Shonee’s POV
The second Fred took his leave, I heaved out a breath I didn’t even realize I was holding.
“I didn’t know it was such a bad thing to be called your husband,” Vincent voiced out with mockery lingering in his tone. “The way you were so quick to shut it all down.” 
“It was a mistake, Vincent.” I turned to him whilst rubbing my temples. “Can we please let it slide and forget that even happened?” I didn’t want him getting any ideas or even sensing that I was attracted to him. It could jeopardize everything.
My frazzled and disturbed state only amused him more because his thin lips expanded. “Sure.”
Just then, a waiter passed by with a tray of champagne flutes and Vincent plucked two of them, passing one over to me.
“Thanks.” I took the glass from him, downing half of the sparkling liquid in one gulp.
“Although, there is something that I can’t let slide,” He interjected my moment of peace and I found myself frowning out of curiosity.
“What is it?”
“Why didn’t you tell me that you schooled here? In this university?”
My shoulders shrugged. “Cuz it’s not important. You’re a billionaire, why would you care about the university the nanny went to?”
“I care because said nanny is taking care of my daughter and she brought her here to perform in a grand opening event,” Vincent replied. “There are over a dozen art galleries in New York, but you chose to bring her to this one. Why is that? Is it because of the familiarity?”
“Well…sort of,” I paused, trying to find the right words. “My college days weren’t my brightest. I had to struggle a lot to get by every day and this was the only place that provided some sort of stability in my life. Plus, I was able to make some cash here too.”
“Really?” He quirked up a curious eyebrow.
“Yeah, I had some paintings here that were on display, and they were sold out for huge bucks.”
“Then why are you still drowning in student loans?”
My head snapped in his direction, and he blinked at me, awaiting an answer. I must admit, I was a little bit surprised that he knew about my student loans. But then I remembered that I shouldn’t be. Avril probably told him about it.
“I’m drowning in loans because…all the money I had, I used to take care of my mum.” I hesitated a bit before continuing. “I was in my second year when I found out that my mum had stage four stomach cancer. It was as if my whole world had come to a standstill. I never knew my dad and the only person who has always been there for me was slowly slipping away and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.”
The tears threatened to flow out and though I was doing everything I could to hold them back, some still managed to seep through.
Vincent handed over his handkerchief and I thanked him. “I used everything I got, everything I had to take care of my mum…but she didn’t make it.”
“I’m so sorry, Shonee. I didn’t know.” A warm hand touched my back, and he slowly pulled me into his arms, rubbing soothing circles. Honestly, if I had the chance, I could revel in this feeling all day; his satisfying touch, the lilting smell of his cologne. But it soon occurred to me that we were in a public setting. With the advent of technology these days, it would only take one click from someone’s phone to capture this moment.
Realizing this, I immediately pulled away, keeping my eyes down.
“Are you ok?”
“Yeah,” I nodded. “I-I- just need to use the bathroom.” With that, I walked off, hoping no one saw anything. Tonight was about Mirasol, not me.
As I made my way over to the bathroom mirror, blinking back the remainder of my tears, I pulled up my make-up kit for a quick touch-up.
For some strange reason, Fred’s earlier mistake replayed itself in my head and I began wondering what it would feel like if Vincent was actually my husband. My gaze flew down to my hand, picturing a huge diamond engagement ring and a glamorous wedding band on my finger. They would probably cost ten times whatever I’ve earned in my entire life. I also wouldn’t be wearing this dingy gown, and my hair would be in a more sophisticated updo. 
‘Snap out of it!’ My subconscious scolded. ‘You can’t be thinking about stuff like that when Vincent is engaged. He’s getting married to Avril, meaning there can be absolutely nothing going on between you two. Get that in your head!’
‘You’re right, you’re right!’ I thought, holding the sink for stability. ‘I can’t be entertaining thoughts like these. They won’t get me anywhere.’
Just then, my phone buzzed, and I pulled it out of my purse.
Vincent: Hey, you ok? The performance is about to start.
“Oh shoot.” Gathering up the last of my belongings and checking my make-up for the last time, I walked out of the bathroom and into the gallery where everyone had moved to the Techno Symphony section. Prof. Clinton stood in the middle of the interactive panels, giving a speech and right before her the kids from the orchestra were seated in a semi-circle, facing their conductor. I could see Mirasol seated in front of her colleagues, ready for her violin solo.
My eyes searched for her father in the crowd as Prof. Clinton neared the last few sentences of her speech. I had almost given up when the smell of a familiar cologne hit my nostrils.
“You didn’t reply to my text.”
I turned to find Vincent at my side, concern lingering in his eyes.
“You had me a bit worried.”
“Sorry. I was in such a hurry to leave the bathroom that replying just slipped my mind.”
He nodded, dark eyes roaming in search of something, and because I couldn’t stop my face from heating up under their intensity, I turned, focusing all my attention on the kids who sat poised and ready to begin their performance.
After introductions were taken care of, the performance began.
The conductor raised the baton, and the room hushed in anticipation. The lights dimmed, and the first notes of the Techno Symphony echoed through the gallery. The kids, with their instruments, embarked on a musical journey that seamlessly blended classical elements.
Simultaneously, the digital art installation in the background came to life, responding to the music in real time. Vivid colours danced across the interactive panels, creating a mesmerizing visual representation of the music that wowed the audience. The music soon mellowed down, and the spotlight shifted from the entire group to the little girl seated in the middle.
The first notes of Mirasol’s violin solo resonated through the space, delicate and pure. Her tiny fingers moved with precision over the strings, producing a sweet and enchanting melody that echoed in my heart. It was unbelievable how a little girl of her age was this talented.
I bet her dad is beyond proud right now. And just as the thought crossed my mind, Vincent’s hand brushed mine, sending a wave of goosebumps up my skin.
I quickly pulled away, and luckily, Vincent was too enraptured by his daughter’s performance to notice the effect his fleeting touch had on me.
As unnerving as this whole situation was, I couldn’t deny it. The pull of emotions was undeniable, but the rational part of my mind urged me to maintain the professional boundaries that were crucial to our relationship.
Vincent and I cannot happen. Not in the slightest bit. And as I took in a deep breath, I forced myself to focus on my responsibilities without letting personal feelings complicate things further.