Charlotte needed him out of the house right now. Her grandmother would soon connect the dots of something not adding up. She hesitantly smiled at him, as she tried to tell him with her eyes to leave.
Her grandmother placed the food container down. "The pleasure is all mine. Now, would you like to tell me why you have a hand on my granddaughter?"
Charlotte stepped in and said the following words smoothly with a bitter taste in her mouth. "He's a close friend of mine. He forgot something."
"Interesting. I didn't hear him come in at all."
Vincent smiled. "I tend to hear that a lot. I hope I'm not disturbing you two."
"Not at all," her grandmother replied. "Come sit down. We can whip a dish up for you."
"Thank you, but I'll pass. I'll be out shortly, Mrs..."
"Please call me, Jillian, dear."
"Thank you, Jillian. I hope we get along well and so forth."
Charlotte gripped the bottom of his shirt in anger, and her grandmother traced the motion. She immediately forced her fingers to let go.
Vincent dropped his hands from her side. "Your granddaughter offered me a seat earlier as well."
Charlotte sighed, as her grandmother sent a questioning glance her way before asking Vincent, "Earlier, my dear?"
"Yes?"
Charlotte face-palmed. That was not the correct answer. She quickly pulled her grandmother out of the kitchen, pushing her into the foyer. Charlotte went back into the kitchen to grab her grandmother's purse and glared at him.
"Clean up fast and leave," she hissed. "Don't ever come back."
"As you wish."
She didn't turn back and met her grandmother in the foyer. Her grandmother was standing with her arms crossed and her back presented. Charlotte softly placed a hand on her grandmother's arm. She hoped that her grandmother wasn't expecting a lot.
"He is so handsome," her grandmother whispered. "Where did you meet him?"
Charlotte scratched her cheek. "On streets."
Technically, she wasn't lying. It was bad timing on her part. Her grandmother didn't make any comment.
"How long have you known him?"
"I guess for a month now," she lied. "We are only friends."
It was wrong to assume her grandmother wouldn't have their relationship. She had already imagined a wedding for them the moment she laid eyes on Vincent.
"I think we should head to the grocery store, grandmother. I would love to have some of your stew later," Charlotte said, as she tried to drag her grandmother out the door.
"I forgot my purse."
"I have it here."
Charlotte slung her grandmother's purse over her shoulder. "Let's take my car."
"Of course, sweets. How about the young man?"
"He's busy. He'll lock the doors once he finds his wallet."
Her grandmother nodded. "Of course."
Charlotte tugged her grandmother out the door. "I want to have some of your soup later. Make sure to make it double the spice."
Laughing, her grandmother agreed. Charlotte grinned and locked the front doors behind her. The sky was bright and blue, greeting them, as they walked over to her little car. Charlotte was worried to leave him behind, to be honest, because he seemed to have ulterior motives.
Sliding into the driver's seat, her thoughts were away while her grandmother chattered about the latest news from her friends. Vincent. It was a fitting name for a beautiful man. She would search him up later. Vincent Covington.
After dropping her grandmother off at her tiny little home in her upper-class space provided to her before her grandfather passed, Charlotte drove back home. She dearly missed her grandfather. He passed away when she was fourteen, so she still had vivid memories of him.
There was one day when they went to the cabin that her grandparents once had and stayed in the forest for hours at a time bird watching. It was a great memory where she was given the sharp reminder that life didn't last. Her grandfather passed from a cardiovascular disease that killed his heart. He was there one moment and gone in the next.
Grandfather was smart with his money and was able to give her parents a small bit of inheritance, and one locked away for herself as well when she needed it. Her parents told her that once Charlotte was an adult, she could open the account. Charlotte decided to wait until when the time came.
She was content with her life as is. If any conflict were to arise, she would be able to cover it with money. As she stopped her car, she grimaced that some problems couldn't be solved with money. Maybe bargaining with a vampire would work.
The sun was setting, and the darkness scared her. She locked her car before running to her house. Quickly, unlocking the doors, she slammed the door shut behind her. Her breath was coming out fast, and Charlotte pressed a hand to her chest.
She didn't want to admit it, but she was terrified of the vampires coming to visit her. There was paranoia lingering, and she forced herself to get up and take off her shoes to inspect the kitchen. Turning on all the lights to make herself feel more comfortable, she carefully stepped into the kitchen.
Her kitchen was pristine. The quartz countertops were shining, and the dining table looked brand new. She walked closer to see that it was brand new with the tags still on the table. The walls were free of any marks as were the floors all fresh. Charlotte shook her head. Vincent was insane.