The Finer Things (A Vincent De Gramont Story)

Who Are You? - Part 1

He didn't look comfortable. He didn't look amused. He looked disgusted.

Ines had said yes to the tall man to just talk over dinner. She didn't want to leave her own block, she felt more safe there, so she had decided they would go to the restaurant on the corner close to the gallery. She had always thought it was nice, a restaurant conscious about the environment and their climate footprint but the frenchmen looked around with the corner of his mouth pulled down and his nostrils flaring.

They had been placed by a small table by the bar. The Frenchman asked the staff to wipe it again but afterwards also asked his bodyguard to wipe the table but also his chair. The tall man looked like a spoiled three year old while his dad fixed everything for him. When he finally sat down he started to dust the table with his hand. Ines looked at him amused. He felt like a cartoon character.

"Why the clothes?" Asked Ines with a smirk while looking at his tie. It was knotted as a craft work and she knew he couldn't have done that by himself.

He smiled, much more friendly than she had expected.

"Your clothes say everything about you," said he and gave her outfit a careful look. She wore an oversized burgundy sweater over black leggings. She liked to dress comfortably. She smirked a little.

"So what do my clothes say about me?"

He gave her a look again but seemed to bite his tongue and turned to the waiter.

"Slow service here..."

Ines laughed a little and gave the bodyguard by the door an amused look. She wondered what people reacted most to, the Frenchman's outfit or the bodyguard.

They began to order, she ordered a modern take of green curry while he ordered a dry martini. He had sighed when he saw the menu, then the list of spirits. But he got stuck looking at the dessert menu.

"I will take two scoops of the vanilla ice cream."

Ines looked at him amused. The man in silk and velvet ordered ice cream for dinner.

"Americans make great ice cream... One of the few things you people can do..."

Ines made a sound of offense even if she wasn't.

"You're such a snob!"

He looked at her like it was an obvious fact. He would not deny it.

When their food had come out he looked at her in another way. He was down for business.

"Can I see it? The painting?"

She doubted and looked down at her plate. It wasn't really to show it that made her feel uncomfortable, because he already knew she had it but she needed to invite him into her home then. It would be easy for him to take to violence to get it and because of it being a secret she hadn't insured it and would probably not get any help to get it back.

"Can I call you Vincent?" She asked but he looked offended until he swallowed hard. He probably knew he must adjust himself to her ways to get her respect.

"Fine."

"Vincent, emm... It's in my home and you're a gentleman, I guess?"

"Absolutely." He said without a doubt, like it was a given fact.

"But I'm still afraid you will use violence against me to get the painting..."

Vincent licked his lips and nodded.

"Do you have a friend who can be with us? If that makes you feel safer?"

He looked at her with big eyes. Ines smiled with a blush. Maybe he actually was a gentleman. He did look like one.