Chapter Twenty-One

Riley Lynn (P.O.V.)

After the incident with Vincent's mother, I could not sit still. I wandered around the kitchen, pressed my face against the glass wall in the living room, walked up and down the steps to the balcony at least twenty times, and checked my phone at least one hundred times. I was waiting for it. Waiting for the text from Vincent telling me to get out of his house and give him his money back. He told me to be careful around his mother, but instead, I ended up lying to her that we had sex on the table. 

"Ugh!" I cried suddenly, stopping on the middle step in the staircase. 

Liam jumped and threw me a concerned look from where he was sitting on the couch.

"Riley, come sit down. Vincent is probably going to be here any second." 

I pressed my hands to my cheeks, giving him a horrified look.

"Do you think his mother will sue me for defamation?" 

"I doubt it—" 

"She is probably doing a background search on me right now. Do you think she would put a tail on me? She would not be able to figure out who I am. Wait! I told her my full name! I have a Facebook! Oh man, oh man. I have to deactivate it." 

Liam stood up and came over to the staircase and climbed up the stairs to where I was. I backed up a little, pressing my back against the railing. He reached out and held my forearm, holding my gaze.

"You will be fine." 

"She also thinks I am not good enough for Vincent, huh?" I muttered, low enough so Liam would not hear.

Why else would she have made those remarks? I guess anyone with eyes could see the difference between Vincent and myself. Even if I was pretending to be someone I was not. 

"Stop thinking and calm down." 

I sucked in my lips and made a sour face.

"I am the essence of calm. Except for the fact that I breached the contract between Vincent and myself and he is so going to kill me— or worse, take his money back." 

A crease appeared in Liam's eyebrows.

"How is that worse—" 

Suddenly the front door opened, and I let out a terrified squeak. What if it was Vincent's mother again? Or Vincent? I twisted to escape from Liam's grasp, but only managed to lose my balance. My foot slipped on the wood, and I felt myself fall for about three seconds until firm arms wrapped around my waist. With my head about two inches from the stairs, I looked up at the top step. Through my upside-down vision, I saw Vincent standing there, looking absolutely confused. 

"What are you two doing...?" he asked. 

In a swift motion, Liam helped me straighten out my back. My head spun for a second and I held onto his arm.

"Vincent," I started. "I am sorry. It is okay if you want to end the contract." 

"What are you two doing?" he repeated, jaw tensing. 

"It just happened this way. I am really sorry. I could not help it." 

"Help what? Fooling around with my best friend while I was at work?" he snapped. 

I paused.

"What?" 

He gestured toward Liam and me.

"I was not aware you two were so close." 

"I think you are getting the wrong idea, Vincent," Liam said, grinning a bit.

"We are not doing anything bad here." 

Vincent's suspicious expression did not disappear. "

Why do you want to end the contract?" Vincent asked, averting his gaze toward me. 

"Do you not want to?" 

"Why would I want to?" 

"Your mother..." 

"My mother?" he repeated.

Then his eyes widened in realization.

"Did she come here while I was away?" 

 I nodded. 

"When? What happened? Were you dressed like that?" 

Of course, he would mention my outfit.

"Yes," I grit out. 

He ran a hand through his hair, closing his eyes.

"I should have expected this. What happened? Did she find everything out?" 

"No," Liam answered before I could.

"I told her Riley was a family friend visiting from Paris and I had set the two of you up." 

"Did she believe you?" Vincent inquired. 

"I am not sure. She did not attempt to kick Riley out, if that counts for anything." 

Vincent covered his mouth with his hand, looking out toward the lake.

"Why would she come directly here?" 

"She did insinuate that she thought I was robbing you," I told him.

He did not need to know about her also insulting my looks. 

He groaned.

"It is only because you are wearing my shirt— hold on, why are you wearing my shirt?" 

"I do not have any clean clothing here, remember?" 

He raked his eyes over me slowly and then cleared his throat.

"Oh, right. That is fine then." 

Liam coughed into his hand, and I swear it sounded like a laugh. 

"Can you speak French, Riley? Eventually you are going to have to meet with my mother again now that she has met you once. I will speak to her myself before that then, but just in case." 

I grimaced sheepishly.

"Well. No. I cannot speak French. At all." 

He did not seem put off by my answer, so I assumed he had not expected me to be able to.

"I figured as much," he said unnecessarily. 

"That was my fault," Liam told him. "It was the first thing that came to mind." 

"Did anything else happen?" 

I felt my cheeks warm up and I gave him an innocent smile.

"Well, um." 

His face fell and he braced himself.

"Yes?" 

"I might have said that we have sex on the kitchen table... sort of. Ha ha." 

His ears tinted pink, and he opened his mouth to speak, but I cut him off.

"We are both adults, why does it matter? And she basically told me not to be a slut, so I had to say something back. Not that being a slut is even a bad thing. It is okay to like sex. She should not be interfering in our sex life anyway." I bit my tongue, realizing I was saying too much.

Our sex life?! We did not even have one! 

This time Liam did laugh, and I shot him a dirty look.

"In Riley's defense, her provocative words were in your defense," he said. 

"That is not something my mother would ever need to know," he muttered. 

I scuffed my feet on the floor.

Awkward. 

"Well, we can work on the lie you told her. Riley can learn a few simple phrases in French, and we will get her a proper wardrobe. We will just have to come up with a concrete background. Find out what the top colleges are and maybe we can create a fake degree," he continued, frowning in thought.

"Maybe fix her hair a bit, too. Good thing your car was not here." 

"Yeah, yeah. No problem. I will just change my whole life. Just for you," I said, nodding my head along to his suggestions. 

He pressed his lips together.

"Are you upset?" Vincent asked in concern. 

"No. I mean I guess I should have known not even a part of me is good enough to date you." 

"It is not..." Vincent started but trailed off because yes. Yes, it was. 

I bit my lip to keep from retorting. I had already known I would have to lie to his mother about who I was but hearing just exactly what I would have to change, I felt a little hurt. Was I really that worthless to these people? Were they really on such a different level than me? Did I really look so trashy to them? 

"I am sorry," Vincent said. 

He was apologizing. I did not know what to say. 

"Wow, impressive," Liam said instead, giving him a small round of applause.

"Never thought I would see the day Vincent acted considerate without someone telling him to." Vincent shot him a dirty look, obviously embarrassed.

"I am generally considerate." Vincent argued. 

"I beg to differ," I said. 

"If this is too uncomfortable for you, I will understand if you do not want to continue with our contract," Vincent told me.

"My mother is not pleasant. The women she suggests to me are comparable to herself and that is where my problem stems from." 

Part of me really, really wanted to tell Vincent good riddance and hightail it out, but my kinder side fought with that part. If this was what Vincent was faced with, it was no wonder he did not want to be forced into a relationship with someone his mother chose. His mother seemed to think she was the queen of England. She even had the audacity to accuse me of stealing Vincent's stuff and attack my appearance. Who did she think she was? Was I really going to get scared off by her? I was stronger, than that, was I not? 

"I am still going to help you," I said. 

Vincent looked relieved.

"Thank you, Riley." 

"But if I am going to do this, I am going to do this right. She thinks I am not good enough for you. Make me good enough for you," I continued, feeling my pulse begin to rise. "Your mother is pretty intimidating. So, I guess I will have to become intimidating too." 

My words seemed to surprise him.

"You want me to make you good enough for me...?" he repeated. 

I nodded, squaring my shoulders.

"Yes." 

Liam hummed.

"Then it appears we have some shopping to do." 

I turned to him.

"Are you really going to help?" 

"Of course. If that is okay with Vincent." 

Vincent stared at me; eyebrows crinkled.

"I suppose so, but—" 

"Then I will go get ready." I started down the stairs and then stopped, suddenly remembering something.

Liam and Vincent were both boys... I need a girl for this. Looking over my shoulder, I smiled innocently at Vincent.

"We are just going to have to pick up one thing." 

 Tamia was waiting patiently on the bench in front of café when Vincent pulled up to the shop an hour later. Her eyes widened at his sleek car and when she did not move to get in, I rolled down the window and beckoned her over. She quickly hurried over and slid into the back next to me when I opened the door for her. 

"This is like the Princess Diaries movie," she whispered. 

I rolled my eyes at her.

"Not even close." I muttered.

"Hello Tamia," Liam greeted, turning to face her from the front seat. 

She beamed at him.

"Oh, it is you! From before in the shop. Liam, right? And hi Vincent, nice to see you again!" 

My favorite part about Tamia was that she never allows anyone to feel awkward. She was the type of person that has the ability to make just about anyone feel welcomed and comfortable around her. Even if you had only just met her, she would treat you like her best friend. She could make any situation into a favorable one. And her sense of fashion was impeccable. 

"Hello," Vincent said, looking at her through the rearview window.

He squinted at her a bit and made a noncommittal noise.

"I suppose you will be adequate." 

"Ignore him," I said immediately.

"Just drive, Vincent." 

She grinned.

"I see you two have become a lot closer. Where are we going, anyway?"

"To the Woodbury Common outlets," I told her.

"That way there will be stores that would be able to satisfy both my own tastes and Vincent's mother's tastes." 

"Her tastes are a bit above that," Liam told me. 

"What? But there are brands like, Coach there." He shrugged.

"There are better brands than Coach." 

I drew back, probably creating a double chin.

"Gross. I know I am all for shoving what Mrs. Luciano said down her throat, but I do not want to buy stuff I will never wear either." 

"I am sure we will find something suitable." 

"We will just try to find things that do not have brands plastered all over them. I also need to get some everyday clothing for myself. I am not going to go everywhere in Prada," I said, directing my words mainly to Vincent. 

"You could still replace what you had before with better outfits," was his response. 

I shot him a dirty look and Liam nudged him in the leg. Tamia tilted her head at me adorably.

"Why do you need to replace it, anyway?" 

That is right. I haven't told her yet. On the drive to the outlets, I explained to her what had happened to my apartment and why I ditched out of work and what had happened at Vincent's earlier. Better for her to be in the loop than out if she was going to help us.

After convincing her that I was fine and telling her not to cry since she usually took things to heart easily, she gave me a big hug. 

"Does Luke know?" she asked me. 

"Yeah, I told him." I said, aware that both Vincent and Liam had gone unnaturally still.

Obviously, they were listening.

"He didn't call you did he?" 

"No, why?" 

"Just wondering."

If he did not call her, than whom had he called after he ended the phone call with me? I know that he did not have many remaining friends. 

"Oh! That reminds me. I wanted to tell you today at work, but you weren't there. I was at McKellen's last night and the owner said he wanted to talk to you." 

My ears perked up.

"McKellen's? What did he say? " 

"Not much. Just that he had something to show you." 

"Was it about my brother's car accident?" 

Suddenly Vincent jerked the wheel to the right and my seatbelt locked, digging into my waist. I looked out the window, trying to see if we had hit something, but he hit the gas again and kept driving.

"What was that?" I asked but he did not answer, and I looked at Liam, whose face had paled a bit and lost all humor.

He gave me a slight shake of the head. Confused, I settled back into my seat and did not say anything else. What was that reaction for? Was it something I said? 

"I will tell you about it later," Tamia said, gesturing toward the front of the car.

"Do not let me forget." 

"Okay," I responded.

Maybe it was better that way. I did not need Vincent listening in if it was about my brother's accident. That was something he did not need to know the details about. But what the heck was Liam's look about? 

We arrived at the shops around six o'clock. As we all climbed out of Vincent's car, I realized just what a ragtag group of people we were. Vincent was in a suit, Liam was in a button up and a vest, Tamia was wearing a long-sleeve polo and jeans, and I was in an over-sized t-shirt. I had no doubt no matter what store we went in to, everyone would flock to Vincent and Liam. 

"I guess we should start with stores I would never even go into," I said as we entered the main strip of shops.

What kind of shops did Vincent's mother shop at? Probably nothing here. What would come close?

"Maybe like Gucci? That is popular, right?" 

Vincent and Liam exchanged looks. I narrowed my eyes at the pair.

"Let us stay away from Gucci," Liam suggested. 

"Huh? Why? Is it not popular?" I inquired.

"I do not think you will find it suitable," Vincent said. 

"What about Prada?" 

He pressed his lips into a firm line. 

"Hey, I am just going down the list of brands I figured suburban moms that drive low-end Mercedes would buy." 

This earned a giggle from Tamia, and I struggled to keep a straight face. 

"It is not hard to afford a low-end Mercedes, nor Prada," Vincent said and started walking.

"But if that is what you would like to look at, then let us go. I am sure we could find something there that will work." Vincent stated. 

I quickly fell into step beside him.

"It is not going to be like Calvin Klein, right? Please do not say there are flower pattern grandma prints on everything." 

"That is why we did not suggest Gucci. I also feel like it would make you seem like you were trying too hard." 

"Well sorry." 

"It would be better to get you clothing directly from designers in France, but we will have to settle." 

Prada was settling. My poor wallet was already starting to cry in my pocket. However, I needed to do this. 

"J. Crew will also be a good store for you, I believe," he continued. "I am assuming that what you want is something simple that you can wear as an everyday and a business outfit?" 

"Maybe?"

At this point, I just wanted anything that would make Vincent's mother beg me to marry her son. 

"Their clothing will work for you. Even I shop there from time to time. Not everyone is about what name they are wearing." 

Was he really saying that to me?

"Well, duh," I said a little more harshly than I meant to. 

He looked down at me.

"Were you not just saying suburban moms wear Prada?" 

"Yeah, but—" 

"Just as you are not the chain store clothing you wear; I am not the designer clothing I wear." 

I switched my attention to the ground, feeling like a child who had been scolded. My words had been mostly just for a laugh. Maybe I had put a little bit of my jealousy into them too.

"I am sorry," I mumbled. 

"Riley—" 

"Hey! What is taking you two so long?" I called, turning away from him and waving at the two stragglers behind us.

Liam must have said something really funny because Tamia was basically dying of a laughing fit back there. Seeing her made a lurch of jealousy go through me. She and Liam looked like they were meant to be standing next to each other— even in her work outfit.

Vincent would have had an easier time if he had chosen Tamia over me. I was just childish, sarcastic, and bitter. No wonder Vincent's mother did not approve of me. 

Prada, as it turns out, actually had some acceptable clothing. While still a bit pricey, there were outfits that I would actually wear on display. After trying to go straight for the sale rack and being rerouted to the displays by Liam, I started pulling things I wanted to try on, doing my best not to look at the price tag. Tamia roamed around the store, sometimes coming back to me, and holding a top up to my chest and then throwing it into the pile to try on. 

Picking up a nice trench coat, I searched around to show Vincent, realizing he was busy chatting with one of the sales attendants. Her flirt face was on, and I felt the sudden urge to interrupt them. Wasn't she supposed to be doing her job? And wasn't he supposed to be helping me? 

"Ready?" Liam asked, holding an arm full of clothing. 

I tore my eyes away from Vincent and eyed his haul.

"Are those for me?" 

"Of course. Let us head to the fitting rooms." \

"Wait, do I have to show them to you?" 

"Well, not me necessarily but they do have to get Vincent's approval." 

I had to showcase everything to Vincent. Suddenly I regretted grabbing a pair of leather leggings I had seen and a tiny black dress. 

"Let us go, Vincent! She is ready!" Liam called. 

I hurried to the fitting room, pulling Tamia in with me.

"If anything looks bad, you have to tell me the truth." 

She nodded seriously.

"That is what friends are for." 

First thing was a simple, black dress. It looked elegant, but it was also something I could wear out in town as well. Upon approval from Tamia, I walked out to show the two men. Liam applauded politely and Vincent just stared at me.

"Is it okay?" I asked him. 

"...Yes." 

 I waited.

He did not say anything more. I went back into the fitting room. And that is how it went with everything I modeled. I would walk out and no matter how great I looked; Vincent would just blankly approve. No eye widening, no gasping. No thumbs up. Just a simple yes. I did not know why it bothered me so much— it was not like anything I was trying on was that impressive. Sure, the dresses were nice, but they were rather conservative, and I was not expecting much excitement from jeans and long-sleeve shirts either, but did he have to have no reaction whatsoever? I would have thought maybe this would be fun for him. Yet he looked like he would rather be anywhere else. 

"Wait, I have this," Tamia told me as I was taking off the last outfit in the pile. I looked at the article of clothing in her hands and felt myself smile. It was a mid-rise burgundy-colored, twist dress. Out of everything I was handed, I knew this was exactly what I needed.

It was beautiful and refined.

"This is perfect." I whispered in awe. 

"I thought it would suit you. Put it on!" she said excitedly. 

She helped me zip up the back after I slid it over my body and then I adjusted the belt to make my waist appear smaller. Looking in the mirror, I grinned a bit. Good clothing could really make you feel good. With my confidence sky high, I walked out of the room and into the waiting area. 

"How is this?" I asked haughtily, placing my hands on my hips. 

Vincent was standing by the door now with his back to me, talking to the same saleswoman. I felt my heart fall a little bit.

"Riley, I thought you were..." He trailed off as he turned back around, eyes falling on me. 

"I had one more, but it is okay. I will go get changed," I responded, stepping back toward the fitting room. 

"Give us one second," Vincent told the saleswoman, and she nodded, heels clicking as she left the waiting room. 

I ran my hands over my sides.

"Is this good enough to meet your mother?" 

Once again, Vincent's face did not change. 

"I look good, do not I?" I tried, attempting to sound as confident as I had felt just moments before. 

Nothing. 

I felt my heart pound harder in my chest. I just do not get it. I was doing this for him. Could he not compliment me? Was it that I did not look good? Was I wasting his time? Did it not suit me?

"Do I still look worthless in this?" I demanded, not liking how desperate my voice sounded. 

Finally, I got a reaction from him. His eyes hardened and his posture tensed.

"What did my mother say to you?" 

That is what he had to say in response? That is what he had to say instead of no, Riley, you look amazing.

I did not answer him, feeling my teeth grind as I bit down hard to keep myself calm. I had to get out of this dress and never look at it again. Why had I been so arrogant? How could I ever think I could equal someone like Vincent? 

Just as I made to return to the dressing room, Vincent's hand shot out and grabbed my upper arm, holding me in place. I gave him a warning look and he held my gaze.

"Riley. What did she say?" 

"It does not have anything to do with what she said," I snapped at him. 

"She must have said something." 

I felt my chin tremble and I clenched my jaw harder.

"Let me go. I need to change." 

"Why did you ask me that?" 

"Ask you what? If I look worthless? Is that not what you already think—" 

"No!" he interjected loudly. 

I froze, my voice cutting out. 

"Not once even for a second have I thought you were worthless," he told me, his hand gripping me tightly. 

"I—" 

"Is that why you decided to come here today? To prove your worth. To my mother? To me? I have been trying to figure it out. It is, isn't it?" 

I swallowed.

"Why did you even bother coming? You looked like you would rather be anywhere else the whole time." 

"Because I knew something was wrong. You would not have suddenly decided to come shop for clothing you would never buy for no reason," he replied. "Did my mother call you worthless?" 

"No—" 

"Do I make you feel worthless?" he asked, voice dropping considerably. 

I softened my face. It wasn't surprising he would come to that conclusion.

"No." 

"Why would you ask me that, then?" 

"I am sorry," I apologized for what felt like the hundredth time.

"You should have chosen someone else for this. I am just making it difficult. This is my own stupid ego and my own problem. I should not have pinned it on you like that."

At this moment, I was regretting everything that had happened. I had been way too headstrong after the confrontation earlier. I should have taken time to calm down first. Now I had made Vincent feel like it was his fault. 

His hand slid down my arm and he used my wrist to pull me closer to him. Our faces were only a few inches away from each other.

"You asked me earlier to make you good enough for me. I am the one making you pretend to be someone you are not. I am the one making you feel this way. I am the one who is not good enough for someone like you." 

For a moment, I forgot how to breathe. I dropped my gaze to the floor. He was too close. His cologne smelled too good. His hand was too warm.

"That is kind of cheesy—" 

"Riley," he said sternly. 

I slowly raised my eyes to meet his gaze again. 

"Compassion and loyalty are worth more than wealth. By these standards, you are worth the world." 

"Vincent..." 

"Gather what you are going to purchase," he ordered, letting go of my arm.

"I will pay for them." 

"Vincent," I repeated. 

"When we get back, I will help you find a place you can move into as soon as possible. Do not worry about the contract anymore. I am terminating it. I am sure we can come up with an agreeable cancellation fee." 

His words caught me off guard. So much that while I was still trying to comprehend them, he was already out room. That is when his words finally hit me, and I felt like I could not breathe. 

Vincent wanted to end the contract?