Riley Lynn (P.O.V.)
I was not sure if I was more weirded out by the fact that he was here, or that he remembered my name. I glanced at the young man he had come in with and realized it was the same guy Vincent had been with at the restaurant a week prior.
What was his name again? Nathaniel? Nathanielson? Like from The Last Song?
"Uhm, Hannah Montana?" I said aloud, eyeing the light-haired man. His expression became confused, and Vincent quickly put a hand to his mouth, disguising his laugh as a cough.
Realizing what I said, I felt my face warm up.
"Wait, sorry! I did not mean to say that. I meant to say Liam. I was just thinking of The Last Song."
"It is okay," Liam said, smiling a little bit.
"I am pleased that you remembered my name, actually." He stated chuckling lightly.
Was it weird that I remembered his name?
Probably. I was just as strange as Vincent now.
"I have not met a Liam before, that is why," I covered.
Vincent smirked.
"Have you met a Vincent before?"
"Most likely," I answered, his smug look annoying me.
He immediately dropped it and folded his arms over his chest. After brooding for about point-five seconds, he glanced around the shop, now seemingly interested in it. I followed him with my eyes as he walked over to the painted mural on the wall, then to one of the wooden tables, and then finally to the marble counter.
Tamia stood behind it, near the register. She shot a bewildered look at me, and I gave a slight shake to my head as if to say I have no idea what is happening. She brushed her bangs out of her face and smiled hesitantly.
"Um, would you like something, Mr. Luciano?" I narrowed my eyes at her.
Mr. Luciano?
Why was she being so polite? This guy barely looked older than us.
"Your phone number?" he responded smoothly.
Tamia became flustered and I did my best not to roll my eyes. Liam shook his head a little bit, but he was smiling.
"I will actually have an iced coffee. Black, please," Vincent said before turning slightly so that he could rest his back against the counter.
I thought he kind of looked the type to drink black coffee because he was all business-like and strict.
Tamia went off to make his beverage and I walked over to him, my arms still in my apron.
"What are you doing here, anyway?" I asked. How had he known I worked here?
"I came to see you," he answered.
"Why?"
He pushed himself off the counter, closing the distance between us. When he was about five inches away, he stopped. I caught my breath a little, uncomfortable with our proximity. The scent of his cologne wafted in the air between us.
It smelt good.
A very woodsy smell.
"You did not call me like I had expected you to," he stated simply.
I looked into his dark eyes and swallowed nervously. His presence almost felt overbearing.
Clearing my throat, I took a step back.
"Was I supposed to?" I asked, feigning confusion.
"I left you a note." Vincent stated.
"Yes, a very weird note," I told him, pulling it out of my pocket and handing it to him.
"Do you not remember? Or were you too drunk?"
Brows furrowed, he smoothed out the wrinkled paper and skimmed over it. I waited for his reaction to the tip amount, but his face did not change.
"I was worried that I did not leave a tip, but I see that I did."
"What is with the forty-three cents though?" I asked because I just could not help myself.
"I like for a flat dollar amount to be taken out of my bank account."
Well, that kind of made sense. However, I did not understand why he was not in shock over the total. Like, how could he be okay with that amount?
"Yeah, I have been meaning to return it to you."
"Return it to me?"
"You were drunk, you must not have known what you were doing. I have not spent any of the money," I promised him.
"I will return it to you right now. Let me grab my checkbook—"
"Oh, I do not want it," he interrupted, shoving the receipt back at me.
"Do as I said and take it as an advance." He said nonchalantly.
I paused, staring at him like he was crazy.
"An advance? For what?"
"Being my girlfriend, obviously."
Wait, he was being serious about that? It was not just a joke? Or part of his drunken stupor.
"Excuse me?" I asked him incredulously.
"I have your coffee, Mr. Luciano," Tamia announced, gaining the attention of the dark-haired man.
He turned and gave her a handsome smile.
"Thank you."
"Woah, wait a second." I turned to Liam, who had taken a seat at one of the wooden tables.
His head rested against the wall and his hands were folded across his lap as he watched us amusedly.
"Is your friend crazy?" I asked him.
He chuckled a bit and shrugged.
"Maybe."
"I am not crazy," Vincent said, taking a sip of his coffee.
I did not miss the slight grimace on his face.
"I am only being sensible."
"How is giving me ten thousand dollars and asking me to be your girlfriend sensible?" I demanded.
Vincent must be off his rockers and like every typical, sensible girl being asked out by strangers I said, "I do not even know you."
Vincent seemed a little unsettled by my response.
He pressed his lips into a flat line and tsked.
"Well, this is not what I would expected."
I really wanted to throw my hands up in the air and tell him he was out of it, but I refrained.
"Will you please just take back your money and leave?"
"Unfortunately, I am not willing to leave until we have a deal," he told me, walking over to the table which Liam was at and taking a seat opposite of him.
"Excuse me, Miss? Do you have cheesecake?" Tamia pointed at herself, and Vincent nodded.
"We do," she responded immediately.
"I will bring you over two slices. Um, would you like anything?"
This time she directed her question to Liam.
"Please. Hot coffee, regular cream, and extra sugar."
I wanted to tell Tamia not to get them anything, but they had become paying customers, so I could not. I felt like I was the only one unnerved by the situation.
Sighing lightly, I went behind the counter to get their pastries.
"What is going on?" Tamia whispered to me as soon as I was close enough.
"No idea," I said.
Her eyes suddenly grew wide with excitement.
"How are you being so cool about this? If Vincent Luciano asked me out, I would faint."
I wanted to say that there was no way he was just asking me out. There was a reason for it. On the strange note he had left me, he had stated that we could help each other out but with what exactly, I was not sure.
I decided that would be my first question for him.
After plating two slices of cheesecake and covering them with strawberry, I returned to the two young men, placing the dishes in front of them. Then I dragged a chair from a different table over and took a seat.
"How did you know I work here?" I asked. "Why did you come?"
"I am here because you did not call me like I wanted you to and I found you by calling your other job," Vincent answered easily.
He picked up a fork and cut off a little bit of the cheesecake, inspecting it for a moment before putting it into his mouth.
"It has been frozen," he said, making a face.
"Excuse me but in case you have not noticed, we are a coffee shop, not a pastry shop," I told him, a little irritated by his reaction.
Maybe he was not used to anything that did not cost more than twenty dollars apiece.
Now that I think about it, I will have to confront Michelangelo's about releasing my private information to just anyone who asks for it. That was rather wrong of them to do and pretty dangerous if you asked me. I was going to have to say something to the employees at Michelangelo's. You aren't supposed to give out information on any employee, and yet they had given mine to Vincent.
Just then Liam tried to take Vincent's plate away, obviously fine with the pre-frozen cheesecake, but the latter pulled it out of his reach.
"I will still eat it. Better to not waste food. Riley, why didn't you call me?"
"Why would I?" I asked him.
He gave me a look as if to say who wouldn't?
This made me almost roll my eyes. Must he be so egotistical all of the time?
"We can help each other out. I have been explaining this to you for the past ten minutes."
"Yes, but how?" I pressed.
I have no idea what I could possibly do for a man who has everything already.
"You said you needed money. I have money. I need a girlfriend. I personally think you are a girl…a perfect girlfriend for hire," he spelled out, pointing his fork at me.
"As I said, we would make great business partners." I stared at him blankly.
"I am not sure about the kind of person that you may be, or how you grew up, but you cannot just buy me."
Vincent frowned a little at me.
"I think you have me mistaken; I am not buying you. I am offering you money in exchange for services."
"Like your very own prostitute?" I exclaimed with my eyes wide open.
Was this guy serious? Did he not see what was completely wrong with what he was asking of me?
"No, not a prostitute, just my girlfriend," he amended. "Just for six months. All you have to do is show up to a few parties with me, take some pictures with me, and act the part. No need for any sexual favors."
I stared at him blankly, yet again, and he stared back at me, unblinking. His face showed no hint of humor. He was actually serious about this. I could not believe it.
"Why?" I inquired.
He sat a little straighter in his seat, smoothing out his shirt.
"Various reasons, but mainly so I would not be forced to marry a stranger of my mom's choosing."
"So, you are telling me that your brilliant plan is to pretend to have a girlfriend? What good will that do?"
Also, I was pretty sure you couldn't force someone to marry anyone else, but I did not say anything. I know nothing about the weird life of the wealthy. Who knew what went on in the Luciano family?
"My mother has given me six months to find someone I am interested in and so I figured that if I find someone, pretend to date them, say I have fallen in love with them, and then have them break up with me, I can claim I am too heartbroken to move on," he explained in a rush, not even pausing to take a breath.
His lips curved up a little and I could tell he was proud of his plan. Speechless, I once again turned to Liam to gauge his reaction. His eyes were lit up with enjoyment— like this was the best thing he had seen in a long time. He obviously knew how bizarre his friend was being but was not saying anything to stop him.
"Er... okay," I finally said.
Vincent's eyes never left my face, and I bit my lip.
"So, you want me to pretend to be your girlfriend, so you do not have to get married?"
He nodded.
"And why me?"
"Right place, right time?" he tried, giving me a hopeful grin.
"I mean you caught my interest and I felt slightly responsible for having you suspended from your job. I should not have told you to punch Trevor."
I grimaced at the memory.
"No, you did right there. That pig deserved it."
Still, the month of suspension was complete bullsh*t. I was lucky I had a second job to try and scrape by with.
Vincent leaned toward me.
"Let me make it up to you. Be my girlfriend. It will only be for six months. I will pay you as I see fit."
While the idea of being paid to date someone made my skin crawl, I was curious to know just how much money was involved. The coffee shop did not give me many hours. I would barely be able to make it by, even with my savings.
"Okay, let us say that I might do it—"
"Perfect! Let us start with the fine details," he cut in, searching for something in his pocket and pulling out his phone.
"Wait, I did not say that I agree yet," I said, holding up my hands.
"There is a lot to think about."
He gave me an expressionless look.
"Is there? Why? I am good-looking. I am successful. I am wealthy. What more could you need from me?"
Well, he definitely had the confidence to back up his looks. That is for sure.
"Does not it sound weird to you at all? I mean it does make me feel a bit cheap."
"Listen, Riley," he started seriously, his gaze piercing into mine.
"It is just for six months. Just think of it as two friends helping each other out."
"But..."
There was no way I could agree to this. No matter how much I thought about it, I could not allow myself to stoop to such a low level. I had to uphold some kind of dignity.
"I will pay you ten thousand per month."
I blinked.
"Huh?"
"Not bad, right?" he asked cheekily.
Ten thousand for each month? So, in six months that was sixty thousand? That was more than I could make in four years!
Was he serious?
Who was I kidding? He was completely serious. That much money was probably chump change to him, but to me... Silently, I bid farewell to whatever pride I thought I wanted to hold onto.
"So, what are the terms?"
Vincent grinned broadly at my submission.
"Let us discuss them, shall we?"