“Jesus, that was awkward.” Sparrow let out the breath she had been holding in. She felt as though she had dived into the depths without an oxygen tank, only to have to struggle to the surface, unsure of whether or not she would get there in time.
A waitress with wide hips walked up with a smile on her lips. She placed the stack of pancakes between them and filled their two mugs with coffee before winking at them and walking away.
Vincent sat back, cupping his black coffee between his hands. He watched as Sparrow shovelled four pancakes onto her plate and then smeared butter over the steaming pile. The aroma was intoxicating, but he was more interested in the company and conversation than the food. “I was hoping to spare you. I hadn’t seen him in a number of months and was sure he would still be in Paris with Meredith. She is opening a new gallery and I couldn’t imagine her letting him out of her talons while she is so stressed.”
The thought of a stressed Meredith strutting around barking orders at people caused a chill to run down her spine. “Jesus.” She repeated.
There was something in the way Vincent’s eyes watched. If he were looking at a client, his eyes were powerful. They exuded confidence and demanded respect. When he looked at his son, there was question. His eyes shone with the curiosity of someone seeing something for the first time. When he looked at Meredith they were practically seething. She often wondered what his eyes looked like when he first saw her, when he used to love her.
When Vincent looked at her, they seemed to glimmer with millions of unspoken words. His eyes became the clearest night sky lit with billions of stars reflecting off clear waters.
She often thought about his eyes when she missed him. On a low day, she would wonder if those eyes would make a difference to her day.
His eyes stole a glance at her from across the table as he added a little cream to his coffee. As he stirred it slowly, he began the conversation that was trying to claw it’s way out of his mouth. “Rachel,”
Rolling her eyes Sparrow moaned and threw her hands up dramatically. “Vincent… no.”
“Come now, humor me.” He stared at her, letting few moments pass before trying again. “When you first came to live with us, and I was going through old cases I would often ask your opinion. You were such a wonderful judge of character.” Placing his mug on the table, he rested his open palms on each side of it. “So?”
“Are you just going to keep asking me until I answer you?” She chewed on her pancakes before shifting her weight on the vinyl bench of her booth.
The corner of his lips curved up. “Time doesn’t always change things.”
Raising her brow, she couldn’t help but smile back at him. If there was one thing she was sure nothing would ever change, it was how stubborn Vincent was. “Maybe it’s changed my judge of character.” She teased him.
The corner of his eyes wrinkled as he sipped at his coffee. He was doing that thing where he only smiled with his eyes. That was one of her favourite things about him.
Sighing, Sparrow put down her fork and knife and leaned back. She rolled her head around on her neck to ease some of the tension before waving her hands out before her. “Jesus, alright, alright. I don’t know what you expect from me, I only met this woman for a few minutes and I have no idea about their history together.”
“But you have already formed an opinion of her, haven’t you?” He urged.
This whole situation was odd to her. Vincent and Harrison always had the perfect relationship. If Vincent didn’t like the relationship between Harrison and a girl he had chosen, he would tell him and usually Harrison would be swayed by his father’s opinion. It seemed like the world they had together was a house of cards, and it had all come tumbling down when she had walked away from it all.
The friendship she had thought would be everlasting between Harry and her had all but disappeared, like waking from a dream. Her father figure, Vincent, had been pushed away to make everything easier for her, and the dynamic between Harrison and Vincent seemed as broken as the one between her and Harrison.
She couldn’t help but crease her brow as she looked at Vincent. Folding her hands on the table in front of her as she looked at him, she decided to weigh in on the overall situation before zoning in on Rachel specifically. “Well, it would seem that she is someone more suited to what Meredith wants, then for what Harrison or even you would want. She had a very expensive purse on her arm, her nails were freshly done, as was her hair, all her clothes seemed to be bought from high end boutiques. I would guess she is someone Meredith hooked Harrison up with from some type of snooty club.”
“Now you said you and Harrison don’t keep in touch anymore. That wouldn’t be your choice so I am guessing he never left Paris when he fled…” She stopped, not wanting to touch base on their relationship and how it all fell apart. Clearing her throat, she continued, “But you seemed to know her well enough when you saw her there. He called you.” Her eyes narrowed. “With doubts.”
“This is exactly why I asked you for your opinion of her.” He stated. “He called me about three months ago and told me about how serious their relationship seemed to be growing, with Meredith’s urgings of course. The two of you are no longer teenagers, and she wants Harrison married and with children sooner rather than later. He called me to discuss… reservations.”
“Because he feels she is interested more in the King status than in the relationship itself.” It wasn’t a question.
“Precisely.” His eyes searched her face. “If you were to guess why she would be so interested in marrying Harrison after merely six or so months, what would be your reason for it?”
Normally she would say money, but it was clear by looking at the woman that Rachel already had that. However there was something so desperate about her when she had marched in, something so broken about the way she had looked at Sparrow, assuming they were having an affair. The King name was something a lot of women sought, and there was only one.
She didn’t have very long to figure the woman out, but she would be lying to Vincent if she told him she didn’t have an opinion. Throwing her head back, she wished they weren’t talking about all of this, but she knew she owed him her opinion if that was what he wanted from her.
“I don’t know much about her to judge on her motives, but I know enough about Harrison to know he isn’t happy. He doesn’t love her.”
Frowning, Vincent nodded. “That was my thoughts too. As I’ve said, I’ve had little chance to discuss his relationship with him. Meredith keeps him too close.”
That too was disconcerting. She would have to touch base on that later.
Reaching over, Vincent covered Sparrow’s hand with his own. “Thank you.”
“Being such a great judge of character.”