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

by Stuart Reardon

  And then there was just Vince left, making his final appearance to the theme from Superman. I gasped when I saw him, and he winked at me as I placed Tap carefully into his arms.

  He’d shed the pink pants and the Armani jacket and was wearing a gold Lycra body suit that showed every muscle, ripple and bulge, with his Canine Crusader logo on his chest, a long green and red cape that flowed behind him with a sort of hood that had—oh God—floppy dog ears.

  Behind him, with Tyson in the lead, the other dogs were walking in the shape of a perfect V-formation, beautifully behaved.

  He paused at the end of the catwalk, raised his fists in the air and shouted out, “I am the Canine Crusader! Throw your fookin’ money in the bucket on your way out! Yeah!” and all the dogs started barking in agreement.

  A laugh followed by a soft sigh rose from the audience, and then everyone was on their feet, clapping and cheering. Tap looked up briefly, licked Vince’s face, and the assembled photographers went crazy as the other nine dogs galloped around the stage for a final moment of mayhem.

  When Tap followed Vince back up the runway, the audience realized she had just three legs, and the sound of cheering and applause was enough to raise the roof.

  I was so proud of Vince.

  Words I never thought I’d say.

  “That was incredi—” I began as he strode from the stage, but Vince picked me up in his arms, swung me around, then carried me the length of the catwalk as my cheeks turned fire-engine red.

  “This is Gracie Cooper!” Vince bellowed over the laughter and shouted encouragement. “She’s me lawyer!” and then he kissed me soundly, deliberately, lovingly.

  And me? I couldn’t help melting.

  Just a little.

  Vince

  I woke up with a tongue in my ear and hot breath on my neck.

  If my dreams were coming true then I’d open my eyes and see Gracie lying naked next to me, but when I rolled over, Tyson was grinning at me and Zeus had jumped onto the bed, then stood on my chest and peered down into my face. Little Tap’s nose appeared at the side of the bed and she whined, unable to join in the fun.

  “Alright, alright,” I yawned, “it can’t be that late.”

  But when I looked at my phone it was two hours beyond the team’s usual breakfast time. They must have been busting for a piss by now.

  “Aw, thanks for letting me have a lie-in, guys,” I yawned, then flailed about to find a pair of sweats before I took them to the backdoor, shivering when the cold air hit me.

  They lolloped happily around the backyard as I stared up at the overcast New York sky, wondering if it was going to snow again.

  The fashion show had been a massive success and donations were still rolling in more than two weeks later. Press coverage had been fookin’ fab and the photo of Molly covered in dog shit had gone viral. Couldn’t have happened to a nicer person.

  I’d already been asked about doing the show again next year. I wanted to, but fook me, it had been hard work. And I was smart enough to know that I wouldn’t have been able to do any of it without Gracie’s mad organizational skills, Cady’s media contacts and good humor, and Rick’s quiet support. I had some bloody good mates.

  Mates. I brooded over the word. I wanted to be more than mates with Gracie, and despite the fact that we’d worked closely together on the fashion show, I hadn’t completely cracked that hard shell of hers.

  The catwalk kiss had been completely on impulse but felt fantastic. She’d grabbed me by my ears (my costume ears, thankfully) and gave as good as she got, but then she hadn’t returned my calls since. Was I back to just being Rick’s knob-head friend?

  I shivered again and headed inside, then caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, flexed my biceps and grinned. Nah, she wanted me. She just didn’t know it yet, poor luv. The Vin-meister never gave in!

  I wondered how I could impress her. Maybe if I organized Rick’s stag night without us getting arrested?

  My first thought for the big event had been to rent a Caribbean island, import the strippers from Thailand and have a mud-wrestling competition, but it turned out that my budget of $2,000 wasn’t going to cut it, even with the deals I could get from some air stewardesses I knew. For the flights, not the mud-wrestling, although some of those girls could get pretty wild.

  To be honest, Rick was being boring as fook and kept saying he didn’t want a big party or anything crazy, so naturally my job as best man was to ignore him. He’d definitely want to remember his stag night when we’re a couple of wrinkled old gits.

  Thankfully, two of his old rugby friends were flying out from England today and I knew they wouldn’t let him get away with doing nothing. I’d booked their flights and hotel, but Rick refused to invite anyone else, even from his own gym, and Cady’s soldier brother was on deployment and wouldn’t get back until the rehearsal dinner. That was a shame—Army blokes knew how to party hard. Luckily, two guys from the fashion show were up for a laugh, so there’d be six of us commiserating on Rick’s decision to chain himself to Cady for the rest of his life.

  I liked Cady, I did, but she had bigger balls than most blokes and she was loud.

  Still, I had plans and I was getting through my list:

  Friends from UK, sorted √

  Clothes for the night, sorted √

  Transport, sorted √

  Entertainment, stage one sorted √

  I just had to figure out the best place for a stripper competition. This was Manhattan, baby, and there were a ton of places to choose from. I was like a pig in muck planning it all.

  But the first note that I might have bitten off more than I could chew was when Rick called me an hour after breakfast.

  “This is the Vin-meister at your service.” I could hear him breathing but he wasn’t saying much. “Alright, Rick?”

  “I just got a call from Leon. He said you booked his and Ben’s flights from the UK.”

  “Yep, all booked up, and the hotels.”

  “You got the date wrong.”

  “Eh, no I didn’t. Arriving at lunchtime today, stag night tomorrow, hangover Friday, wedding on Saturday.”

  “Their flights arrive on Friday lunchtime.”

  My stomach clenched. “Nah, not possible, mate. I checked.”

  “So did Leon when he went to check-in for the flight that should have been an hour ago.”

  Rick definitely sounded a tad testy.

  “I’m sure it’s just a mistake,” I said weakly. “Let me look into it and I’ll call you back,” cutting off his comment that he knew it was a mistake.

  But when I studied the booking, I saw that I’d definitely made a balls up. My head dropped into my hands. It was Rick’s fault for leaving a dickhead like me to organize his stag night.

  I phoned the airline and felt a jolt of hope when they told me that they could exchange the tickets—but only for flights on Thursday, but not till the evening, and the penalty fee would be $950 for two.

  That was pretty rubbish since it meant they’d miss Rick’s big event tomorrow night anyway. I looked up other airlines but the prices were nuts, and when I found my balls and called Rick back, I admitted defeat.

  “I’m sorry, buddy, I fooked up.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” he sighed. “I didn’t want to have a stag party anyway.”

  “Are you kidding me? We’re still going!” I yelped. “Rafe and Elias are up for it.”

  “I hardly know them,” Rick said in a grumpy voice

  “Which is good, ‘cause they won’t know what a miserable bastard you are,” I answered cheerfully.

  “And I thought they hated each other.”

  “Not this week. I’ll be at your place tomorrow at six.”

  “Why so early?”

  “Got a lot to pack in, mate,” and I hung up before he could argue anymore.

  Not only that, I wanted to prove to Gracie that she wasn’t the only one who could organize a night to remember.

  She’d pl
anned and executed Cady’s bachelorette party last weekend like a military exercise with a printed itinerary and comments in the margins—something I’d spotted when I’d visited Rick’s apartment—and nobody had been naked, lost, or arrested. It sounded tame to me. Cocktails at the Aviary on the Upper West Side with views across the city from the 35th floor and a new cocktail invented by some famous mixologist named for the woman of the hour, ‘Cady’s Easy Street’—meh; dinner at Boqueira on Second Avenue where they made Cady’s favorite Churros con Chocolate and individualized party candies—too girly; champagne at Be Cute in Brooklyn, a famous drag bar where they’d danced till dawn—whatever: Gracie, Cady and twenty-five of Cady’s nutso friends. Gracie had even organized a London bus to drive them around with a singing conductor—puh-leeze.

  I was pretty certain I could top that. Whatever happened, it was going to be an epic stag night.

  Gracie and Cady were already unsteady when I opened my front door at five o’clock the following day and found them leaning against the wall. I wondered if they were in a fit state to look after the kids, but Tap headed straight for Gracie and Zeus jumped into Cady’s arms.

  I was relieved Tyson didn’t try that trick or he’d have flattened her.

  “You girls been hitting the booze already?”

  “Yes, Dad,” snorted Cady, and thrust a plastic bag at me that rattled with the sound of bottles.

  Gracie tottered inside with a massive pizza box under one arm and a bag full of donuts, chocolate, candies and Milk-Bones in the other. Tap followed her faithfully and they settled on the sofa together.

  “So what’s the plan, ladies?” I asked with a grin. “Porn Hub and eating chocolate dicks?”

  “Yes,” said Gracie, and my smile fell.

  Cady sniggered. “Well, it’s a sort of porn: nostalgia porn.”

  “What’s that?” I asked, wondering if this could be a niche market I hadn’t covered in my Fans Only IG.

  “Well, let’s see: there’s Dirty Dancing, of course; followed by either Footloose—the original because, yeah, Kevin Bacon, why wouldn’t you?—or Step Up, although Grace put in a vote for Strictly Ballroom because she thinks Paul Mercurio is hot in it, but I’m still holding out for Magic Mike; and then Ghost when we get to the weepy part of the evening.”

  I scratched my head. “Whatever grooves your truffles, ladies. Look after the kids. I’ll be back, um, some time.”

  I kissed the kids goodbye, and even Tap seemed happy enough curled up between Grace and Cady, and Zeus was already snoring on Cady’s lap. Tyson was stretched out under the coffee table which made me wince. He always forgot where he’d fallen asleep, then tried to stand when he woke up and headbutted the table. Every time. I had no idea why it was his favorite place.

  “Right, I’m off! Stay out of trouble,” I grinned at them.

  “Enjoy the bachelor party, but not too much, Vincent,” Cady said. “I’m warning you!”

  Gracie met my eyes for the first time even though hers were slightly crossed. “Don’t get arrested because I’m not coming. Or going. But definitely not coming.”

  A squiffy Grace was very, very cute and I wanted to kiss the scowl off her face.

  Sighing, I left them to it and jumped in the taxi they’d arrived by, then headed over to Rick’s.

  Grace

  “Ooh freeze and burn!” Cady snickered.

  “What?”

  “You were so cool with Vince, I could see icicles dripping from every word.”

  I shifted on the large sectional, making myself more comfortable without moving Tap.

  “No, I wasn’t. I just don’t want him getting any ideas, especially crazy ones,” I said defensively.

  Cady shrugged. “Vince already has ideas: I see them flashing across his face every time he looks at you.” She paused. “At least tell me you don’t hate him, because I saw that steamy lip lock you had with him at the end of the fashion show. Everyone did. Woah, call the Fire Department and bring a bucket of water!”

  I shook my head. “I don’t hate him. And it was a very nice kiss.”

  “Nice? Damned by faint praise!”

  “Okay, it was a great kiss,” I admitted sheepishly, “but that was just because of adrenaline from the show.”

  “What if it wasn’t?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “What if it wasn’t just the adrenaline rush? What if you two have genuine chemistry?”

  “I doubt it.”

  “Well, Counselor, to test that theory, you’d need to stage a re-enactment.”

  “I’ve had too many glasses of wine to have a sensible conversation,” I replied, dodging her suggestion.

  Cady grinned at me. “Then don’t have a sensible conversation—tell me how you feel.”

  “I don’t want to go to work anymore.”

  The words leapt out of me before I had a chance to analyse them or call them back.

  Cady blinked at me. “You don’t want to work at Kryll’s? What’s that got to do with Vince?”

  “Nothing, everything! It’s hard to explain.”

  “Grace, I’m your oldest friend. Have another glass of wine and try. I won’t judge you. Much.”

  We each poured another glass of wine as in the background Baby announced, ‘That was the summer of 1963’.

  Fascinating factoid: the actress Jane Brucker who played Baby’s older sister also co-wrote the epic talent show song, ‘Hula Hana’.

  “Vince is really disorganized,” I began.

  “True. And?”

  “I’m super organized. I hate mess, I hate being late for things, I hate my to-do list not being finished at the end of the day. I work hard to be the best on details; I find mistakes in other lawyers’ work all of the time and I fix them. That’s why the partners pay me well. Their wages and bonuses have been enough to keep me from looking around elsewhere. They’ve hinted that next year I’ll make partner myself—in one of the most powerful and prestigious law firms in New York. And I’ll have done it before I’m 40.”

  Cady nodded. “Go on.”

  “I work 14 hours six days a week, sometimes more. I take work home with me most nights. And I don’t mind that, I really don’t. I take a hot yoga class once a week and I get to have lunch with my bestie most Mondays…”

  “When you don’t cancel on me.”

  “I know, I hate that.”

  “It’s okay. Ooh look! She’s carrying a watermelon. Sorry, go on. What’s this got to do with Vince? Although I think I can guess.”

  “Vince’s life is chaos and…”

  “Woah, woah! Objection, Counselor! Look around you. Do you see any chaos in his home? Does he ever forget to feed or walk his dogs? Has he ever left beer bottles or pizza boxes lying around when we’ve visited? Are there dirty skivvies under his bed? Is there a scurf line around his tub? I bet you’ve looked! Vince’s home is neat and tidy, and he doesn’t even have a cleaner, he does it all himself.” She gave me a hard look. “You’re over-ruled.”

  “Okay, fine, his apartment is tidy but his life isn’t. He models in his underwear for his online fans. He teases them with his you-know-what! His latest sponsor makes S&M leisure wear! And before you ask, I know because he told me and because I read the contract for him. His life is just…”

  Cady grabbed my hand as I started to get agitated. “Okay, just breathe for a minute before your OCD kicks in for real.”

  I took a shuddering breath, annoyed to find that I had tears in my eyes as my chest felt constricted. Then Tap licked my arm, giving me a worried look.

  “I’m okay, precious,” I said. “Mommy Gracie is just having a midlife crisis meltdown.”

  She wagged her tail cautiously, and Cady chuckled.

  “I think she understands you and she says that it’s okay for life to be messy because we can’t control everything around us. If we try, we’ll always be disappointed. People are messy and contrary and a pain in the ass, but if you dismiss all those things, you’ll dismiss everything that�
�s quirky and different, too.”

  I sniffed and gave her a watery smile. “Tap says all that?”

  “She is a very wise dog. She’s very fond of you and she worries when you’re upset.”

  I stroked Tap’s soft fur as she nestled against my hip, slowly relaxing again. “She’s very special to me, too. Did you know that Vince rescued her from Dubai and spent months getting her well enough to travel home?”

  “Yeah, I heard that story. Pretty incredible.”

  “He is incredible,” I said softly. “Everything he’s done as the Canine Crusader is amazing…” I shook my head. “I never thought he’d do any of it, but he’s proved me wrong.” I looked up at Cady. “He’s not just a knob-head, is he? Not just a big joke.”

  Cady shook her head. “No, he’s not.”

  I sighed. “You know he bought me a stripper pole for my office as a late birthday present?”

  Cady sniggered. “Yeah, that was an epic fail!”

  “Well, I decided to try it out.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I took a class at Rick’s gym.”

  “You took a pole-dancing class?”

  “Yes, I was terrible, but I really enjoyed it.”

  Cady eyed me with interest. “Would you do it again?”

  “Maybe. It was fun. It made a change from yoga.”

  Cady lifted her eyebrows. “And what wisdom have you concluded from this interesting departure from your nice, tidy life?”

  “Ugh, you make me sound so boring!”

  “No, but you’re careful. You plan things, and there’s nothing wrong with that. But then you get upset when your perfect plans are torpedoed by life, and that stresses you out. I’m happy that you decided to shake things up a little.”

  I gave a quiet laugh. “I think being Vince’s lawyer has taken care of that! But at the fashion show, there was a moment—well, several—when I thought it was going to be a complete disaster, but even though it was totally chaotic, it was fun.”

  “I certainly laughed my ass off when a certain someone’s shit hit the fanny,” and Cady high-fived me as we both enjoyed that particular memory.