«Scattered across my family line, I'm so good at telling lies. That came from my mother's side.»
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The woman placed her gardening tools down as soon as she noticed her standing in front of the shop, wiping the remaining dirt in her hands on the material of her apron. She approached her with a friendly smile, all teeth and niceness, Sloane jolted a little in surprise when the lady stood almost by her side. She'd been too engrossed in staring at the set of flowers in front of her to notice her presence. She did recover quickly and returned the gesture with a polite smile of her own.
The florist shop was a new addition to her street unless she'd been too blind before to catch sight of it in the first place. No, it was definitely a new thing. There were still some pots being unpacked and other things awaiting placement.
"Those are carnations." The lady clarified, motioning with her hand at the flowers she'd been studying mere minutes before.
Her lips parted in a small oh, and she nodded in understanding. "I thought they were marigolds. They look similar." Except the colours should've given away that they weren't marigolds, but she wasn't a flower expert anyway. "On that note, do you happen to have marigolds?"
With pursed lips and an apologetic expression, the florist shook her head. "Not at the moment, I'm afraid. We're in wedding season, and it's very hard to find marigolds around this time."
Her brows were slightly furrowed now. Not upset, but confused. "Marigolds are wedding flowers?" She received a silent nod in response. Her attention drifted back to the carnations. They were similar enough. "Are those wedding flowers as well?"
"They're more popular for funerals, I believe." Oh, okay. Not as romantic as marigolds it seemed. The florist caught her little grimace and softly chuckled. "But they're used in weddings as well. You could give them whatever meaning you want, really. The intention is what matters. Are you looking for flowers to give a boyfriend...or girlfriend?"
She shook her head. "No, no. I spotted the shop when I walked out of my building and maybe was curious to buy myself some flowers. For my flat, that was it. Are jasmines also hard to find during this wedding season?" Her tone was playful, and the lady chuckled.
"They're hard to find around this part of Europe all the time, but let me just," She motioned with her hand for Sloane to wait, and proceeded to wander inside the shop.
It was hard to view anything on the inside from where she was standing, but she made sure to follow the woman with her gaze until she walked back outside, holding something in one of her palms. There was a satisfied smile on her lips. She couldn't be older than Sloane's mother, with a far more sympathetic set of mannerisms and attitude though. Her mother would never smile that way to a stranger. Or anyone for that matter.
The first thing she looked at was the three seeds resting on the florist's palm. "If you're willing to try, these are jasmine seeds. It's not a flower I work with, but I brought them from Spain a few weeks ago for a friend. You might have some luck growing it."
Realistically, she didn't believe herself skilled enough to not kill all plants in existence but she could give it a try. If they died then gardening was definitely not on her list of talents. If they didn't, then she could pick a new hobby in the future. And perhaps get flowers out of it. Cute and useful.
She patted her pockets and wrinkled her nose. "I don't have any change with me now, but I live in that building over there so if you give me a moment I can go for some cash." With a finger, she pointed at one of the apartment units across the street.
The woman waved her free hand dismissively and reached to put the seeds in her own hand. "I don't think I could charge anyone for three flower seeds, don't worry." And she added a kind smile, to seal it. "You try to grow them and if you're successful, you can share a stem with me. Maybe I can be lucky as well."
Sloane chuckled, highly doubting she could actually grow the flower. "Alright, deal. But I can't promise anything." She bantered and the woman shrugged it off with a grin.
When she crossed the street and went back to her flat, seeming quite proud of her new acquisitions, Charles was sitting on the sofa, staring mildly confused at the television screen where a man talked about the news of the day...in Dutch. He even tilted his head as if that would help him get a better hang of whatever the guy was saying. Her lips curved into a smile, and she placed her keys and the jasmine seeds on the first piece of furniture around before walking closer to him.
His attention immediately departed from the news and he beamed, opening his arms and beckoning her towards him. Something she would never deny anyway. She found herself straddling him, her knees on each of his sides while trying not to fully sit on his lap with her whole weight. He placed a kiss on her shoulder, wrapping his arms around her waist.
"Were you enjoying the news report? What did they say?" She raised an eyebrow, running a hand through his hair.
Charles leaned against the touch. "A lot of things...I only followed when they showed photos and videos. It might rain somewhere this weekend, I think." He smiled. The only thing he'd managed to catch was the picture of rainy clouds on the screen while a man described the weather. "Did you find what you were looking for?"
"Ah, no. The landlord was gone and the shop was closed." She shrugged, and then something close to satisfaction flashed in her expression. "But I got some jasmine seeds."
"Jasmine?"
Her smile widened at the tiny sign of confusion on his face. "Flowers."
"Oh, cute."
On the screen, a loud commercial interrupted the news. They both turned for a quick glance at the television, then back at each other. Charles, still very lost with the language, gave her a dopey smile. Her lips automatically did the same thing always, because everything about him caused that on her.
"Maybe I should learn Dutch. Mind some help?"
Sloane chuckled, and grabbed his face in her hands, leaning in to kiss him hard. Her hands grabbed his, moving them lower. A sigh escaped her lips when he started trailing kisses from her jaw to her neck, only pulling away when she felt some contact in the curve of her neck. Charles laughed after she grabbed him by the chin to meet his gaze.
"You know the rule: no hickeys." She warned with a playful smile. "Unless you want Vivianne to kill us both."
If she showed up with a hickey, Vivianne would send her to celibacy jail. Or give her one of those serious glares of hers. Sloane could perfectly picture the expression in her brain if she gave it some thought.
"No hickeys." He promised.
The end of the situation was predictable, except they'd end up moving to her bedroom because as proven the first time Charles visited her flat in Rotterdam, her sofa wasn't as comfortable as it appeared at first glance. Not to do the things they usually did, at least. Whilst she was too focused on the kisses being shared, he patted the side where the left back pocket of her jeans was located. Her phone was going off. Reluctantly, he tried to break the kiss, Sloane complained with a barely audible whine.
"Your phone," He patted again. In the beginning, she'd thought he was just touching her ass. "Someone is calling you."
With a resigned sigh — perhaps a groan as well — and clumsy hands, she reached to retrieve the device. The first two people who came to mind were either Vivianne or Aurora because they always called. Except it was neither of those two. Sadly, she thought. She forced herself not to frown when the words on the screen displayed an incoming call from her mother of all people. Great. Her eyes met Charles, who looked at her with curiosity. She gave him a side smile and gestured for him to keep quiet, accepting the call in the process.
"Sloane." The unenthusiastic tone wasn't strange. It'd taken her a while to get used to it but now it was typical. "We haven't seen you in weeks. Your father is leaving for London in a couple of days on a business trip and asked if we could have dinner. All of us." Ah yes, the excruciating monthly dinner to make sure she wasn't getting into trouble or dishonouring the family. Same thing.
God.
She sighed. "Does it have to be today?" Charles was as quiet as a mouse. It was hard to tell if he was breathing, but he seemed just as confused as before with the news channel. Maybe he really did need to learn some Dutch.
"Sloane, don't start with your things. Just come to dinner." Her mother insisted or demanded more so. Somewhere in between that.
There was the possibility of lying. Tell her she was in Italy or France, anywhere else really. Though her mother was some sort of witch, and if she'd contacted her, it meant the woman knew she was back home.
She hesitated for a second, analysing if it was a good idea to disclose the information. But again, they wanted her at dinner and she couldn't bail on Charles. Leave him alone in her flat while she suffered for a few hours in the company of her own parents. It would be impolite.
Just remove the bandaid, that was it. "I...I have some company." Why did her mother make her feel like she would get reprimanded for not finishing her work or something? Like a child getting into trouble.
"Oh." A simple word with enough indication of intrigue. "Is that company the boyfriend you refuse to introduce to us? Your parents?" Her mother said that word like it would mean something to her. And it did, in a negative way.
There were reasons why she didn't want to introduce him to them. If her parents were more self-aware they would know why she always went through all the stages of insecurity and grief before taking anyone home to meet them. Unfortunately, they weren't very concerned with their personal flaws so she doubted they would ever understand how they were the main problem in the situation.
"Yes." Not that she needed a lot to confirm. She wanted to throw up. Charles smiled because that simple word he could easily understand, fully unaware of the internal turmoil she was going through.
"Good, I'll set another place at the table then." She should've lied. The conclusion came after regretting the decision. "I expect you here for dinner. I don't want to get stressed, Sloane, so please don't give me a headache today."
Every time she spoke with Marjo, it sounded like she was talking to her boss and not her literal mother. Their goodbyes were always the most awkward thing in the world. It took her a few seconds after her mother hung up for her to pull the phone away from her ear. The calls usually left her in a state of dismay combined with uncertainty. She blinked, wishing the distress wasn't noticeable at sight.
"Is everything okay, ma belle? Was it Vivianne?"
She shook her head, coming down from the moment. "No, it was—it was my mom." He raised his eyebrows. "Do you remember how you said you wanted to meet my parents?" His confirmation came with a quick nod. He'd suggested it a few times, but she always brushed it off saying she'd introduce him to them someday. Not very comforting for him but he never complained or pushed for it. "They invited us to dinner. My dad is leaving for London and we—they want to dine together, so there's that. If you'd like to come along."
"That's great! I'd love to join." She wanted to cry because he didn't know what spending a whole dinner with her parents was like.
At least if he didn't decide to run away after that, she'd know he could be the right one for her.
—
Dinner was...strange. Because it was the opposite of what she had initially expected. Or what Sloane was accustomed to from other times.
Her mother, the one person whose middle name should've been Misery, was being nice. Like genuinely nice and polite. The woman smiled and talked about how she always had wanted Sloane to take up French or Spanish when she was younger, but her father had decided on German. They talked about Monaco, her mother and Charles that was, and about racing. Racing. What did Marjo know about racing? As much as Sloane knew before meeting Charles, that was for sure. Either Charles was so charming he'd managed to squeeze the apathy out of her mother, or that woman was pretty good at pretending because Sloane had never seen her being that agreeable with any of her former partners.
That part of her, the one that held several grudges against her parents and wanted to get rid of them, found the situation a bit unsettling. Because it meant she was making her mother happy. Ew.
"Ferrari...that must be a lot of responsibility." Her father, Leo, mentioned once the conversation steered more toward his job and less toward the basics of racing.
Charles nodded, taking a deep breath. "It is. It's a historic team so the expectations are always high for everyone working for them." He smiled, showing his dimples. She looked at her father. "I try to do as best as I can."
Unlike her mother, her father had been less talkative, but just as polite and nice, which was not as weird as with her mother. She was used to all those demeanours of his father from business meetings she'd attended with him before so she knew Leo could be courteous and all that without making a lot of effort.
"You must be the same age as that Dutch guy who is doing well in that, right? He's quite popular already." Sloane gripped her cutlery tighter. Of course he would mention the Dutch guy.
"Yes." Another nod. He wasn't nervous, but her father did have a very scrutinising stare. "We've been racing together since we were young, most of us, so it's nice to share the track now we're older." He cleared his throat.
She reached under the table to hold his hand. They found touch almost immediately. Sloane eyed him for less than a second, then back at her parents. It wasn't hard to read them this time.
The conversation continued smoothly, her father even told him that he hoped to see him competing for the championship in the future. The situation was so weird. It felt like a simulation, to say the least. At some point, Charles had to excuse himself to answer a call from back home. He apologised several times, until her parents told him there was no problem, her mother indicating where he could get more privacy.
Her hands were sweating cold when she watched him disappear from the dining room. The pounding of her heart was loud in her ears and hard in her chest. It would break her ribcage, no exaggerations.
Her father looked at her first. His hands interlaced with one another on top of the table to appear more analysing and serious, right in front of his chin. Sloane glanced from him to her mother, who didn't say a thing but clearly wanted to. At least she wasn't in a bad mood, that was gratifying and relieving in the sense her lectures weren't a very fun experience to go through.
"A racing driver," Leo started, pursing his lips. He didn't sound disapproving, just dull. "I never imagined that for you. What happened to Arjen's son? Daan? I thought you were dating him."
Not that she needed a lot of proof about how little he paid attention to her life, but that was a good way for him to let her know he'd been out of the loop regarding her for a long while now. She couldn've gotten married and he wouldn't have noticed it. Or attend the wedding actually. Her name wasn't on his list of priorities. She understood that.
Sloane sighed, meeting his gaze. "I broke up with him...two years ago." Her father seemed taken aback by the revelation. The two years information more specifically. Someone else would've asked why Daan hadn't shown up to family dinners for a while, but he didn't care enough to dwell on it.
On the other side, her mother rolled her eyes. "You don't know anything about your daughter." Alright, that was the stern tone. The one she used when she was irritated with the situation.
"Or maybe you know too much about her, Marjo." He bit back, with the same sourness her mother had applied.
They exchanged a glare, and up to that day, she didn't understand why they were still together. "If I don't get involved in her life and help her improve herself then who will? Clearly not you."
The thing they should've been competing for was which one out of the two unnerved her the most. Not about who got more involved in her life. She wanted to tell them that, but as always, Sloane bit her tongue and waited for them to speak. To say what they disliked and what they liked, because that was the dynamic, and she was used to it being that way. They talked, and she listened.
Like most of the time, her father decided to ignore her mother's last comment and focused back on her. "Is this a serious thing, Sloane? Or is it one of your many whims? I only want to know."
Her brows creased on cue. He talked to her like she was a kid asking for new toys. "It's not a whim, Pa. We're together. Seriously."
"I quite like this one, Sloane. You have finally made a good choice." Her breath hitched, and she balled her hands into fists under the table. The points of her nails dug into her palm. "Did Aurora introduce you two? She works for Ferrari, right? I've always known she is a good influence on you. Not like those other friends of yours."
Why did they have to be like that? Why couldn't they make compliments like normal parents would? This guy is lovely, we're happy that you found someone great for you. Was that too hard to replicate? It always ended with one of them trying to belittle her no matter if the situation was positive.
"No, she didn't. She doesn't want to get involved."
Her father nodded, apparently pleased. "That's good. She's very smart." It wouldn't be surprising if the only thing she had in common with her parents was the mutual likeness they all had for Aurora. "Don't get me wrong, Charles seems like a great guy. I just didn't expect it."
"Well, he's the kind of guy she should be dating. I'm glad you're raising your standards, Sloane."
Whatever she wanted to say, she didn't. Sloane swallowed her words when Charles walked back into the room, apologizing once more for the interruption and saying his mom sent greetings. When he sat by her side again, she smiled at him, trying to forget the conversation with her parents. Marjo and Leo were all politeness again, no more glaring with her.
They weren't lying about liking him, or in her father's case, thinking he was a good guy. It was fine. Great, she thought.
As the conversation continued, she looked at him, and then at her parents. It felt normal, and for a moment, Sloane realised, out of the three, she was the only one feeling uncomfortable. Out of place. Charles smiled at her from time to time, sincerely, and she returned the smile whenever he did it. Her stomach felt in knots, and she resisted every time the urge to tell him she wanted to leave. He was getting along with her parents...and it should've made her feel good.
When it was time to leave, she received two kisses on each cheek from her mother, and a hug from her father. Charles couldn't stop mentioning how nice it'd been to meet them, her mother kissed him on the cheek, and her father patted him on the back, wishing him good luck for the next race.
In her eyes, the whole night had been utterly strange. In his, the other way around.
—
Her focus was nailed on the wine glass in front of her, each pour filling it more. Sloane narrowed her eyes when the content stopped spilling from the bottle, and she realised it was now empty. The glass half full. Well, it would do. Lifting the glass to her lips, she started sipping from it. Wine wasn't her favourite, but it had been a gift from Aurora's mom, and she usually ended up loving everything her best friend's parents gifted her.
Charles glanced at her from where he sat on the sofa, tilting his head and smiling when she fixed her gaze on his. They'd been a bit quiet since arriving from her parents' place, or she had been quiet while he asked questions about her childhood. The piano, the languages, her pet rabbit, ballet, all of the details her mother so thoughtfully — big sarcasm on here — had shared during dinner. He was so happy because he'd met her family, she could not ruin it by letting him know that she'd been anxious the entire time.
"Your parents seem nice." He casually mentioned.
She almost choked on the wine. "Huh?" The word fell against the rim of the glass while she took one last sip, and set it down on the counter with a soft clink.
"They were very nice. Your parents." Charles tried one more time, thinking she hadn't listened to him properly the first time.
She had, but the terms 'your parents' and 'nice' generally didn't go hand-in-hand. "Oh yes, they're alright." Her lips curved into a smile, a genuine one, because despite everything, it was good to see he'd enjoyed the evening.
Sloane walked over to him, heels discarded somewhere near the door, and dress a little wrinkly. Charles held her hand when she stood in front of him and prompted her to lay on the sofa, the same way they'd done it many times back in his apartment in Monaco. This time she was the one with her head on his lap, he looked down at her and traced her lips. She giggled at the tingling sensation it caused, and he bent as much as he could to steal a kiss. There was a sigh when he pulled away and started running his fingers on the side of her face.
"They liked you." She said with a tightness in her chest and tension in the pit of her stomach. "I mean, my dad said you seem like a great guy and my mom...well, she could not have been more delighted even if she tried. She talked a lot, which doesn't happen very often during these types of dinners." Marjo always had something to say about the people she brought home.
But not about Charles. Sloane would've received a text already if that had been the case. She liked him.
"Your dad is a little intimidating, I have to say." She scoffed. It wasn't like she could pretend he hadn't intimidated her sometimes. What with comparisons and never feeling enough. Ugh. "But I guess he cares about you and wants the best for you. Same with your mom. You're their daughter."
Ouch, that did hurt. She felt a pinch in her heart. He could not be farther away from the truth, but she would have to give her parents some credit because they were pretty good actors. It wouldn't be the first time they made someone believe the three of them were some sort of model family. Either that or Charles wasn't pretty good at reading demeanours and feelings.
She'd leave it on the first one.
"Aha." It was all she could give him as an answer. "Wait...we are really a serious thing now, aren't we? You've met my manager and now my parents as well, I know your mom and brothers. What comes next? Are you going to propose?" She teased with an eyebrow waggle. An attempt to move the topic to something she felt more comfortable with.
Thinking about her dynamic with him was far better than doing it about her parents.
Charles chuckled, softly pinching her cheek. "Don't give me ideas." He was so infatuated with her, he probably would by the end of the year or something. "Actually...I haven't unlocked one person in your life, who I think holds the most importance for you."
Ah, yes. Sloane snorted. "Yeah, good luck with that. You're not getting near her anytime soon, I can tell you as much."
"Come on, we practically work together. She can't avoid me forever, I need to hear embarrassing stories about you and I'm sure she has all of them." Her best friend indeed had been present, with first-row seats included, in her most humbling moments. "When we get married what is she going to do? Not go to the wedding because it might get her fired?"
"Charles." She shook her head, biting the inside of her cheek to keep herself from laughing too hard. "You keep saying when and not if, don't jinx it." He shrugged, all innocence and charm. "I wish Pierre was more like Aurora. I haven't been able to get rid of him at every race I've attended."
He grinned, and she reached to gently poke one of his dimples with the tip of her nail. "I told him to stop flirting with you." And it hadn't worked, apparently. He knew his friend did it mostly to banter with them, and that Sloane would never accept his advances anyway. She always looked on the verge of strangling the French guy. He didn't even feel threatened by Daniel who seemed to be the one she'd made friends with the most. "You know what? Let's have dinner all of us. You, me, Pierre and Aurora. Like a double date."
The snort that came out of her was so loud, she could feel it bubbling in her throat. "Do you want her to kill me or never speak to me again? No, thank you." She dismissed the idea with a hand gesture. Charles huffed but smiled nevertheless. "She'll come around, just give her time. Plus," She paused, and he raised an eyebrow, expectant. "I'd kill her if she misses my wedding."
"So you do want to marry me, see? I knew it." He jabbed her on the side, right under her ribs. "Don't jinx it."
It was the perfect time to tease him. "I didn't say you'd be the groom though."
Charles narrowed his eyes and smiled, starting a new round of tickles. Sloane pleaded in between chuckles for him to stop, that he would be the groom. The tickling and the laughs soon turned into kisses. Wine-flavoured kisses, Charles called them. The distraction had served its purpose, but if she kept thinking about her parents for the rest of the night until they went to bed, she tried not to show it.
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a/n:
sadly it's not sloane lore without her parents...also i did want to write a mirror chapter to the family one in barely legal because i think it's good to point out how one understood her better than the other🤭