The World According to Vince - A romantic comedy (Gym or Chocolate Book 2)

by Stuart Reardon

  Twenty minutes later, I had a fistful of money, hundreds of dollars, which I gave it to the shelter’s director who just stared at me.

  “There’ll be more where that came from,” I assured him.

  Then it was time for me to go home and take care of my own pack of hounds. Plus, I had some thinking to do. I knew I wasn’t the sharpest tool in the toy box, but I needed to come up with a plan to raise more money.

  My phone rang again but I ignored it. I might remember to check my messages when I got home, or I might not. I worked on the principle that if anything was important, they’d call back.

  Which turned out to be a tactical error if I was trying to win Gracie over, but I didn’t know that at the time.

  Grace

  I wanted to kill Vincent Azzo as slowly and painfully as possible, but right now I was too busy answering phone calls for him. Naturally, Vince wasn’t answering his phone, messages or emails—the knob-head was driving me insane.

  His little stunt outside the Supreme Court had gone viral and everyone wanted to know more. And since he’d named me as his lawyer, the press had hunted me down at work and had even gotten hold of my personal cell phone number.

  All three of my assistants were answering one call after another, and I had to give them something to say other than ‘my client has no further comment’.

  I’d drafted a statement on Vince’s behalf and emailed it to him but the asshole hadn’t even looked at it or replied to the half-dozen texts I’d sent him. How was I supposed to represent him when he wouldn’t answer his damn phone?

  Although to be fair, I’d never have guessed that social media would jump on this so quickly. I’d been blindsided and I guessed Vince had, too. So I fobbed off everyone by saying that Mr. Azzo would be releasing a statement later in the day.

  Everyone wanted to know if the dogs had been saved. I’d like to know the answer to that, too, and had tried calling the shelter but their line was constantly busy. I didn’t know what to make of it.

  I’d just finished up on yet another call, this time from a West Coast TV station wanting to know if my client would fly out for an interview, when senior partner Carl McCray knocked on my door and walked in before I could say anything.

  I sat up straight. Visits from one of the upper echelons to one of the minions was unheard of. Usually, you were summoned to the fifteenth floor by the assistant to the senior partner’s assistant.

  “Ms. Cooper, I’ve heard you’re much in demand today. An unusual client.”

  “Yes, sir. He’s … my pro bono work for the ABA. I like to keep up my hours.”

  “Good to hear but we’re closing on the Rogers & Cranston deal this week. We need you up to speed.”

  Stung, I carefully straightened my legal pad in front of me. “I’ve already emailed the third draft to be disseminated to all parties. There was an error in the covenant regarding future income tax filings. I’ve now rectified that. The project is up to speed at my end.”

  He gave a cool smile and nodded. “I know we can count on you, Grace. Now … your pro bono work is bringing our little company some publicity. I hope that will continue to be positive?”

  It was easy to read between the lines: your pro bono case is on TV, which means Kryll Group is on TV—don’t do anything that will reflect badly on the company: don’t fuck up.

  “It’s an interesting case,” I said, my answer deliberately noncommittal.

  He rapped his knuckles on my desk. “Bring your client to the staff party on Friday—I’d like to meet him.”

  My mouth dropped open. “The staff party?” I said faintly and utterly horrified.

  “Yes, the senior partners would like to meet the man who’s making the news.”

  He gave me a chilly smile and sauntered from my office.

  I rubbed my face twice before I remembered that I was wearing makeup. Today was turning out to be a complete nightmare. My phone rang again before I had time to think any further.

  By 6pm, Vince’s face was on every news channel, and the clip had garnered over 150,000 hits on YouTube. He was a ready-made celebrity, and everyone was contacting me, his lawyer.

  Fascinating factoid: the man who played Robin in the Adam West series of Batman has re-homed more than 15,000 dogs through his charity, and as he specialises in dogs like Great Danes, most are bigger than him.

  I couldn’t get a read on McCray but I guessed that the senior partners weren’t happy with me … unless I could turn this into a media coup for the company. I kind of hated them a little for that because it was supposed to be about homeless dogs, not how some very wealthy lawyers could spin this for their own benefit. But I was cynical enough to know how the corporate game was played.

  Vince still hadn’t replied to my messages and I needed a break. Luckily, I was meeting my BFF for an early supper before I headed back to the office to do my real job.

  Cady looked fabulous as always as she sashayed into the restaurant, plopped down at my corner table and immediately slid one of the blintzes I’d ordered onto her plate.

  “Grace, sweetie, you’ve got ugh-face. What’s up?”

  “My face is ugh?”

  “Stop stalling. What’s bothering you?”

  “Nothing,” I moaned.

  She peered across the table and raised an eyebrow.

  “I’ve been your best friend for 19 years and I know you. I call bullshit.”

  “I can’t tell you.”

  “What? Of course you can!”

  “I really can’t!” I whimpered, feeling utterly pathetic.

  “Hmm, well, mime it then.”

  “Mime it?”

  “Yes, you know, charades.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “As serious as my love of lemon-glazed donuts.”

  “Fine.”

  I leaned back in my seat and raised five fingers, then mimed the harbinger of my doom.

  “Um … five letters … um … it’s got a horn? A rhino? No? Uh, unicorn? Not a unicorn. Dinosaur?”

  “Ugh, no! You’re teasing me!” I yelped.

  “Well … could it be … knob-head?”

  I nodded.

  “So, is it Vince?”

  “Of course it is! You were enjoying that, weren’t you? You’re evil!”

  “Nah, I’m your BFF.”

  “Same thing.”

  “If you say so. So what’s the knob-head done now? Apart from getting himself arrested and his face appearing on every news channel and gossip website.”

  I dropped my head into my hands. “Isn’t that enough? Although it gets worse. He never answers his phone and I’ve promised a statement from him that reporters are waiting on. I thought four hours would be enough but so far he hasn’t even read my email or returned my calls! And that’s still not the worst of it!”

  Cady pulled a face. “There’s more? What’s up, Grace? You’re putting me off my blintzes, and that never happens.”

  “Nothing important,” I laughed hysterically.

  “It’s bothering you; you’re my bestie BFF…”

  “What are we, twelve?” I said snarkily.

  “…so if it matters to you, it matters to me.”

  “It sounds pathetic…”

  “Please! You listened to me whine about Rick last year, all moody about whether he liked me or not.”

  “You were never moody.”

  “Thank you, but that’s not the point. You’re re-directing, Counselor.”

  “I know. Okay, fine. I have no one to go to the annual staff party with. Again.”

  Cady blinked. “You hate the annual staff party. You usually go for five minutes then make an excuse and run for it.”

  “I hate it because I’m the only person there who doesn’t have a date. Everyone stares and looks sorry for me.”

  “Screw ‘em! You’re a strong, successful, beautiful…”

  “Thank you. You’re right, I know it. But I just feel…”

  “I’ll come with you,” sa
id Cady cheerfully. “I’ll be your date.”

  I gave a reluctant laugh. “Thanks, but the senior partners already think I’m a closet lesbian.”

  “Seriously? Did I already say screw ‘em? So spice it up. Let them think it! Anyway, I think you’re hot. But really, does it matter what they think?”

  “Unfortunately, yes, if I want to make partner any time in the next decade.”

  “That attitude is Stone Age!”

  “Welcome to corporate law. But Carl McCray came into my office today and that never happens. Then he mentioned Vince and all the press coverage and now he wants to meet him—at the staff party! It wasn’t a request!”

  Cady leaned back in her chair, her expression aghast. “Are you telling me that Vince is going to be your date to the annual staff party?”

  “YES!”

  “Wow! That’s … unexpected.”

  “You bet your ass it is! What am I supposed to do? It’ll be a disaster.”

  Cady finished her blintze. “At least it’ll be memorable.”

  I let my head rest on my arms and moaned.

  Then my phone rang.

  “It’s him! Knob-head!” I stared at the phone as if it was about to bite me.

  Cady picked it up and answered for me. “Vince, this is Cady. I hope you’re nowhere near Katz’s Deli because Grace wants to tear you a new asshole. Yup. You said it. Yup. Well, put it like this: one, she’s gotten no sleep last night because she was helping you; two, she’s gotten no work done all day because she was helping you; three, she’s emailed and messaged you a ton and you haven’t replied until now. Yup. That’s right. Yup. Hell, yeah! Your life hangs by a thread, buddy. Your excuses had better be outstanding.”

  She handed the phone to me with a smirk.

  “Vincent,” I said coldly.

  “Hey, Gracie!” he said, his voice only slightly chastened. “Sorry about that. Forgot to check me fookin’ phone. Happens all the time. But no worries, I’ve got good news! All them dogs have got homes! Every single one of them! And the shelter bloke says that dogs all over the city are being adopted. They’re calling me the Canine Crusader!”

  My mouth dropped open. “All the dogs? That’s fantastic!”

  “Yeah, right! But all the shelters are operating on tiny budgets, so I said I’d help them. I’m going to organise a Canine Crusader fashion show! I’ll get all me mates to donate stuff.”

  “A canine fashion show?” I said faintly.

  Cady’s eyebrows shot up as she listened to my half of the conversation.

  “Yeah! Fashion and dogs. I’m onto a winner, I fookin’ know it! I’ll do it during New York fashion week.”

  “That’s the week before Rick and Cady’s wedding,” I muttered, unable to keep up with the conversation.

  “Yeah, cool innit? So can you put that in the statement and send it to all them journos you were talking to? Cheers, Gracie!” His excited voice slowed and became more intimate. “So, if there’s anything I can ever do for you, you just have to ask.”

  I took a deep breath. At this moment in time, I really hated myself as much as I hated him.

  “I need a date for my annual staff party on Friday. You’re coming with me,” I grimaced as Cady just about killed herself laughing.

  “A date? On Friday? Sure thing, Gracie! That would be awesome. Tell Cady she and Rick are dog-sitting for us, yeah? That’ll be fookin’ fab! I knew you’d see sense in the end, babe.”

  I rested my head on my hands as despair rushed through me.

  “Just kill me now,” I whimpered.

  Cady spat out half her blintze, she was laughing so hard.

  “Some best friend you are,” I grumbled.

  Vince

  I was Grace’s date to her office party—things were looking up.

  The last few days had been crazy and I’d been doing interviews all over town as well as a bunch of online interviews. Sometimes I’d taken the kids with me, although Tap could be shy of strangers—it was either that or leave her home alone which I absolutely would not do. I’d even been on Cady’s morning radio show and Tap had snuggled up on her knee the whole time, the little traitor.

  And the news kept getting better—shelters in the city were almost empty, and even the harder to home dogs like older, large breeds were finding their forever families. They were even importing rescue dogs from other states. The idea of the fashion show was a goer and I was confident I’d get the people I needed. The Canine Crusader was on the case! I’d had a load of t-shirts made with my new Canine Crusader logo, and my IG and Facebook followers were buying them in bucket loads. I’d ordered a thousand and was about to run out. I’d paid a neighbor’s kid to mail them all out and slung him a few bucks, so everyone was happy. Even better, the kid worked from my house and Tap, Zeus and Tyson had really taken to him.

  I’d started to pull in a shit-ton of favors for the fashion show and promised a load more. But I knew it was going to be worth it. Uncle Sal had already spoken to Giorgio for me, and I had other people in the biz who I knew would help out. To be honest, it was fookin’ fantastic the number of people who wanted in on it.

  I grinned at Rick as I studied my reflection in the mirror.

  “I am a god and women can’t get enough of this fine specimen of manhood.”

  “You’re an idiot, and no woman in her right mind will have anything to do with you,” he said, playing some game on his phone.

  “Oi! You’re supposed to be me best mate!”

  “I am. The world is doomed.”

  I stared at myself in the mirror, liking what I saw. I flexed my muscles, counted my abs, then turned sideways to check out the peachy globes of my amazing arse.

  “Hot!” I grinned at my reflection. “Fookin’ hot!” I raised one eyebrow and turned to stare at Rick. “And you were supposed to be persuading Faith to go out with me and that tonight will be fab, but I didn’t notice you helping.”

  “Her name’s Grace.”

  “That’s what I said.”

  “Yeah, well, I can’t help you.”

  “Why not?”

  “Grace is my fiancée’s best friend.”

  I arched an eyebrow at myself in the mirror as I answered him. “So?”

  “I like her. I’m not telling her to go out with a tosser like you.”

  “Why are we best friends?” I laughed.

  “Limited choices.”

  “Nah, you love me really, mate.”

  “I feel sorry for you.”

  At that moment Cady came in from the back garden with Zeus and Tyson at her heels. Tap trailed behind looking sad. She knew that Rick and Cady were dog sitting for the evening and she hated it when I went out.

  Rick pulled Cady onto his lap, which was a brave move since she wasn’t a small weight.

  “Cady, tell Vince that Grace isn’t interested in him,” he said.

  “Course she is!” I defended.

  “Sorry, big guy,” said Cady with a smile. “She thinks that you’re a jerk—ya know, a knob-head.”

  Rick nodded in agreement but I turned back to the mirror, ignoring them both.

  “Nah, she’s into me, I can tell. Otherwise why would she invite me to her office party?”

  Cady sighed. “I didn’t want to be the one to tell you … wait, I actually really did want to tell you … but she thinks you’re a grade-A asshole, and the only reason she invited you is because her boss told her to.”

  “Prime stud, me.”

  Cady cringed. “I rest my case.”

  I glanced over and grinned at her. She was wearing a red sweater and it really suited her.

  “Yer tits are looking nice today, Cady. Very firm and fruity.”

  “Oh my God! I can’t believe you said that!” she bellowed.

  “Don’t talk about my fiancée’s tits,” Rick said, his voice a warning.

  “What? I was paying her a compliment.”

  “No,” Cady said patiently. “A compliment is saying my hair looks great or y
ou like my dress. A compliment is not staring at the girls and leering.”

  “I can’t help it,” I admitted. “Your tits are so big it’s like having another person in the conversation.”

  Cady slapped her forehead as Rick scowled. “You’re a lost cause.”

  “Nah, I just need the love of a good woman to put me on the right track. Like Faith.”

  Cady and Rick yelled in unison: “It’s Grace!”

  “Yeah, her. Top totty,” and I hid my smile.

  Cady turned to Rick. “Why are you friends with him?”

  “He’s like a stray puppy. I can’t throw him out now.”

  “He’s 6’4”!” she yelped.

  “He’s still an idiot,” Rick mumbled. “And a danger to himself.”

  “True,” Cady sighed.

  I winked at them both in the mirror. “I’m irresistible.”

  Cady tried once more to put me off.

  “No, Vince. The reason Grace doesn’t want to go out with you is because she has good taste.”

  “She wants a taste of my prime rib.”

  “I give up,” she sighed.

  I checked myself in the mirror once more then looked up as my door bell buzzed.

  “My cab’s here. Look after the kids for me and don’t get too crazy—no shagging in my bed—unless I can join in.”

  “Get outta here!” Cady laughed. “And be good to my girl!”

  “Always!” I grinned, then knelt to kiss the kids goodbye. “Group hug!”

  Tap licked my face. It was her way of forgiving me and saying, hurry home, Dad!

  The taxi ride to Grace’s apartment seemed to take forever as it slid through the slushy streets that Friday evening. I’d been surprised when she’d asked me to be her date to her annual office party, and my enthusiasm was only slightly blunted when I learned that it was only because her boss wanted to meet the Canine Crusader, but I was all about the opportunity. Grace and me and an evening out—I wasn’t going to waste it.

  At her apartment, I rang her bell and she buzzed me in. I was curious to see her place. I imagined it to be very tidy but classy and a bit uptight, like her.