Chapter 57 Chapter Fifty-Seven
Vanessa POV
The Darlington Family Mall was exactly what it sounded like—the massive shopping complex was owned by Bean's family, complete with high-end boutiques, a food court that rivaled most restaurants, and enough designer stores to make my student loan debt weep.
"I still can't believe your family owns this entire place," I said as we walked through the gleaming marble corridors, past stores I'd only ever seen in magazines.
I could never get used to the fact that my friend was the daughter of a multimillionaire family.
"It's just a mall," Bean had said dismissively the first time she brought me here even though I could see a hint of pride in her eyes.
"My grandfather started with one store in the seventies, and it kind of... grew."
"Kind of grew into a retail empire," I had corrected but she laughed it off.
Now looking up at the vaulted ceilings with their ornate chandeliers, I couldn't help but feel the same way again.
"Bean, this is insane." I muttered and she huffed
“ You always say this, when do you plan on getting used to it”
“ Never maybe,” I huffed
"Wait until you see the family discount," Bean said with a mischievous grin.
"Now come on, we need to find you something that says 'I'm dating your son and I'm not intimidated by your billions.'"
"Except I am intimidated by the billions," I pointed out.
"Then we'll find you something that says 'I'm dating your son and I'm pretending not to be intimidated by your billions,'" Bean amended.
"Close enough." I muttered
We spent the next two hours going through boutique after boutique. Bean was relentless, pulling dresses off racks with the precision of a professional stylist, rejecting anything that was "too casual," "too formal," "too trendy," or "too boring."
I tried on what felt like a hundred different outfits. Cocktail dresses that made me look like I was trying too hard. Casual dresses that made me look like I wasn't trying at all.
Pantsuits that were too professional. Skirts and blouses that were too young.
Bean wanted me to take them all and I barely managed to convince her that I needed just a set of clothes.
Finally, in a boutique called "Étoile," Bean found what she was looking for.
"This," she said, holding up a dress in a deep emerald green.
"This is the one."
The dress was beautiful—simple but elegant, with a fitted bodice and a flowing skirt that hit just below the knee. The color matched my eyes perfectly, and when I tried it on, I had to admit Bean was right.
"You look amazing," Bean said, circling me like a fashion designer inspecting her work.
"Classy, confident, not trying too hard. This is perfect."
"It's also probably more expensive than my rent," I said, checking the price tag and immediately regretting it.
"Bean, I can't—"
"Family discount, remember?" Bean interrupted, plucking the tag from my hand.
"Trust me, by the time I'm done negotiating, this will cost less than what you'd pay at Target."
"That seems unlikely," I said, but I was already in love with the dress.
Bean added shoes—simple black heels that wouldn't kill my feet—and a delicate silver necklace that I was definitely not going to wear for a simple thanksgiving dinner.
By the time we made it to the register, and the cashier bagged our things I felt like I was going to hyperventilate out of my skin at the amount appearing on the machine.
She paid and dragged me off before I could complain about anything.
We were heading toward the exit, shopping bags in hand, when a familiar voice called out.
"Benedicta Darlington, is that you?"
Bean froze, and I turned to see a tall man in an expensive suit walking toward us. He had Bean's same dark eyes and auburn hair, though his was styled in a professional businessman cut.
"Marcus," Bean said, and I could hear the wariness in her voice.
"What are you doing here?"
"I work here," Marcus said with an easy smile.
"Or have you forgotten that some of us actually help run the family business?" His eyes shifted to me, and his smile widened.
"And you must be the famous Vanessa. Bean told me all about you."
"She has?" I asked, surprised.
"Well, Mom has," Marcus amended.
"She says you're a good influence. Keeping Bean out of trouble."
"I try," I said, though privately I thought Bean was the one who usually kept me out of trouble.
"Are you two hungry?" Marcus asked.
"I was just about to grab dinner at Meridian's." He gestured toward the upscale restaurant on the top floor.
"My treat."
Bean looked like she wanted to refuse, but her stomach betrayed her with a loud growl.
"That's a yes," Marcus said, laughing.
"Come on, you can fill me in on what you've been up to. Mom and Dad have been worried."
Dinner at Meridian's was going to be an expensive experience but I didn't really care since it wasn't my money anyway.
The restaurant was the kind of place where the menu didn't have prices and the servers acted like you were royalty.
Marcus ordered for all of us—apparently he came here often enough to know what was good—and spent most of the meal asking Bean gentle questions about where she'd been.
"I've been at Madison's,and my apartment," Bean said, pushing her salmon around her plate.
"I just needed some space."
"Because of the boy?" Marcus asked, and Bean's head snapped up.
"How did you—"
"Mom mentioned you'd broken up with your boyfriend," Marcus said carefully.
"And when I called Madison to check if you were really there, she may have mentioned that he was an asshole who didn't deserve you."
Despite everything, Bean smiled slightly. "Madison's not wrong."
"She rarely is," Marcus agreed. Then, more seriously,
"Bean, you know you can come home, right? Mom and Dad aren't going to lecture you or make you talk about it if you don't want to. They're just worried about you."
Bean was quiet for a moment, then nodded.
"I know. I've just been... processing."
"Process at home," Marcus said.
"At least then Mom will stop calling me every day asking if I've seen you."
After dinner, Marcus walked us back to my car, carrying our shopping bags like a gentleman.
"It was nice meeting you, Vanessa," he said, shaking my hand.
"Take care of my little sister, will you?"
"I will," I promised.
He turned to Bean and pulled her into a hug.
"Come home tonight. Just for a visit. Mom and Dad miss you."
Bean hugged him back.
"Okay. I'll come home tonight."
"Good," Marcus said. Then, to me,
"Make sure she actually goes, will you?"
"I will," I said, smiling.
I drove Bean back to our apartment so she could pack an overnight bag.
“You don't really have to go home thought, if you don't want them hounding you” I mumbled and she shrugged
“I'll get hounded either way best to get it over with” she mumbled walking to her room.
While she was in there my phone rang.
Mom.