Shonee’s POV
“Hello?” Vincent’s baritone voice rang out of my phone’s speakers. “Shonee, you-”
“You paid off my student loans!” By impulse, the words came flying out before I could stop them, and the impact must have startled Vincent because it took a moment before he could respond.
“What?” His voice held a tinge of worry and a huge load of concern. “What are you-”
“You paid off my student loans,” I cut him again. “I just came from the bank and the teller told me that you paid off all my student loans!”
“Yeah, and you’re upset because?”
Frankly, I didn’t know why I was upset. Any other person would be beyond thrilled to know that a four-year debt had been paid off. But I wasn’t. And it was mostly because he didn’t think to consult or tell me, plus his indifference was making my emotions double up in size.
“I’m upset because you went behind my back and settled a six-thousand-dollar debt without my knowledge. That was my business and you didn’t think twice to take care of it without telling me.”
No sound came from the other side and I began wondering if he’d hung up on me. “Hello? Vincent?”
“Where are you?” His voice now carried a certain calmness to it and it made me frown.
“That’s not the-”
“Where are you, Shonee!” Just like that, his tone switched from calm to stern.
“I’m still at Rochester Bank, I’m standing in front of the building right now,” I mumbled.
“I’m on my way.”
“What? No, you don’t need-” Then the line went dead.
Pulling the phone from my ear, my hands dropped to the side. “Oh, Lord!” What was he coming here to do? My earnest hope was that he wasn’t coming to reverse the transaction. “Me and my big mouth,” I mumbled under my breath. Vincent finally did something nice for me and I just had to act like some independent lady who could handle her own finances when in actual fact, I couldn’t… at all.
As I stood there waiting, my mind swirled with a mix of emotions—gratitude, confusion, and a touch of guilt. Vincent had done something incredibly generous, yet I couldn't shake the feeling of unease at the way it had been done. Moments later, I spotted his sleek black car pulling up to the curb.
Vincent stepped out of the car with purpose, his tall frame cutting through the few passers-by as he made his way towards me. His expression was unreadable, but there was a determined set to his jaw that told me he wasn't here to back down.
"Shonee." He acknowledged me; his voice soft yet firm.
“Vincent.” I nodded.
"Let's talk." He jabbed his head in the direction of a nearby Mexican restaurant I hadn’t even noticed.
“Sure.” Uncertain of what to expect as we headed towards a nearby restaurant, I began wondering if I had the right thing confronting Vincent about the payment. Maybe I should’ve just accepted it and kept quiet. But then again, what would that say about me? And what impression would that make on Vincent?
Once seated at a quiet corner table, Vincent spoke first.
“What would you like to eat?”
My eyebrows dipped low. “I thought we came here to talk.”
“We did, but we can’t do that on an empty stomach.” He summoned a waiter who came by with the menus.
After a quick glance, we both handed back the booklet and the waiter scurried off with our orders.
“So.” Vincent casually uncorked a bottle of red wine. “From what I gathered on the phone; you’re not pleased with the fact that I took care of your student loans. Would like me to have the transaction reversed?”
“What? No.”
“Then what’s your problem, Shonee?” He shot me a questioning glance. “Cuz the last time you mentioned the loans at the Grand Opening Event, it gave me the impression that you were struggling to pay them off. So, I figured, why not lend a hand.”
“And I appreciate that,” I jumped in. “But this was my debt, Vincent. It was my responsibility and even though it was extremely nice of you to settle the bill, you should have told me first.” My hands gathered together on the table; my mind lost in deep thought. “My whole life, I’ve been on my own. I’ve always had to take care of myself and it’s taught me to be independent. I’m not used to having people do stuff for me.”
That last part came out as a mumble, but Vincent heard it loud and clear. He laid a gentle hand on mine.
"Since you put it that way, I’m sorry," he began, his gaze steady. "I should have talked to you before taking such a significant step and I honestly apologize for that."
His sincerity caught me off guard, softening my stance slightly. "It's not just about the money, Vincent," I replied, my voice quieter now. "It's about respect and communication."
He nodded, acknowledging my words. "You're right. I should have communicated with you instead of making assumptions."
We sat in silence for a moment, the weight of our conversation hanging in the air. Then, I took a deep breath, gathering my thoughts.
Vincent took the time to pour me a glass of wine and I thanked him for the generous serving. Giving it a mild sniff, hm, pleasantly fruity, I brought the glass to my lips. The rich, earthen texture of the cherry-scented wine nearly had me moaning my satisfaction, but I swallowed it down to avoid any embarrassment.
Vincent still noticed, however, because a grin blossomed on his lips. “Good?”
“Yeah.” Then I cleared my throat. "There's something else I want to talk to you about," I said, meeting his gaze. “I know your financial issues are none of my business, but the confrontation you had with Avril this morning got me thinking about ways you could break out of her hold.”
The waiter soon came by with our orders and I had to pause so he wouldn’t hear our conversation. The last thing I wanted was for someone to find out that billionaire extraordinaire, Vincent Beckham, was having financial problems. The waiter set a plate of rice, tortillas and shrimp in yellow sauce adorned with some chopped tomatoes and coriander leaves before us. The aroma had already activated my taste buds as I picked up my fork.
“So, you were saying?” Vincent resumed the conversation the moment the waiter took his leave.
“Yeah, well,” I swallowed down the food in my mouth. “Me and a friend of mine were brainstorming and I think we came up with an idea that’s going to be super effective. While I was waiting in front of the bank, I ran into Fred. You remember him, right? The guy who organized the Techno Symphony Kids Orchestra.”
“Yeah, I remember him. He mistook me for your husband.” Vincent nodded with a smug smile that had me blushing and at the same time rolling my eyes.
“Anyway, we were talking and he mentioned that the gallery management is looking for potential investors to help expand their digital art installation room. When he mentioned investors, I immediately thought of you. Think about it, investing in this particular section of the art gallery is a great initiative because it has the potential to be something big. It’s the only digital art installation room in New York."
Vincent listened intently as I outlined my idea, his expression thoughtful. When I finished, he leaned back in his chair, considering my proposal.
"It's ambitious,” he finally said. “And a little out of the ordinary for us since we’ve never invested in anything art-related before."
I felt my enthusiasm drop.
“But I believe it’s a great idea, Shonee. And I want to help make it happen,” he added, a hint of admiration in his voice.
“Wa-wait…” I blinked at him. “So you’ll do it?”
He simply shrugged. “Why not?”
A shriek of excitement left my mouth then I quickly clamped it shut, remembering we were in a restaurant. But it was too late. People turned, eyed our table in wonder and I quickly extended my apologies. Vincent sat comfortably in his seat, chuckling.
As our eyes met, relief flooded through me, mingled with love, admiration and gratitude for his unexpected support. Maybe, just maybe, this could be the start of a new chapter for both of us—a chapter built on trust, respect, and shared dreams.
Time seemed to pass in a blur as Vincent and I continued our conversation over, discussing the logistics of the art gallery investment and sharing anecdotes from our pasts. With each passing moment, I found myself drawn further into Vincent's world, captivated by his charisma and intrigued by his complexities.
Before we knew it, the waiter was clearing our plates and presenting us with the dessert menu. As we indulged in sweet treats and shared laughter, I couldn't help but marvel at how far we had come from our initial encounter in the kitchen.
Vincent's presence felt comforting and familiar, like coming home after a long journey. It was as if we had known each other for years, rather than mere weeks. Despite the uncertainties that still lingered between us, there was an undeniable connection that seemed to grow stronger with each passing moment.