Sugar

16

chapter sixteen
florence thompson
song: the way you look tonight – frank sinatra

"Welcome, Miss Thompson," Vincent De Bellis' velvety smooth voice broke me from my daze, assuring that my heart was carefully lodged in my dry throat, it's respective placement when I'm around this man.

With much hesitation I turned to find Vincent emerging from a hall that led to god only knows where, in a suit that looked ridiculously good on his defined body. It hugged to his every curve and divot, reminding me of the night of our first dinner.

My heart was thudding ridiculously hard in a matter of moments, driving me nearly insane since I felt like I couldn't just feel normal around this man.

He's just a man! A human, just like you, Florence!

"Good evening, Mr. De Bellis," I finally found my voice, though it came out softer and more distant than I meant for it to, only causing my cheeks to flush further than they surely already were.

His pink lips pulled up into a smirk as he slowly sauntered further into the living area where I was stood, closer to the elevator still.

I couldn't help but notice the dark facial hair that casted over his jaw, seemingly more grown out than the last time I saw him. His dark hair was waywardly but in a purposeful way. His mismatched eyes even more alluring than the night he sat across from me in the dim lighting of Oiseau de Nuit.

"You look breathtaking," his smooth voice slid from his parted lips. "Something I'm coming to realize is on par for the usual with you," his tone was light and teasing but his words made my cheeks quickly heat up, my gaze shifting to the floor near my feet.

Says you, my inner dialogue commented.

"Thank you." I smiled, my gaze slowly finding its way back up to his face which was slowly approaching me as he made his way across the living area.

His smile was still intact when he finally stopped a few feet in front of me, my gaze raised now to make up for the height distance between the two of us, even with my heels on.

"My pleasure, Florence," he whispered, and suddenly the atmosphere shifted into something much more carnal but I quickly shoved the inclination away, pinning the observation on the fact that I'm clearly delusional from the amount of attractive men I've come into contact with in the past fifteen minutes.

It obviously isn't doing any favors for my brain.

Without any further words, Vincent nodded his head towards his left, motioning for me to follow which I quickly did. After a short walk we found ourselves in a dining area, a large table big enough to hold a feast was sat in the center, an immaculate chandelier hanging above it.

"For dinner I thought we'd keep it simple, I remember on your profile you made it very clear your love of mac and cheese so I had my cook make your favorite dish," Vincent's words shocked me, causing my mouth to slightly fall agape as my gaze fell on the table where there were two bowls of mac and cheese, silverware sat on the side of each bowl. The bowls were situated on either end of the large table.

"Oh my god," I mumbled, very amused and flattered all at once. "That's incredible, thank you," I chuckled, shaking my head as he led me to the seat on one end of the table, politely pulling my chair out for me like he did at Oiseau de Nuit before rounding the table to his side.

"Hopefully it meets your standards," he teased, a light smirk on his lips as he sat down finally.

I shook my head, my words seeming to fail me in that exact moment. The fact he'd gone out of his way to make something–or rather, pay someone else to make something–he knew I would like is more than I could've ever expected. Especially something as silly as mac and cheese.