Rise of the Billionaire Heir

Chapter 8 - Marie Pierre.

The forced invitation was a problem as Vincent had thought it to be, but there was another equal issue that he had to face if he really was going to go to the party. On the day before the party, he was standing in front of a mirror again when he found out this one thing, and even felt gobsmacked and stupid that he had never thought of it before: he had absolutely no clothes to wear to a party. The clothes he has bought on the day he was supposed to be on a date with Rory were worn out and spoilt from the fight he got into with Henri and the subsequent events that happened.

"I have to get myself new clothes," he finally said to himself as he looked on his reflection. With that thought he ran across the house, grabbed a bag and his trustee bicycle, and off he went. 

There were several boutiques in Paris that were well said to be of impeccable quality, but one, only one of them did he fancy in entering. The large boutique de Gentry. It was the most beautiful according to him, and the only one he felt he could be able to find the clothes that he really wanted.

Although Vincent was fascinated about cars, he did not exactly know how to ride one, and hence was one of the reasons he rode only on his bicycles despite being the owner of two very expensive and luxurious cars. But little did he know this would be a really big problem for him in the boutique he was about heading to.

At the gate at first he had noticed that the only people going into the place were car owners, all of them with their very own luxurious cars. He had nothing on him than a bicycle and a bag but he did not let that stop him. He had not even thought of it.

He strolled behind the cars with the bicycle in his hands to the gate. Before he was able to enter, he heard the unfriendly scowling of a security guard.

"Who are you and what do you intend to do here?" The man said in an unfriendly tone.

"I am here to shop for clothes," Vincent said innocently. He still did not understand what was going on.

"You? Shop here?" The security guard mocked. "Have you looked at your self in the mirror, young man? Do you in anyway look the kind of people who shop here? Please, if you happen to know what is good and just for you then I suggest you leave this premises now."

Vincent left as soon as the man had said and tried his luck in one more boutique, only to be given the same treatment. With more and more exposure, he became more aware of the reasons they were chasing him out. But he found it funny because boutiques are places to buy clothes, why does it matter the kind of clothe he was wearing that he was being chased out, whether or not he had the money?

Almost about to give up, he decided to try one last time at a third boutique. It was the same once again: a line of fancy cars going in one by one, and security guards that unleashed on him the most terrible insults he had ever heard in his life.

About to give up, he heard behind him the most beautiful voice he had ever gotten the chance to come across in his entire life.

"Excuse me kind sir," the voice said in so much eloquence that it marveled him, "But your bicycle is on my way." 

Vincent looked back to see who was talking and became awe struck by the beauty he saw. A girl, or perhaps if could call her, a woman. Her eyes were green, her skin seemed tanned enough, her lips called out to him in every way possible.

"Excuse me," she said once again, breaking Vincent out of the trance that he had been locked in, viewing her eyes.

"Oh I'm sorry." He said, grabbing his bicycle and wheeling it out of the way, his face saddened and drained of all the color he had before.

"That's right, leave," the security guard roared at him. "And never show your raggy poverty stricken self here again!"

It seemed not to hurt as it used to, Vincent had already heard all the insults that could ever be thrown at him.

"That's not very nice, Gaston," the girl said. "You should apologize immediately. And I mean it."

"But ma'am, he is just a street urchin." The security guard said. 

"Doesn't matter. Apologize to him."

She called out to Vincent who turned back to look at the pretty girl calling him as some sort of miracle. He came back as soon as he was called, looking directly into her eyes. "You called for me," he said.

"Yes, I believe you are owed an apology," she said, much to the surprise of Vincent and to the disgust of the security guard whose name was Gaston. "Now Gaston, apologize to him."

The security guard crept close, his back slightly hunched. "I'm sorry" he said immediately, before going back to his post.

"Now does that feel better?" She asked. Vincent thought she was talking to the security guard, only to realize that it had really been him later on.

"Oh well," he started, anxiously. "I guess apologizing is always a good thing. He could not help but look at her eyes, to him, she was easily the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.

"So what exactly do you want? You must want something for you to come all the way down here." 

"I came to shop." Vincent said this trying his best to resist being sarcastic in anyway. "I know you might not believe me because I am badly dressed."

"Why? Is that not the reason why we get new clothes?" 

"Exactly!" He laughed. 

"If you do want to go in, I suggest that you get in the car with me. I'm going in to see my mom. She is the owner of this place."

He could not believe it. He was being invited into a car with a girl as pretty as her. He could barely hold the excitement as he hopped in the car without delay.

"My name is Marie Pierre, what's yours?"

"Vincent. Just Vincent."