"He's real special, isn't he?" Florinda asks leaning against the door.

"Who?"

"Mr.Maxwell." She says, walking over to the bathroom sink. "He actually forced you to come to work today even though you'll be here, like what? Two hours."

"I know." Grace says, drying her hands and leaning against the counter. "I planned on spending the day at home packing and sorting some stuff up with my neighbour but at around seven last night he sends this text..."

Grace quickly pulls her phone out her back pocket and open up the message.

" 'You better not be thinking about skipping work.'" Grace says, her voice almost as deep and bland as his. "Ug, the nerve."

"Why did you come anyway? I would have just stayed and home and pretended as if I didn't see the text."

"iPhone," Grace mumbles, waving her phone in the air. " there's this little message that shows up next to your text telling the other person that you've read it."

"And this is why I love my Samsung." Florinda teases, her eyes shining against the bathroom lights.

"Shut up." Grace grumbles, tugging up her light blue jeans for the last time and walking out the bathroom towards Florinda's desk in the buildings lobby.

"Tell me, how have you not been fired yet?" Grace asks, leaning against the desk as Florinda throws herself onto her large brown chair.

Florinda lifts her brow.

"You're always anywhere but here and your bathroom breaks are way too long and often."

"I'm too pretty to be fired, boo." She teases, throwing her brown hair behind her shoulders and batting her lashes. "Who else would catch the executives' attention? Karin from accounting? Oh, please."

"Humble." Grace says, placing her elbows against the desk.

"I know." She answers, leaning back and pulling out a Grazia magazine from behind a stack of files. "So, South Africa?"

"Yep." Grace whispers, her eyes flickering around the busy lobby.

"You excited?"

"Uh..." Grace drawls out, her feet shifting uncomfortably.

"What? Don't want a vacation with Mr. Serious face?" Florinda mumbles, her eyes briefly meeting Grace's before they focus back on the magazine.

"It's not a vacation it's work."

"That's what she said."

"You're impossible." Grace laughs, her shoulders relaxing again.

"Seriously though, have you ever been?" She asks, flipping the page. Grace catches a brief picture of Zendaya in bright red suit.

"To South Africa?" Florinda nods. "Yes...I have."

"Really?" Florinda says, her brows lifted as she tosses her magazine to the side. "Do you have relatives there?"

"Are you asking that because I'm black?" Grace deadpans.

Florinda turns bright red, her face puffing out as her eyes widen.

"What..no...I would never....I'm just." She flounders, her hand over her mouth.

"I'm joking, girl." Grace laughs, her bottom lip between her teeth as she places a hand on her shoulder. "Calm down."

"You suck." Florinda grates, playful pushing Grace's hand back.

"I had to play that card." Grace jokes, putting her weight against the desk. "It was the perfect opening."

"Don't talk to me anymore." Florinda mumbles, her mouth in a tight pout.

"Aww, don't be like that." Grace says, walking behind the desk and grabbing onto her shoulders.

Florinda huffs, turning her gaze onto the floor.

"Will you forgive me if I buy you a coffee?" Grace mumbles against her shoulder.

"Two."Florinda mumbles, briefly glancing at Grace.

"Deal."

"For a week."

"Uh, girl you just trippin' now." Grace says, pushing Florinda's chair forward and quickly ducking as a file narrowly misses her bun.

"You almost hit me." Grace gasps, her hand on her heart.

"That was the point."

"And to think you're the first person somebody sees when walking into this building." Grace says, shaking her head in disapproval. "They'll probably think M&P are a bunch of violent people who throw things at each other."

"Oh, shut up." Florinda mumbles, pushing her chair in.

"Rude but what's the time?" Grace asks, craning her neck around the computer. "I don't want Mr. Serious getting upset at my tardiness, again."

"Almost eleven twenty."

"Shucks." Grace mutters, pushing herself off the desk. "I better go fetch my stuff from the car."

"Where you guys meeting?" Florinda asks, standing up for a hug.

"Outside the building at half past."

"I'll miss you." She mutters, hugging Grace over the desk. "Who else am I going to gossip with in the bathroom?"

"Karin from accounting?" Grace says, shrugging.

"You're the worst." Florinda whines, pushing Grace back. "Just go away, now, before you go to South Africa with a blue eye."

"I'm shivering." Grace mumbles as she slowly makes her way to the elevators.

"You should be!"

"Yeah, yeah."

"You're late, you're always late." Vincent grumbles, roughly tugging Grace's suitcase out her hands and tossing it into his old ford.

"Hey, watch it! That's Gucci." Grace complains walking over to the boot to check on her bag. She shrinks back when she feels him glare at her. "My bag better be okay."

Grace smoothly steps into the car-properly opening the heavy door for the first time-and quickly buckles up. Her body jumps when she hears the car door slamming shut.

"I'd be careful if I were you, the way this car so old I wouldn't be surprised if the rear-view mirror fell off from all that shaking." Grace says, eyeing the mirror and the way it sits against the window; like it's holding on for dear life.

"Then let's use your car then." He mutters, his grey eyes raging.

Instead of going off on him Grace holds back a laugh when she sees the dashboard, completely dust-free almost shining under the sun's rays.

"You cleaned the dashboard." Grace says, barely containing her laughter as Vincent starts the car and drives onto the busy street towards the airport. "I'm impressed."

Vincent's eyes briefly flicker to hers before focusing back on the road. Grace leans back against the seat, her arm on the weathered leather armrest as she eyes him. Despite the impending fifteen hour flight to Johannesburg, South Africa, Vincent still chose to wear his famous Armani suit. Today he settled for a light grey suit jacket and pants coupled with a white shirt and black suit pocket handkerchief.

I wonder if he owns any other clothes other than suits and sportswear.

Rolling her eyes back, Grace eyes drift outside to watch the passing trees and buildings and just as her eyes slowly flicker shut the car lurches forward before stopping.

"We're here." Vincent says, roughly pulling the key out and stepping out the car.

That was quick.

Grace slowly climbs out the car, stretching her arms out and leaning back to crack her back.

"Why are we in the south basement parking?" Grace asks, sleepily making her way to the boot.

"Where else would we park." He mutters, gracefully lifting Grace's Gucci bag.

Grace blanches as she roughly grabs her bag's handle and begins walking towards the entrance.

"I mean the terminals are all the way on the other side of the airport." Grace says, once he falls in line with her. "We practically have a twenty minute walk."

"Stop exaggerating." He grates, pushing his hair back as he tightens his grip on his duffel bag.

"Is that all you packed?" Grace asks, eyeing the small bag.

"Yes."

Obviously he doesn't know South African weather.

"Okay then."

The two briskly walk through the entrance, passing embracing couples and noisy children as they walk towards the check-in counter. Grace squeezes past a large man who thought standing in the middle of the busy hall would be a good idea.

"Idiot." Grace mumbles, briefly looking back and shoving her suitcase closer to her body.

"Welcome to SAA." A petite dark skinned woman calls from behind the S.A.A terminal desk. "Can I please see your boarding pass?"

"Oh, right here." Grace says, shoving past Vincent and handing the woman the printed papers.

"Passports?"

Grace quickly grabs Vincent's from his hand and grabs hers from her purse before sliding them over to the woman.

"Perfect, your flight is in forty-five minutes and if you can please go through those gates where you'll find a couple more desks. There you'll just follow what they say and hand them the necessary information and you'll be well on your way ."

"Thank you." Grace mumbles, taking back the tickets and the passports before lifting her bag onto the conveyor belt and watching it slide away. "Aren't you going to drop your bag off?"

"No."

Oh, you just don't want to pay the extra cost.

"Well, have fun lugging that thing around."