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When the phone lies there quietly for five minutes, I let out a relieved breath and start to walk away.
Bzzzzzzzzzzzz.
I stop and slowly turn back around. Leaning over the counter I see that, sure enough, it’s his parents calling again.
What if his dad fell off a ladder and broke his neck? What if his mom got hit by a car?
If I don’t pick up the phone, Vincent won’t know what’s going on until well after one in the morning, and by then, it could be too late to get a flight to Paris to give his mother the kidney she needs to save her life after she was hit by a bus crossing the street at Galerie Vivienne!
Before I can change my mind, I grab the phone and answer it.
“Um . . . Vincent’s phone, this is Isabelle.”
“Vincent?!” a woman shouts.
“No, I’m sorry, ma’am, this is Isabelle. Um, I’m a . . . friend of Vincent’s.”
“Harold! Get in here! Vincent’s got himself a girlfriend!” she yells.
“No, no, no! I’m not his girlfriend. I’m just a friend from . . . uh, work. We met a few months ago and he was kind of rude and standoffish but I told him off and now our friends are in love and my dad kicked me out of the house and I had nowhere else to go and he was doing this creepy stalker thing where he kept coming up to the library where I work every night but he was just making sure I was okay and safe and he found out I was living there and now he’s letting me stay here with him.”
Oh, my God. What have I done?!
“I’m putting you on speakerphone, honey!” his mother says happily. “Say hi, Harold.”
“Hi, Harold!” his dad suddenly speaks with a laugh.
I can’t help but giggle, even though I want to crawl into a hole and die after the oversharing I just did.
“You have no idea how happy this makes me that Vincent finally found someone after all he’s been through,” his mother says with a sigh. “Have you set a date for the wedding yet?”
“Diane, leave the poor girl alone,” Harold mutters before addressing me. “You don’t have to answer that, dear.”
“So, you work in a library? That’s so exciting! Vincent loves books and reading, but he just hasn’t been in the right frame of mind in the last few years and forgot all about his passion, what with that gold digging hussy breaking his heart and all,” Diane complains.
“Christ, woman, give it a rest. You’re going to scare the girl away,” Harold scolds her.
“Stop telling me what to do, you old fart! Anyway, Isabelle, we have dinner reservations so we won’t keep you. Just tell Vincent we called, and, sweetie, I can’t wait to talk to you again and get to know more about you. I just want to thank you for saving our son. You have no idea what this means to us,” she tells me, getting a little choked up as she speaks. “We’ll be back in the States in a few months, and I look forward to meeting the woman made it possible for Vincent to—”
“Stop. Talking,” Harold cuts her off.
A loud burst of laughter flies out of my mouth hearing just how similar Vincent and his father are.
“Um, it was nice to speak with you both. I look forward to talking to you again soon as well. And I’ll make sure to let Vincent know you called,” I tell them.
We say good-bye and I end the call, staring down at the phone in my hand.
What a weird conversation. I mean, I understand how concerned they must have been about their son after the “gold digging hussy” did a number on him, but saving him? I don’t know if what I’m doing with their son could really be considered saving him. I’m relieved their phone call wasn’t an actual emergency, but now I feel even more guilty that I answered it and invaded his privacy, yet again.
* * *
Ariel and I walk into Charming’s a half hour later. I only had to bribe her with three home-cooked meals to get her to swing by here before she took me into work at the library, not because she hates Charming’s or anything. She’s just stubborn. And sometimes annoying, but I still love her.
The club is empty, since it won’t open for a few hours, but it still takes me a few minutes of searching before I find Vincent standing behind the bar, stocking shelves.
No matter how many times I come in here when they’re closed, I’m still surprised by the place. From what I’ve seen on television and read in books, most clubs are seedy and downright gross when they’re closed and every single light in the place is on, highlighting all of the stuff you don’t see late at night, when the lights are turned down.
