Chapter 43

Clara's POV

I nearly choked on air as I continued to stare at his hand.

His last name sounded too familiar. Heck, his face was normal, too. Had I seen him before in some magazine or something?

Could it be a coincidence? What were the chances that he was related to Derek? But knowing Layla, this was all planned out.

"Montenegro?" I asked, gathering my thoughts to speak.

"Yes," he answered with a smile.

At this point, he must have thought I was a lunatic because I kept staring at him.

With a face like that, was he used to women staring at him?

He invited himself to sit in the chair opposite mine as I remained dumbfounded.

I felt my legs quiver under the table. I turned to look at the menu as I tried to conceal my hands, which were also shaking. Avoiding eye contact was my best bet. So this situation wouldn't be any more awkward.

The questions piling up in my brain wouldn't let me stay silent. I still had no idea why he was there.

"Do you happen to be related to Derek?" I asked, finally tearing my eyes away from the menu.

"As it so happens, he is my cousin." He answered.

I mouthed an 'Oh.' That helped clear up some doubts. He was related to Derek, which meant he knew Layla, who was the reason both of us were here. I should have known she would try to pull something.

Now that I think about it, I don't know why the thought hadn't registered. Derek and Vincent shared some similar facial features. They both had the same effect on people when they smiled. However, it still wasn't enough to automatically tell they were related.

"Of course, I am the good-looking one in the family." He added.

"Is everyone in your family this arrogant?" I chuckled. I remembered Derek saying something similar.

"No, we just took our classes on self-esteem very seriously." He answered with a poker face. I couldn't tell whether he was joking or not.

I chose to chuckle, returning my eyes to the menu. I still couldn't keep my legs from trembling.

Staring at the menu, I pretended it was the most interesting thing I had ever seen. Nothing could cure the amount of awkwardness I felt in this situation.

"Why are you here?" I finally asked the most important question.

"You want to get rid of me already?" He asked. He must have been a skilled actor because he almost looked hurt.

"I'm just curious," I answered.

"I was..."

He was interrupted when a waiter walked in to take both our orders.

Despite staring at the menu for so long, I still had no idea what I wanted to eat.

Vincent took the lead as he ordered some chicken wraps for us.

I took a sip of the water the waiter left on the table, waiting for him to explain why he was there.

"Okay, look," he sighed. "I just received a text from my aunt with a date and time. She gave a long, confusing explanation followed by a threat, so here I am." He answered.

That, I could believe.

I folded my arms on the table and continued staring at him. "So, you just agreed to come?" I asked.

"I don't know if you know, but my aunt can be scary sometimes. She was going to have my head if I didn't. Frankly, I love my pretty face," he answered.

"I'm sure she's not that bad," I chuckled. Now that we were discussing Layla, I felt more relaxed.

Vincent leaned in, resting both his hands on the table. Suddenly, we were close, too close.

"I still get nightmares of her when she told me Santa wasn't real. I was five. It was the most soul-crushing experience," he added. He pulled back, faking a tear. "Or maybe it was my grandfather who said it. Either way, I have way too many family issues to count. I'm sure I have something against Layla." He laughed.

"You call your aunt by her name?" I asked. "You must be one of the few brave ones." I laughed.

"She told us to call her by her name. She said she didn't want to feel old." He answered. "I guess she needed validation that her wrinkle creams were working." He laughed.

I shook my head at him in disapproval. I imagined Layla being here and how she might probably choke him to death or say something even smarter like, 'He looks like he needs facial reconstruction surgery.' Even though that wouldn't be true.

Before, most of my experiences with rich people were with uptight and condescending people. But Derek and his family were different. They seemed easy to talk to.

The waiter returned, laying our food on the table and drinks on the side.

For a while, we sat quietly, enjoying our food.

"So, do you have a sister as hot as you?" He winked.

I looked up from my plate. "I'm sorry, but my sister has taste." I retorted.

He pulled back, placing a hand on his chest. "Ouch," he muttered. "I'll have you know that I have very good references from all my lovers," he commented.

That was not something I wanted to imagine.

"She is practically still jailbait, she's fifteen," I explained.

"Oh, that won't work." He said with a nod, digging his fork into his food. "Tell her to hit me up when she is older." He winked.

"Well, you are officially on my list of men my sister should avoid," I commented.

"Is that because I'm on your list?" he commented.

"No," I answered, shaking my head. Not when there was Derek. "I can tell you are probably an only child," I added.

"No, actually," he answered. "I have a little brother. He is nine and a total pain in the neck. I hope it gets better as he ages." He continued.Another thing we have in common.

"It gets worse," I assured him, digging into my plate. I knew from my experience with Katy.

"I guess I'll just have to keep avoiding him," he chuckled.

I don't know when Vincent and I became comfortable with each other, but we were laughing, giving each other high fives, and sharing pictures of each other's family members. I even saw a baby picture of him and Derek in the bathtub; what I would do to get my hands on that picture again.

"He is adorable," I commented, looking at a picture of his younger brother on his phone. "How do you hate a face like that?" I asked.

"Imagine on your eighteenth birthday getting the news that you will have a little brother. Who even decided to have children at that age?" He asked.

I shrugged.

"I can't be seen with him. Everyone pretty much assumes that I'm his father. I mean me, at this age." He continued.

I laughed. I never had that problem with Katy. I was ten when she was born. I was just too excited to have someone to play with. If only I had foreseen the trouble. Snapping back to reality, I looked at my watch. My lunch break was nearly over, in less than ten minutes, to be exact. I needed to get back to work. With the rumours circulating, I felt like I was on a probationary period and couldn't afford to make a mistake.