"We're going where?" Vincent asks, his arms folded over his chest.

"South Africa."

"Because?"

"The orphanage is there." Grace answers, slipping out a blank notebook.

"And we're going to the orphanage why?"

"It's good publicity."

Vincent slowly nods, his bottom lip in-between his teeth as he leans back in his chair, a lock of his hair falling over his face.

"So, let me get this straight." He finally says after a lengthy silence. "You want to go to South Africa so I can get publicity there even though my company ,and almost 80% of it's branches, are here, in the U.S."

"Well, when you say it like that it sounds dumb." Grace says, her eyes narrowed as she pulls out a pen.

"How else am I supposed to say it, Ms.Fontanel? Please enlighten me."

"Ah, do I have to explain everything to you?" Grace groans, rubbing her hand against her face.

"I pay you to do that," Vincent answers, his eyes narrowing. "and you really shouldn't be complaining since you did decide to show up almost thirty-two minutes late."

Grace pushes herself deeper into the black chair.

"There was traffic." Grace weakly mumbles, her eyes just above Vincent's head.

"Sure, I believe you."

"Thanks." Grace says, pushing herself up the chair and reaching out for her computer.

A silence settles over them as Grace powers up her computer, enters the South African Airline website and types in the username and password from her phone onto the computer.

"I'm halfway done with our flight tickets I just need your information." Grace says, sliding her laptop toward him. "While you type I'll explain, okay?"

Vincent stiffly nods as he slides open his desk drawer and places a tan file down a second later.

"Most CEO's don't visit the places they donate to. They might go to the banquets and fancy fundraising parties but they never physical go and spend time with the people they're supposedly helping."

Grace pauses as he slips his ID and passport out the tan file and swiftly flips the small book open.

"You know where to put in the details, right?" Grace asks, leaning over the table.

"Yes, Ms.Fontanel." He says, pulling the computer closer to his body as he shoots Grace a dirty glare.

"I was just checking."

"Can you just continue explaining?"

"Fine." Grace mumbles, sitting back in the chair. "Where was I? Oh, so if you go and meet the people that you're helping it'll seem like you genuinely care and are invested in the bettering of other peoples lives unlike just throwing a couple of thousands into some random account titled 'Feed the Poor.'"

"I understand what you're saying," He says, his fingers tapping away at the keyboard. "But I still fail to see how that will better my company."

"I'm pretty sure I explained this to you just a couple days ago." Grace groans, throwing her head back.

"No, I don't think so." He says, his eyes flickering over his ID. "Correct me if I'm wrong but I believe you were in jail a couple days ago, so how you'd get that information to me from behind bars is quite a remarkable feat."

"Will you stop bringing that up?" Grace whispers, her brows furrowed as a flush of heat rises out her chest. "I mean two days in jail doesn't make me a jail bird and it wasn't even real jail."

"Sure it wasn't." He answers, sliding the computer back to Grace.

"You're unbelievable." Grace mumbles, her eyes quickly scanning the screen as she quickly types in her remaining information too.

"So, will you explain?"

"Explain what?" Grace breathes out, her eyes flickering to his for a brief second.

"Ms.Fontanel."

"Fine," Grace grumbles. "but you're going to have to wait. I can't type and talk."

A comfortable silence passes over the two as Grace's fingers against the keyboard fill up the silence. A few minutes later Grace sticks her hand out towards him.

"What?" Vincent says, tearing his eyes away from the closed door and eyeing Grace's open palm.

"Card." Grace answers, her eyes trained on the screen.

"Who's?" He grates, pushing his chair back a bit as hard look covers his face.

Here we go again.

"Yours."

"Mine?"

"Yes..."

Grace pauses as she watches he's eyes become colder and he's posture straighten out almost mimicking a snake when backed into a corner and it's only option is to attack.

"Are you okay?" Grace asks, pushing the computer back and grinding her palms against each other.

"No, I'm not."

"Why?"

"Why? You're honestly asking me why?" He says, his voice as sharp as a blade.

"Yes." Grace whispers, slowly rolling her chair back.

"Well, whenever I'm around you all I do is spend." He says, stiffly weaving his fingers together. "Do you know how many times I had to review the company's budget?"

"Budget?" Grace asks, her eyes drawn to the ceiling in confusion. "Look, you don't spend any money on or with me. It's not like we hangout or anything."

Grace defiantly crosses her arms over her chest as she meets his cold glare with her own burning eyes.

"The limo that you ordered?" He asks, tilting his head to the side. "Who do you think paid for that?"

"Okay, fine, I'll give you that but what else have you 'spent on me'?"

A beat of silence passes as the two shoot daggers at each other.

"See, you don't even have a proper case against me." Grace complains, sticking her hand out towards him again. "You're just being a miser, yes, a silly miser. I'm doing this for you, for your company. You're acting as if I'm using your money to pay for a Dolce & Gabbana wristwatch."

"I don't-" He starts, slowly tapping his fingers against the table.

"You don't what?" Grace interrupts.

"Just give me the computer." He says tightlipped.

"Thank you." She whispers under her breath as she slides the computer to him. "You have to make everything so difficult."

Grace's heel hits against the floor for the umpteenth time , her eyes wandering towards the clock and back to Vincent only to find him still entering the credit card information with caution and hesitation. His fingers slowly typing in each letter and every number.

"Okay, what are you doing now?" Grace asks, as his eyes flicker around the screen. "You're done entering the details can you give me back the computer?"

His eyes slowly move off the screen until they meet Grace's.

"I'm double checking everything." He says. "If I'm going to pay for something I want it to be perfect; no mistakes."

"Whatever." Grace whispers as she sees his fingers hovering over the keyboard. "What's wrong?"

"Business class?" He asks, his grey eyes back on Grace.

"Yes, we're going for business therefore we arrive and depart with business class."

He slowly nods as his fingers quickly tap on the keyboard and stop just a second later.

"What did you just change?"

"Oh, just made a minor error with my name." He says, hitting the enter key as he slides the computer back to Grace.

A second passes before they're tickets pop up, the option to either print or email the tickets on the screen.

"And we're all done." Grace sighs after typing in her email address and shutting the laptop. "About time."

"So, what is the plan?" He says, standing up from his chair.

"Well, that's for me to plan and for you to find out."

"Just great."