“Well it’s about time! Dinner is on the table,” Viola says shuffling over to Vincent.
“I’m sorry to keep you waiting, Nana.”
She rolls her eyes at him playfully. “And you both smell like a horses ass!”
I gasp; she’s so blunt! I scrunch up my nose at her and then giggle and she smiles back at me impishly.
The pork smells heavenly. I’m ravenously hungry and I cannot wait to eat. Just as we are all being served, a long, and melodious chiming interrupts us. There’s someone at the front door, and what an elaborate doorbell. Elizabeth gets up quickly, glances at me with a half smile, and darts off to answer the door, beating Craig, the stoic butler, to the door. He furrows his grey brows, and continues to make his way around the table, serving us our dinner.
I didn’t realize this was his full time job, I thought he was only here for Viola’s party. But apparently they have an actual butler! Or whatever he is. I have no idea why they can’t serve themselves their own damn food. He walks around with dinner on a platter, and I help myself to a generous portion. I hear the clacking of expensive heels tapping against the marble floor.
“Hello again, Vincent. When you’re mother invited me to dinner, she didn’t mention you’d be here,” says a sickly sweet voice.
And I know it’s her, it’s Charlene. I know it before I even look up. I don’t look her way, nor do I look at Vincent. It’s Edmond who meets my eyes, and he looks both livid and embarrassed.
“Oh, good God. Why are you here again?” Viola says grumpily.
“Oh, stop, Viola. You always tease.” Charlene sashays into the dining room toward Vincent.
I can feel the tension coming off of him in waves. I’m irritated that I haven’t had the opportunity to touch up my makeup, or fix my hair. And I’m sure Viola is right; I probably do smell like a horses ass. I really wish I were looking my best for this stupid showdown. I just know she’s going to be Barbie doll pretty.
“Vincenthello?” She says again in that fucking obnoxiously sweet voice.
Vincent sighs, resigned. “Hello, Charlene. This is Lenore, my girlfriend. I don’t believe you’ve met,” he says dryly.
I will not argue with that title today. I turn my head nonchalantly; a sphinxlike smile spreads across my face. She’s tall, thin, has long blonde hair, high heels, baby blue eyes, pouty injected lips. Oh, fuck this bitch. Seriously? Vincent dated this superficial Barbie?
I cock my head to one side, and with an amused smile I run my eyes up and down her body, and chuckle lightly. She stiffens, obviously insulted by my response to her. Yes, I know it’s immature, but apparently that’s how I roll now.
“Charmed,” I spit out. Without taking my eyes off her, I pick up my glass of wine and take a long drink. I flick my eyes towards Elizabeth, and cock my brow at her. What game is she trying to play?
Charlene says nothing. Her eyes are wide as she takes me in.
“Come, Charlene, come sit with me,” Elizabeth purrs. Oh, suddenly she’s friendly?
“You are ridiculous, Elizabeth,” Viola mumbles, but Elizabeth ignores her.
Edmond says nothing. The tension in the room is palpable; it is a living-breathing beast in the room. Elizabeth and Charlene are the only people oblivious to it.
I’m not hungry anymore, the food I was so looking forward to eating sits congealing on my plate. In an effort to seem unaffected, I force myself to take a bite. As soon as I do, it is unbelievable. I am catapulted back to my childhood apartment. To warm fall nights, chopping onions and garlic with my mother and the theme to I Love Lucy trickling out from our fuzzy television set. It’s truly like taking a bite out of the past.
I look to Vincent. He’s uncomfortable and tense. I won’t let Elizabeth do this to him. It’s not his fault his mother is a bitch. I smile a big smile at him, and offer him a bite from my fork.
“This is extraordinary. Just like I remember. Here, take a bite,” I say seductively.
I can play this game, too, Elizabeth.
His lips twitch into a small smile, and he leans forward and takes a bite. He savors it, watching me carefully.
“Oh, right. I almost forgot, Charlene. Did I mention Lenore is Cuban, just like our maid,” there is venom in Elizabeth’s voice.
I know Vincent has caught it. He’s taken aback by his mother’s audacity. Good. I hope he see’s this woman for what she really is.
“She’s our cook, not our maid. And yes, Lenore is Cuban.”
Elizabeth shrugs indifferently.
“We’ll have to make this one day, Vincent. You’re such a wonderful cook. We should ask Conni for the recipe.”
He smiles and nods his agreement.
“Yes, we will. In the new kitchen,” his voice is smooth as marble.
Yes! He’s playing right along with me. I will not let these bitches win. I’m so glad he’s on my side. It’s us versus them. My little Grinch heart grows two sizes inside my chest.
“New kitchen?” Charlene attempts to sound casual, but fails miserably. She’s caught off guard.
“Yes, I bought a house. We picked the perfect one today.” He doesn’t look away from me when he answers her. A warm smile spreads across his face. My insides melt; we are in silent alliance.
Despite the tension in the room, I am really turned on by him, and by our collaborative effort against these two vile women.
“Oh, well I thought you wanted me to go with you? You went without me?” She pouts. Her voice is sticky sweet. She’s trying to make him feel bad? Seriously? We ignore her and continue enjoying our meal in silence. I don’t bother asking Vincent to clarify. If there was any doubt left in my mind, it’s been wiped clear. I know now that Elizabeth is capable of stooping to the lowest levels. I’m sure she did call Charlene the night of Viola’s birthday party, and I’m positive they tricked him into breakfast the following morning.
Edmond clears his throat and takes a large drink from his wine glass.
“So, Lenore, Vincent told me the bad news about your shop. I’m very sorry to hear about it, honey. What are you planning on doing now?”
My face falls, I haven’t thought about it yet.
“I’m not sure, Edmond. I haven’t had the opportunity to think about it,” a tremor seeps into my voice.
“What? What happened to your shop, Lenore?” Viola apparently hasn’t heard. Vincent squeezes my hand.
“There was an accident. It caught fire,” he responds for me.
Viola gasps and tears prick my eyes, I will them to stay trapped beneath my lids. I really don’t want to show weakness in front of Elizabeth or Charlene.
“Shop?” Charlene asks, trying to include herself in our conversation.
I hate her voice. Does she really need to talk like that? So high pitched? Does she think it sounds cute?
“Yes. Lenore worked in a second-hand shop,” Elizabeth says with disdain. She manages to make everything about me sound negative.
“She owned a vintage shop, mother. And she also makes custom clothing, she tailors and restores vintage attire. She’s very talented, and creative.”
I appreciate him defending me, but Elizabeth is not worth it. I pat his thigh under the table. It’s fine, really. His nostrils flair slightly, I can see he is struggling to keep his anger in check.
“Please know we’re available to help you, anyway we can,” Edmond manages to sound sober, and in control. His eyes are full of silent commiseration. He’s sweet, really. I get a brief glimpse of the man he used to be, I can imagine what he must have been like in his heyday.
“Thank you, Edmond, but that’s okay. I’ll figure it out. It took me years to collect all that I did. I’ll just have to start from scratch.It can bea new adventure for me,” I try and sound hopeful, but it comes out flat and melancholy.
I know there are plenty of websites that sell vintage clothes. I only need to dedicate my time to treasure hunting again. Start at the beginning. It can be done. It’s now a matter of figuring out if my sh
op can be rebuilt. If it can’t, then I may have to create an online store until I can find a new location, if I can find something affordable. Geez. There’s so much to think about and consider.
“I think I might know how to help you, Lenore. Are you free tomorrow?”
I look at Viola warily. I’m taken aback.
“Help me how? I’m okay, really. I can manage. I’ll figure it out in time.” I don’t know if I’m trying to convince Viola, or myself. I actually don’t know how I’ll manage. I have no money to build up my inventory. Well, Kazumi owes me for my performances...but that won’t be nearly enough.
“Oh, hush up. You’ll be doing me a favor. I’ll be by to pick you up tomorrow morning. You just be ready.”
“That works perfectly, Nana, I’ll be meeting with the realtor to sign papers at about 9 o’clock, so Lenore is free.”
I look at Vincent with shock and annoyance written all over my face. He’s making plans for me now? What the hell? And Viola, what does she have up her sleeve? How does she plan to help me?
I am truly touched by Viola and Edmond. They’re kind and genuine, and I can see they care and sincerely want to help me, perhaps not for my sake, but out of the love they have for Vincent. I remain quiet. I nod my consent to Viola. My eyes wet with unshed tears. I nearly forgot Charlene and Elizabeth were here. I look up at them, and they exchange a knowing look.
Right. Elizabeth probably thinks this is all part of some elaborate plan to dupe Vincent out of his money. Well she can think what she likes. If Viola plans to offer me money, I will turn her down flat, but it sounds like she has a trick up her sleeve, and I’m curious to know what her plan is. I push the thoughts of the fire to the back of my mind, though I know I can’t do this for long. I need to formulate a plan. I need to get to the bottom of all of this.
I follow Charlene’s gaze across the table. She looks deflated as she stares longingly at Vincent. I almost feel bad for her. I can’t say I blame her for coming here and trying to get him back, even if she is making herself look like an idiot in the process. Vincent is worth it. I don’t understand what he sees in her, or saw in her. She is beautiful, she has a lovely figure…but she’s empty. Her eyes are vacant. Perhaps his mother set them up, forced her onto him. He did mention that their families are good friends.
The jealousy and irritation that was boiling inside of me when she first walked in has dissipated. I don’t think Vincent cares about her; she’s a pawn in Elizabeth’s game. She’s not a threat to me.
We have flan for dessert. It’s eaten under a thick blanket of silence and discomfort. I wish I could find Conni and compliment her on her impressive Cuban cuisine. But I don’t want to push my luck. I want to get out of here. Vincent keeps his arm wrapped possessively around my waist as we make our way toward the front door. Viola has already retired to her room claiming she needs rest because she and I have a big day ahead of us.
Edmond follows us out to the foyer and kisses me goodnight and congratulates Vincent on the house one more time.
“Good job, son. I can’t wait to take a look at your place once it’s all finished. I’m sure Lenore will be a big help, with her creative insight, I’m sure your home will be outstanding,” he manages, his slur scarcely detectible. Poor man. How did he become this person? He’s so handsome. He has the world at his fingertips. Was Walter’s mother’s death what crippled him? Or was it the succubus, Elizabeth?
He and Vincent shake hands. When we open the front door, we see that Elizabeth and Charlene are already on the other side. It’s obvious to me that they’re conspiring.
“Oh, Lenore, you had a sweater didn’t you? Come back in with me to get it.” Elizabeth grabs my arm and hurls me inside before I can object. She wants to give Charlene ample opportunity to try to ensnare Vincent. She can try all she likes. He is mine.
Elizabeth closes the door behind us, trapping Vincent on the other side. She doesn’t look me in the eye. She simply snaps her fingers at Craig.
“Find her sweater,” she says roughly.
Craig shuffles to the closet, peeking around, his head nearly touching the top of the doorframe. He’s tall and broad, and has a slight paunch. He never seems to have anything other than a blank expression on his face.
He finally emerges with my cardigan sweater and gingerly helps me put it on, taking his sweet time.
“Thank you, Craig.” I smile up at him. He nods and walks away quickly. I turn to face Elizabeth.
“You can drop the act,” she growls.
I raise my brows at her. “What act?”
“You don’t fool me, Lenore,” she looks me up and down; an accusation is clearly implied.
I grab the doorknob, “I’m not trying to fool you, and I’m definitely not going to explain myself to you. Goodnight, Elizabeth.”
I won’t allow her negativity to affect me. If she seriously thinks that I would go so far as to burn down my own shop, then she is clearly insane and nothing I can do or say will change that.
I open the door and walk out to Charlene wrapping her arms around Vincent’s neck. I can feel Elizabeth’s satisfied smile burning through the back of my skull. Vincent grabs Charlene by her wrists and wrenches her away, but she leans in and tries to kiss him anyway. Vincent struggles to turn his face away from her. The front door closes behind me with a loud and satisfied thunk.
Not to worry, Vincent. Here I come. I put my hand flat against Charlene’s face and shove her away. Shocked and flustered, she finally backs off. Her fear is evident as I step between her and Vincent. I scoff and shake my head, clicking my tongue at her.
I smile sweetly, too sweetly. She can see the venom in my eyes, and she backs up. That’s right, bitch, back the fuck up.
“It was nice to meet you, Sherry,” I sneer, my brows high.
“It’s Charlene,” she murmurs. She looks humiliated, disheartened, and at a loss for what to do without her coach, Elizabeth.
Did she really think Vincent would kiss her back? Or did she think she could scare me off? I’m sure she was hoping this would cause a fight between Vincent and me.
I turn back to Vincent; he has a look of shock and pride settled on his face.
“Let’s go home, I’m tired.”
Vincent can’t suppress his grin, “Of course, Lenore.”
We turn to walk towards the Merc and he drapes his arm around my shoulder.
“Goodbye, Charlene,” he adds apologetically, looking over his shoulder.
I put my hand into the back pocket of his slacks and give him a squeeze. Poor Charlene, she doesn’t seem like a bad person, desperate maybe; but not evil like Elizabeth. She should find someone nicer to spend her time with.
Vincent opens the car door for me and we drive down the long and narrow private driveway in silence. Vincent reaches over and squeezes my hand, reassuringly. I gaze into his eyes, and then my composure slips, and we double over in a fit of laughter.
“Thank you, Lenore. You handled that stupidity quite well. You’re a fierce little thing you know that? You surprise me.”
“Surprise you how?” I wonder.
He regards me for a moment, and then turns his eyes back to the road, growing serious.
“When we first met, you seemed very…unsure of yourself. I had you all wrong,” his supple voice is laced with wonder.
I narrow my eyes and look out of the passenger window. He’s right. I was unsure of myself. I still am, though this new part of me, the Lenore I have always dreamed I could be, is surfacing more with each passing day.
“I think it’s you. You empower me,” I whisper. I keep my eyes down. I can’t bear to look him in the eye. I’m afraid of what I’ll see, and what I’ll feel. The car is idling; the road before us is empty and clear. It’s as though we’re alone in the world, not another soul is stirring.
I feel him looking at me, but I can’t face him.
“I feel the same way, Lenore,” he breathes.
I finally look up and into his blue eyes, made viole
t in the dying light of dusk. I slide closer to him, pressing my body against his, and rest my head on his shoulder. So many unspoken words and feelings circle loudly around us, but they remain unsaid, for now. He places his large warm hand on my thigh, and we make our way down the road.
Chapter 21
I wake early. Silver-hued light seeps into the room unfiltered. I smile warmly at the memory of last night. All of the trivial nonsense from dinner was completely forgotten once we arrived at Vincent’s loft.
I discovered that while we were out house hunting, Vincent had the loft stocked with clothing, makeup, hair tools and everything in between that Vincent deemed a necessity. I was boiling with anger, I didn’t ask for his help after all. And knowing that his mother thinks this is exactly the type of thing I’m expecting from Vincent makes me even more reluctant to accept his generosity. I felt railroaded, but when I looked into his expectant eyes, I realized that he is doing this because it makes him feel good. He isn’t trying to buy my love or go against my will. Noit makes him feel good to do nice things for me. I’m sure if he knew of anyone who was experiencing hard times, he would do the same for them. Though, he did go way over the top. His definition of necessity completely contradicts what I believe.
Vincent is swathed around me. His heavy limbs drape over me. I wiggle and stretch. He squeezes me tightly before letting me go.
“Good morning, beautiful.”
I scoff at him. I am hardly beautiful when I wake in the morning. He hasn’t even opened his eyes yet, thankfully. I get up and pad my way over to the bathroom. A brand new toothbrush awaits me. I smirk, and pick it up, dousing it with toothpaste. I brush my teeth and run my fingers through my hair. I apply a bit of makeup to my face. I look too pale. Must be the stress of the last few days. Thankfully there is blush in my little makeup kit, the perfect shade of pink for my pale skin. Maybe Vincent hired a personal shopper. Everything, my underwear, clothing, and makeup, is just right for me! I wonder if he showed them my picture or told them about me, because it feels as though they knew my exact taste. Elizabeth would die if she knew of this.
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