Blanche's POV
When I settled onto the couch, Lucia still hadn't joined me. She'd drifted to the far side of the hall, leaving me wondering what she was doing over there.
I stared down at my phone screen, expecting Vincent to take his sweet time getting back to me. Instead, his response came lightning-fast.
Vincent: [What's going on? Already missing me?]
Just seeing those words, I could practically visualize that cocky smirk of his. So typical.
I tapped out a reply: [I'm at your house.]
Vincent: [I know.]
That caught me off guard. I typed back: [It's New Year's Eve. How come you're not home with your mom? She seems pretty upset.]
The little "Typing..." indicator popped up under Vincent's name.
A beat later, his message appeared: [Don't need to be there—long as you've got my back, she's golden.]
Now I was really confused. I couldn't stop myself from asking: [So you're still stuck at the office?]
But Vincent dodged the question entirely: [You worried about me?]
