chapter thirty seven
florence thompson
song: mine right now - sigrid

It has been one week since the charity event, I've talked to Vincent a total of two times since that night and haven't seen him at all. He's called me twice to cancel both of our dinners, saying something has come up.

Yesterday he'd called me to tell me that he had today free and so he was hauling my ass to a shitty motel and we were going to go sale shopping so he could live a day in the life of an average consumer.

I laughed loudly when he'd told me this, I had honestly thought we would've just left it as a joke a moved on, knowing full well he's always too busy.

When he showed up in his ridiculously expensive car that looked outrageous parked next to my car that looked as if it was lucky to start, I laughed even harder.

"I can't believe you're serious about this," I mumbled, shaking my head as I neared him with my overnight bag hanging from my shoulder.

He grinned this cheesy grin, hands in the pockets of his black dress pants. He was a little less dressy today, ditching the suit jacket and instead deciding on the dress pants and a simple white dress shirt tucked into the belted bottoms. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows, exposing his tan forearms.

I sighed at the sight of him. Both in a dreamy way that I totally shouldn't be and also in an exasperated are you kidding me? We're going sale shopping at Marshalls kind of way.

"I don't know if you know this about me yet, Miss Thompson, but I'm a pretty serious guy." He tilted his head, raising a playful brow as he took my overnight bag from my hands and opened the back door of his money machine before tossing it in and closing the door.

"Are you now?" I grinned up at him, shaking my head slightly.

It seems like I haven't seen him in ages, I'd become so accustomed to our twice a week visits, sometimes even more. My life had felt slightly off-kilter the past seven days and seeing Vincent in the flesh seemed to really pinpoint the reason behind the feeling.

I brushed it off though, reminding myself that I need to un-attach myself from this man that I have become far too attached to.

"The most serious." He flashed a playful grumpy look in my direction before pulling open my door and ushering me in.

I shook my head, the ghost of a smile on my lips as I slid into the car before he slammed the door shut. He walked around the car before slipping into his seat, immediately starting the car before buckling up.

He shifted the car into gear after double checking that I'd buckled, backing out of the parking spot and making a beeline for the main road.

He pulled out his phone, pulling up a webpage before handing it over to me.

"I found a three-star, figured we'd book that?" He offered, glancing over to me as I looked at the device in my hands.

I snorted.

"Three stars," I chuckled, shaking my head. "It has an indoor pool? Oh no, no," I decided, pulling up a Motel 6 and looking over the pricing, which was less than half of the price of the other one.

"3 stars? Not good? Book whatever you want, really. I am after all going for the authentic Florence Thompson experience." He grinned, glancing over at me momentarily before his gaze found its way back to the road ahead of us.

I chuckled, shaking my head as I reserved a night at the shady looking Motel 6. If he wants life on a budget, then life on a budget he shall get.

...Also maybe bedbugs but hey, he asked for it.

"Where to first, Miss Thompson?" Vincent asked, glancing over at me once more as I deliberated in my mind.

I clicked my tongue a few times, thinking over his question before answering. "Marshalls?"

He nodded, reaching over to the touchscreen built into the car and finding the GPS before selecting the closest store. Our ETA was fifteen minutes away, thankfully.

"How was your week?" Vincent wondered aloud, moving his hand back to the steering wheel as his gaze stayed focused on the road.

I gnawed in my lip, thinking over his words.

Well, my week was super weird without seeing you as I'm fairly confident I'm far too attached to you at this point. But, like, no biggie, right?

"Uneventful," I settled for, watching the buildings as we passed. "I'm sure you had a busy week though, with having to cancel our dinners?" I attempted to keep the conversation going, but I realized how bitter it sounded a little too late.

His face fell slightly before he recovered and it moved back into its usual passive state.

"Yeah, definitely a busy week." He nodded, staying as cryptic as ever.

I suppressed my urge to roll my eyes at him. Instead, I just sat there, nodding silently and letting the conversation come to a halt as an icky feeling swarmed in my stomach. My gut told me I don't want to know why he canceled both of our dinners. I know my heart wouldn't be able to handle it if it had something to do with a leggy blonde.

Before I realized it we were pulling into the Marshall's parking lot which was packed due to it being a Friday. People were coming from and entering the automatic doors, smiles on their faces.

Vincent put his ridiculously expensive car into park and it was then that I realized what a contradiction this is.

Vincent De Bellis, owner of the major hotel chain and self-made billionaire parks his annoyingly expensive car in the parking lot of Marshall's.

I nearly laughed at the thought.

"Ready?" Vincent asked, pocketing his keys and pushing his door open.

"As I'll ever be," I responded, unbuckling myself and following suit.

As soon as we stepped foot into the store, cool air conditioning breezed past us. Busy shoppers were bustling around the store with their shopping carts, some just looking around, empty-handed.

I looked up to Vincent at my side to gauge his reaction, pushing my sunglasses up onto my head. He was the absolute most rigid I've ever seen him if we're gonna be honest.

His handsome face was seemingly slightly confused as his mismatched gaze danced over everything in front of him.

"Do you smell that?" He whispered harshly as we began walking through the stoor.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean do you smell that?"

"The candles?" I asked, furrowing my brows up at him and motioning vaguely towards the candle aisle we were passing.

He turned his head on cue, looking at the array of different candles and scrunching his face in some sort of disgust. I bit my lip in hopes to not burst out into ridiculous laughter in the middle of the store.

"They sell candles?" He asked, looking quite puzzled.

I closed my eyes, shaking my head.

"Yes, Vince. Why wouldn't they?" I asked as I continued walking, leaving him to gawk at the candles.

He caught up with a few wide strides after a moment.

"Vince?" He parroted, pointing out the name I'd called him a moment before.

"Vince," I affirmed as I passed by a floral top that caught my attention, brushing my fingers along the fabric.

To be honest, I had just wanted to try the nickname but it felt quite icky on my tongue.

"No one has called me Vince since high school," he commented, a twinge of confusion in his tone.

I shrugged, continuing through the store side by side with Vincent. I eventually pulled him into the men's section.

I am determined to have this man leave the store in completely different apparel than what he arrived in. Partially because I'm dying to see him in casual clothing and the other part is because I know I will not be able to go through this day and take him seriously in these clothes. I cannot picture him standing in Denny's in these business clothes.

"Fifteen dollars?" I heard Vincent hiss quietly and quite dramatically behind me somewhere.

I turned on my heel to find him looking very intensely at a sale sign sat above a rack of t-shirts.

"Yeah," I breathed. "Pretty pricey for...that, if you ask me." I shrugged, looking at the short-sleeve neon flamingo button up in distaste.

"Pricey?" He parroted incredulously, looking at me as if I had three heads.

It was this moment that I realized what a joke today was about to be.

I smiled at him, shaking my head and instead of answering I turned back around and began looking for some reasonable clothes. Don't ask me what exactly fits into that category when it comes to the very extravagant Vincent De Bellis.

I stumbled upon a rack of cheesy sunglasses, pulling a pair of bright yellow oval sunglasses out of the cardboard and turning to Vincent who looked terrified. I reached up instinctively onto my tippy-toes and slid them onto his face before laughing boisterously.

He looked the furthest thing from impressed.

While I was busy laughing so hard I was afraid I was going to fall over, Vincent so kindly picked out a pair of bright red sunglasses and got me when I was least expecting it.

I pushed his hands away, laughing harder.

"You look ridiculous." He grinned broadly, relishing in his payback.

"Probably not as ridiculous as you." I pointed out, cocking my head.

"Mmm." He debated. "No, I think much more ridiculous, actually."

I rolled my eyes, pulling out my phone and opening the camera app. I flipped it to selfie-mode and almost instantaneously laughed loudly. I, indeed, looked ridiculous as all hell.

I pulled the phone back to capture us both in the frame. We were the epitome of ridiculous at this moment in time. Vincent laughed just as loudly when he saw himself in the screen, running a hand through his wayward hair. The sound echoed near my ear, it was hearty and a sound I would never get tired of.

Large hands slipped onto my waist before he pulled me back against him, my back flush to his chest as he bent down slightly still to fit in the frame. My heart nearly lurched out of my chest, his hands making my skin under the cloth of my light t-shirt feel as if it was burning.

We both proudly grinned for the picture as I tilted my head to the left and he leaned down to press his head against mine. The scruff of his facial hair tickled against my cheek as I pressed down on the button to capture the picture.

I smiled at the photo after pulling it up, ridiculous sunglasses still sitting on my face and my body still flush against Vincent's. I knew that the photo was my favorite and would be for a long time.

Vincent placed his head down, his jaw plopping onto my shoulder as he looked at the phone in my hands, I could feel his smile widen on his face as we both stared fondly at the photo.

• • •

q: favorite store to shop at??