Chapter 85: Shopping, Fame, and a Cozy Night In

The afternoon sun hung high in the sky as Henry and Taryn pulled into the parking lot of the luxurious shopping district in downtown Paris. The sleek, black Lamborghini Revuelto purred as Henry guided it into a parking spot. He glanced over at Taryn, who was practically bouncing in her seat with excitement.

"You look way too happy about this," Henry teased, shutting off the engine.

Taryn shot him a smirk. "That's because I know you hate shopping, and I get to make you suffer. Come on, Mr. Fashionably Inept."

They stepped out of the car, and as they walked hand-in-hand through the mall entrance, Henry couldn't help but notice a few heads turning. It wasn't overwhelming at first, just a couple of lingering stares and hushed whispers. He shrugged it off and focused on keeping up with Taryn, who had already spotted their first stop: a high-end furniture store.

Henry never thought he'd spend so much time in a furniture store, but with Taryn leading the way, it somehow felt less painful. She moved through the showroom like she was on a mission, testing out couches, running her fingers over sleek wooden tables, and scrutinizing the artwork on the walls.

"We need a statement piece for the living room," Taryn said, tapping her chin as she examined a large abstract painting.

"I thought the giant TV was the statement piece," Henry replied, arms crossed.

Taryn rolled her eyes. "You're hopeless. We're getting it."

"Fine, but it's getting delivered because I'm not shoving that into the Lambo."

A store associate arranged for the delivery, and the shopping spree continued. They picked out a coffee table, a new bed frame, and some decorative pieces before heading to the next stop, clothing.

"Alright, Mr. Racecar Driver, it's time to fix your sad excuse for a wardrobe," Taryn announced as she dragged Henry into an upscale men's boutique.

Henry groaned. "I have clothes."

"If by 'clothes,' you mean the same five shirts, three hoodies, and way too many team-issued polos, then sure," Taryn quipped, grabbing a button-up and holding it against him. "Try this on."

Henry sighed but complied, stepping into the fitting room. To his surprise, the tailored clothes actually looked good. He walked out wearing a navy blue blazer over a white shirt and slim-fit black jeans.

Taryn's eyes lit up. "Damn. You clean up nice."

Henry smirked. "I always do."

She rolled her eyes. "We're buying it. And a few more things."

Henry ended up walking out with a few bags filled with outfits handpicked by Taryn, though he grumbled about it the entire time. He swore revenge when they entered a high-end women's boutique.

Taryn browsed the racks of designer dresses, Henry trailing behind her with a satisfied smirk. "Now it's your turn to suffer."

"Please. This is fun for me," Taryn shot back, holding up a sleek black dress against her body. "What do you think?"

"Looks amazing. Try it on."

Taryn gave him a playful eye roll but disappeared into the fitting room. A few minutes later, she emerged wearing the dress, and Henry had to do a double take.

"Wow," was all he managed.

Taryn grinned. "I'll take that as a yes."

Henry bought her the dress, along with a few more outfits, before stopping at a jewelry store on their way out. Taryn hesitated as Henry picked out a delicate diamond necklace and matching earrings.

"Henry, you don't have to..."

"I know," Henry said, clasping the necklace around her neck. "But I want to."

Taryn sighed but smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. "You're impossible."

As they walked towards the exit, hand-in-hand and carrying only a few bags thanks to the deliveries, Henry started to notice something.

People were staring.

A small crowd had gathered near the entrance, murmuring and pointing in his direction.

"Is that Henry Calder?"

"I think so! Can we get a picture?"

Before Henry could react, a few fans stepped forward, politely asking for selfies and autographs. Henry chuckled and nodded, taking a few quick pictures while Taryn watched with an amused smile.

"This is weird," Henry admitted as he signed a hat. "I might actually have to start wearing a disguise."

"Or just get used to being famous," Taryn teased.

The crowd grew quickly, and soon, security had to step in to create a pathway for Henry and Taryn to leave. Henry waved at the fans as they finally made it back to the car.

"Well, that was unexpected," Henry said, exhaling as he revved the engine.

Taryn giggled. "Get used to it, superstar."

Back home, deliveries were already arriving, filling the house with new furniture and decorations. As Henry flopped onto the couch, exhausted, Taryn disappeared into the kitchen.

"What are you doing?" he called.

"Making dinner," she replied.

"You cook?"

Taryn poked her head out, looking offended. "Excuse me? Just because you survive on takeout doesn't mean I can't cook."

Henry laughed. "Alright, alright. I'll believe it when I taste it."

Thirty minutes later, Henry took a bite of the pasta Taryn had made and nearly choked—not from the food, but from shock.

"This is… incredible."

Taryn smirked. "Told you."

They ate together, chatting about their day and laughing about the mall chaos. After dinner, they curled up on the couch, a movie playing in the background as Henry wrapped an arm around Taryn.

"This is nice," Henry murmured.

"Yeah," Taryn agreed, resting her head against his shoulder. "It really is."

As the movie played, Henry closed his eyes for a moment, realizing just how much his life had changed. And for the first time in a long time, everything felt… perfect.