When questioned about her relationship in an interview, J. J. Pearce said it was fate that brought her and Vincent Giallo together. Fate, and her decision to splurge on a professional shoot for her author photo.
Vincent was her photographer’s assistant. Between shifts in lighting, setting, and costuming (she had the photographer booked for two hours, she was going to use him for all he was worth) Jacqueline Pearce and Vincent started talking. He asked her all sorts of questions. Was she excited for her book to come out? What was it about, anyway? How long had she been a writer? Did she want to grab dinner this weekend?
She was really excited about the book. It was about a group of teens trying to cover up a murder together, a very I Know What You Did Last Summer affair. This was her first book, so not very long at all. Oh, that wasn’t a real answer? …her whole life. She’d always been a writer. Sure. Yeah. Okay.
It was March. When they met up for dinner the weather was dark and wet. Somehow, it wasn’t something he’d accounted for when he made reservations. They were stuck at an outside table, the breeze biting her cheek. Normally she would have ordered wine with dinner, but she needed something hot so she had coffee. Conversation was difficult because they had to try to talk through the chatter of their teeth.
She would have written it off as a bad date if it wasn’t for Vincent’s sincere floundering at the situation. He apologized and berated himself over and over about it. He asked her lot of questions about it. Was she okay? It was too cold out here, wasn’t it? Did she want his coat?
Yes, she was fine. It was pretty cold, that was true. Wasn’t it supposed to snow later this week again? Sure, if he wanted to give her his coat she would take it.
And he gave it to her without fuss. It was warm from his residual body heat and very comfortable from constant wear. Vincent wasn’t a huge guy and she wasn’t a tiny girl, but she felt swallowed up in it. It made her feel secure. Across from her in the dim candlelight, she watched Vincent shiver. It was incredibly endearing.
By the look on his face when she returned his coat at the end of the date, he was surprised she asked for a second one.
Vincent Giallo was nothing but calculated. There was no such thing as a surprise. Every aspect of him was meticulously crafted to appeal to her. She had a self centered tenderness to her. For the selfish aspect, he asked about her book and her other successes. He pretended to show interest in stroking her vanity. Then, on the date itself, he exhibited an ineptitude she would find endearing. He was flustered by her and her beauty and success, and in that flustered state he’d blundered on the kind of reservation to make. Then, of course, he offered her his coat to keep away the cold. He played up how cold he himself was so she would be touched by his act of selflessness for her sake. He was cold, but it didn’t matter as long as Jacqueline was warm.
While pretending to shiver, he was worried he may have been overdoing it. Luckily, though, it seemed Jacqueline fell right for it. She kissed him on the cheek and asked if she could go out with him again.
Perfect.
His plan was already coming to fruition.
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