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

by Stuart Reardon

  Finally, my door rattled and a police officer told me that my attorney was waiting for me in an interview room.

  I had a huge smile on my face when I saw Gracie sitting at the table, her lawyer briefcase next to her chair and a notebook lined up in front of her with two pencils.

  “Gracie!” I grinned.

  She looked up, her face unmoving. “Vincent, we must stop meeting like this.”

  Her tone was a tad cool but fair enough—I’d left her getting happily plastered with Cady for a girls night in, and now she was at another police station after midnight saving my sorry arse.

  She pointed to a chair that was bolted to the floor opposite her and then introduced me to a dude sitting next to her. Somehow I hadn’t seen him when I’d walked into the room.

  Pow! This is what love is like! I only have eyes for Gracie! Fook me!

  My smile grew wider.

  “Vincent, allow me to introduce you to Mr. Greg Pinter, Central Park Zoo Director.”

  The dude stood up and offered his hand to me. “Mr. Azzo, it’s a pleasure, sir! A great pleasure! We at Central Park Zoo can’t thank you enough for bringing Jabari back to us safe and sound.” His voice dropped as he finished pumping my hand and slumped back into his chair, rubbing his forehead. “To be honest, this would have been a total PR disaster if it hadn’t been for your timely assistance. Jabari is completely harmless, as you know, but if he’d wandered into traffic … and he is quite scary if you don’t know him.” He rubbed his forehead again. “The welfare of all our animals and the safety of the general public is our primary concern, always. Tonight … well, there are questions to be answered … but I wanted to give you my personal assurance that the small matter of burglary…” he waved his hand in the air. “Forgotten! Never happened. And, ah, I know it’s hardly the appropriate time, but I couldn’t let this fortuitous meeting go by without asking if you’d consider being a Patron of the Zoo?”

  I glanced at Gracie, feeling like I’d just been slapped around the face with a wet kipper, and still a little confused.

  “So … I’m not being arrested?”

  Gracie shook her head. “Not tonight, Vincent,” she said with something approaching a smile. “Although I’m sure there will be other opportunities.”

  “Mr. Azzo,” the suit-dude began again, “you’ve become an icon for animal welfare in this city—your voice has shouted louder than we’ve ever been able to. If you were our Patron—an advocate for the animals, you might say—you could continue that with a framework of…”

  “Eh, cheers and all that,” I interrupted him, “but I’m not good with frameworks,” and I shook my head.

  “He’s really not,” Grace added with a smirk. “Rules, frameworks, laws—he breaks out in hives.”

  I blinked. Had she just made a joke? Things were definitely looking up.

  I grinned at her.

  “The thing is,” I said, turning back to suit-dude, “I don’t like seeing animals in cages. Safari parks, yeah, I get that, for breeding programs, but zoos … it’s not really me.”

  Suit-dude deflated but nodded understandingly. “Well, perhaps I can entice you and Ms. Cooper to visit—in daylight…” and he laughed carefully. “So you can see the extent of our conservation efforts and work to preserve wild habitats. I assure you, our resources reach beyond Central Park,” he said seriously, then gave a kind smile. “And you can visit Jabari. I believe he’s become rather attached to you.”

  “Alright, you’re on!” I said, brightening up at that prospect. “It’ll be good to visit my buddy.”

  Then we all shook hands and the suit-dude left the room.

  “That was unexpected,” I said cheerfully.

  “Very,” Gracie agreed, packing up her briefcase. Then she looked up. “A lion, Vincent? Really?”

  “It just sort of happened,” I said lamely and shrugged.

  “Only to you,” she muttered, snapping closed her briefcase.

  “It’s great to see you,” I said more softly and she looked up, her expression unreadable. I cleared my throat. “On a scale of one to ten, how mad at me are you?”

  She waved her hand dismissively. “It’s not me you have to worry about.”

  “It’s not?”

  She gave an amused smile. “No, but I can’t speak for Cady.”

  My smile fell. “But … but Rick’s fine! He had a good time. It was a fantastic night and…”

  “I’m sure it was memorable,” Gracie said shortly, putting on her coat. “But I think she’s just the tiniest bit ticked off that her fiancé was nearly eaten by a lion.”

  “Oh,” I conceded, my shoulders slumping.

  “Yes, oh.” And she linked her arm through mine. “Come on, Vincent, time to go home.”

  I really liked the sound of that.

  “What, you and me?”

  Her gaze frosted over. “I just saved you from being arrested again. Don’t push your luck.”

  I gave her my winning smile: Message received and understood.

  For now.

  Grace

  The aftermath of Rick’s bachelor party was not pleasant. Cady, usually so even-tempered and with a God-given gift of laughing things off was furious and tearful, spending half-an-hour reaming them both out until the guys looked completely whipped.

  I had a theory about why that might be, but now was not the time.

  Finally, to draw a line under the evening and bring an end to the emotional beatdown, I ordered an Uber for Rick and Cady, pushed them inside and promised my best girl that we’d talk soon.

  It was certainly a lot more peaceful after she’d gone. Vince seemed slightly stunned by the tirade that had lashed down on him from the moment he and Rick had walked through the front door and been met by Hurricane Cady.

  “Fook me,” he said quietly, as the dogs crept warily into the living room now that the shouting had stopped. “I think I’ve upset her.” He looked up at me sadly. “I always fook things up, don’t I?”

  I lifted my eyes to the ceiling. “You do have a talent for getting into the craziest situations,” I agreed, “but no, you don’t always mess up.”

  He dropped his head into his hands. “Just most of the time.”

  He looked so sad, and it probably would have been a huge mistake if I’d tried to comfort him, but Tap got there first, nuzzling against him and laying her head on his knee.

  “You still love me, don’t you?” he said with a soft smile, stroking her gently.

  I watched him, sitting there quietly with his dogs around him, so different from the walking, talking, shagging disaster that was the Vincent Azzo I’d first met more than a year ago. I knew that version was still there, but now I also knew that there was a kind heart behind all the mouth and muscle.

  “Vince,” I said, waiting until he looked up. “Sometimes you do real good.”

  He blinked, as if he was waiting for a qualifying statement, but when he realized that it was a real compliment, he gave me the most beautiful smile.

  “Thank you, Gracie. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  “Well, so long as I don’t get eaten by a lion, I can keep Cady from beating you to death with her phone and you won’t have to find out.”

  He gave a light laugh. “Promise?”

  “Promise.”

  He cleared his throat. “I don’t want to come over as a knob or say anything naff, but do you want to stay here tonight? I don’t mean with me—I’ll take the sofa—but it’s really late and … and me and the kids want to take you out to our favorite place for coffee and cake in the morning. No funny business, Scout’s Honor.”

  I thought about another long cab ride across the city to an empty apartment and I had to admit that his offer did sound pretty good. I’d taken several vacation days from work for wedding week, so I had nowhere particular to be until the rehearsal dinner tomorrow evening.

  “I don’t have a toothbrush.”

  “You can use mine.”

  I
wrinkled my nose. “Um, no!”

  He laughed. “I’ve got a new one you can have.”

  “Thank you. Much better. And, uh, do you have a t-shirt or shirt I could sleep in?”

  Something hot flashed in his eyes, but then he just nodded.

  “Follow me,” he said, heading for his bedroom.

  He handed me a t-shirt with a Canine Crusader logo, and a pair of his briefs with purple paw prints on the fabric.

  “For the morning,” he grinned. “They’re fairly clean. Only wore them for a week.”

  “Don’t be gross,” I said, slapping his arm as he laughed.

  His smile faded. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Gracie, but could you leave the bedroom door open tonight?”

  “Excuse me!” I yelped, wondering if I’d made a huge mistake and glad I had my Uber app primed and ready to go.

  “No, no, not like I’m a creepy pervert, but you’ve got the dog beds in there and they’ll know I’m next door so it would probably be easier if they could come and check on me—just to reassure them.”

  I relaxed.

  “You can come and check on me, too, if you like,” he said suggestively, raising one eyebrow.

  “Don’t push it, buddy! Three cold, wet noses is enough—yours just doesn’t make the cut.”

  “Harsh,” he said sadly, shaking his head. “Okay, well I’ll just take them out for a slash then I’ll tuck them in.”

  “Do you read them bedtime stories, too?” I couldn’t help asking.

  “Yep, their favorite is 101 Dalmatians; Tap likes Old Yeller, but it always makes me cry.”

  “Get outta here,” I laughed, tossing a pillow at his head that he caught easily.

  Fascinating factoid: Lassie is still the most famous fictional dog in history.

  I changed into Vince’s t-shirt in the bathroom and brushed my teeth with the new brush he’d left out for me. I didn’t have to worry about cleanser, toner, moisturizer, body lotion or anything else like that because Vince had more products than I did—probably a habit he’d acquired in his modeling days—and all top brands for men. Nothing icky left by an ex.

  I scooted into bed, feeling the cool sheets against my skin as I caught Vince’s cologne faintly on the pillows.

  When he came back into the bedroom, the dogs were following him like the Pied Piper.

  He gave a huge smile when he saw me. “You look great in my bed,” he said. “Sure you can’t be persuaded to let me join you?”

  “Quite sure,” I said primly. “We’re not married.”

  His face was a picture as a shocked range of emotions charged across, and then he relaxed when I laughed.

  “Blimey! You had me going there for a minute, Gracie. I saw me life flash before me eyes!” and he pretended to check his heartrate.

  “Hmm, dodged a bullet there,” I teased. “But it’s a good thing my dad doesn’t know I’m here in your bed or he’d hunt you down, him being from Minnesota and all.”

  “I hope you’re pulling my leg,” he said, “because if your dad is anything like you, he’d be well scary.”

  “If you hear someone banging down your door at dawn, and he’s wearing camos and carrying a deer rifle, better run for the back door,” I said with a yawn.

  Still smiling, Vince shook his head then tucked the dogs into bed, with a kiss and a quiet word for each of them as he pulled their little dog blankets over them, carefully tucking in the corners.

  “All done,” he said. “Now be good for Mummy Gracie—Daddy Vin is right next door.” Then he stood up and stretched his back, looking at me longingly. “Night, Gracie. Sleep well.”

  “Night, Vince.”

  Sighing, he left the room, leaving the door ajar in case the dogs wanted to go walkabout.

  I could hear him in the living room making up a bed on the sofa, the creaks of the furniture as he got himself comfortable, and then silence.

  I listened for a few minutes but all I could hear were the dogs snuffling, Tyson already letting out rumbling snores. Not long after that, I drifted asleep with a smile on my face.

  I woke with a warm, wet tongue in my ear.

  “Gerroff, Vincent!” I mumbled, but when I cracked an eye, it was Tyson looking up at me with a sloppy smile. “Oh, my mistake,” I yawned. “What time is it?”

  “Time for coffee!” a voice yelled from the kitchen.

  Ooh, what a good idea. I shuffled to the bathroom, splashed some water on my face then groaned when I glanced in the mirror, grumbled a bit, ran Vince’s brush through my hair, then borrowed his enormous fluffy robe that reached to my ankles.

  I trudged into the kitchen, still only half awake but with the happy knowledge that I didn’t have to work today. And then I saw Vince. His feet were bare, his chest was bare, and only his long legs were covered in a pair of ill-fitting jeans, at least four inches too short.

  As my eyes traveled greedily across the colorful tattoo on his upper right arm, the line of black ink peeking out of his waistband, the ridges and valleys of his abdominal muscles, and his firm pecs, my face grew hot. At 6’4” that was a lot of half-naked man making me coffee, and now I was wide awake.

  “Hot?” he asked.

  “Excuse me!” I squeaked.

  He turned and grinned. “Do you like your coffee hot or with a drop of cold water?”

  “Oh. Ah, hot, please.”

  He winked. “Some like it hot—coming right up.”

  I climbed onto the high stool at his breakfast bar and swung my feet, feeling light and carefree while Vince puttered around the kitchen.

  “Nice jeans,” I commented sarcastically, sipping my piping hot brew.

  Vince pulled a face. “Best I could buy after I lost my trousers last night.”

  I spluttered, dribbling coffee down my chin. “You lost your pants last night? Seriously? How on earth did that happen? Or maybe I shouldn’t ask.”

  “Well, me and Rick were on stage doing our strip show and…”

  I choked again. “What?! You did what? Oh, God, you had Rick stripping on stage?”

  Vince leaned forward confidentially. “Don’t tell Cady, but he wasn’t very good.”

  I laughed suddenly, snorting coffee, and coughed so hard I nearly lost a lung. The dogs were barking and Vince thumped me on the back with too much strength, making me face-plant on the breakfast bar. Tears were streaming down my face and I rubbed my sore nose.

  “Oh, fookin’ hell! I’m really sorry!” Vince yelped, trying to dry my face with a dish towel as if I was a five year-old.

  “Stop! Stop! Don’t help me anymore!” I wheezed, then sat hiccupping, wiping my eyes, blowing my nose and still half-giggling.

  When my bodily functions were finally under control again, I glanced up at Vince who still looked worried.

  “Tell me you got photos,” I gasped.

  He relaxed slightly and perched on the stool opposite me, the perfect height for him, unlike us more normal-sized humans.

  “No, but one of the women in the audience put a video on YouTube,” he grinned. “But it’s too grainy to tell who we are, otherwise I’d put it on me Fans Only page.”

  I shook my head, still smiling. “As your lawyer, let me give you this piece of valuable advice: never tell Rick that there’s a video.”

  He laughed out loud but I could tell by the gleam in his eye that he wasn’t taking my advice seriously.

  I pointed my finger at him. “Let me add an addendum to that free piece of advice—never tell Rick, never tell anyone, or Cady will have your balls for breakfast.”

  His smile fell so quickly I heard it hit the floor.

  “Yeah, good point,” he admitted. “Do you think she’ll forgive me for fookin’ up?”

  I patted his arm. “Cady doesn’t hold grudges—she’s just a little emotional right now. It’ll be fine.”

  He nodded absentmindedly, looking down at my hand on his arm.

  “Can I have a hug?”

  Surprised, it took me a moment to respo
nd, then I stood up and walked around the breakfast bar, reaching up to put my hands around his neck, feeling the heat of his bare chest through my robe. He immediately wrapped his arms around my waist, hugging me tightly and leaning his head against my shoulder, his breath warm on my cheek.

  “This is nice,” he mumbled.

  And it was. It was friendship and caring and something more.

  Then the dogs decided that they wanted to be hugged, too, and trotted over to join in, Zeus at our ankles, Tap at our knees, and Tyson shoving his nose into our crotches.

  Laughing, we pulled apart and Vince grinned at me.

  “Can I have a shag now?”

  I rolled my eyes. “No.”

  Vince

  “Can’t blame a bloke for asking,” I said with a wink. “It worked for the hug.”

  “You’re incorrigible!” Gracie huffed, pushing me away, but she was still smiling.

  Being a gentleman, I let her use the shower first; and being a red-blooded male, I imagined the hot, soapy water sliding over her sweet little tits and naked body, and ended up with a stiffy the size of the Empire State Building.

  It was hard work doing the friend thing while she warmed up to the fact that we’d be awesome together. Getting her to trust me enough to spend the night had been a massive step, and it had given me hope when generally as a commodity it was in short supply. I should have won a medal for forcing myself to stay on the sofa all night when the woman of my dreams was a few feet away all soft and warm and tucked up in my bed.

  I was beginning to understand why Rick had been such a grumpy bastard last year while he was trying to persuade Cady that the course of true love never ran straight but sometimes ran marathons. They still seemed an unlikely couple to me, and after last night’s tongue-lashing, I hoped that Rick really knew what he was letting himself in for.

  The strange thing was, last night I’d been waiting for the other shoe to drop and for Gracie to take a turn at the verbal battering, but she hadn’t. She hadn’t reamed me out at the police station either. In fact, she’d been the one to stuff a sock in Cady’s gob and shove her in a taxi. Even then, I thought my turn would be coming and she’d start yelling at me, telling me that I was an irresponsible twat, but again she hadn’t. And then I thought she might give me that look of disappointment that I was so familiar with, but she’d just smiled and shook her head saying, “Only you, Vincent. Only you.” Which I took as a compliment.