oh, I know. I'm just here to take a look. I've been meaning to purchase one of her paintings. I hope it's no trouble."
The woman's eyes took in her appearance and arched an eyebrow. Veronica knew that look. The look that meant to say you? Veronica bit her tongue and the receptionist didn't comment. "Let me see what I can do. Are you on the guestlist?"
Veronica blinked. Her heart swelled to twice its size and she swallowed the sudden panic bubbling inside of her. "Sorry?"
The woman's eyes narrowed. "It's a private exhibition and only a few people were invited. Did you receive an invitation?"
Of-fucking-course it is.
Fuck it. Veronica thought she had nothing to lose.
"I do. I don't have it on me, now. But my name's got to be on the guest list." She smiled, hoping it didn't look awkward, flicking her wrists to keep her voice even.
"Name?"
For a split second, she wished Allen had a gender-neutral name. It would've made it so much easier for her.
"Veronica Walton."
Why bother?
As the woman's eyes skipped through the list, Veronica looked around for a way to escape. She could call Allen. His name was surely on the guest list and he could get them in. But what good use was that? He'd drag her out by her hair. She could use the restroom and find her way around. She could do that...
