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

by Stuart Reardon

  All these things were positive signs. I just wish I knew what she was so worried about. Was it men in general or me in particular? Cady had been very close-mouthed about Gracie and only told me that she didn’t date much. Which told me sod all.

  I was hoping that a relaxed day with the dogs would get her to lower her standards a bit more and maybe consider dating me. After all, I was a catch. I was the Canine Crusader!

  I heard the shower turn off and she finished dressing in the bedroom. Me and my pet trouser-snake had a painful ten minute wait until she returned to the kitchen.

  “Clean in body and mind,” she smiled.

  “I can do one out of two,” I said hopefully.

  She glanced down at the truncheon in my pants and her eyes widened. For a second, I saw a flicker of interest. I swear I wasn’t imagining it, but then she looked away and reminded me that the shower was free.

  I walked away like John Wayne after a long ride through Death Valley. And if this sex drought kept up, that’s exactly where I’d be.

  Before the shower was even hot, I grabbed my knob and gave him some healing hands, reminding the poor sod that I really did still love him and promising that he wouldn’t drop off from lack of use.

  Three strokes and a quick tug and I was creating a shower of my own.

  I looked down breathlessly, feeling sorry for my dick who was hanging exhausted and limp.

  “Listen, mate. I wish I could promise you some action in the near future, but I’d be lying. I’m working on Gracie and believe me, she’s worth waiting for. You’ve just got to hang on in there and try not to get too eager. You’re not a heat-seeking missile—try and have a bit of fookin’ class. I’ll take care of you, buddy. And no more shit second-hand jeans that cut off your blood supply.”

  I finished washing lazily, had another quick wank to cheer up my depressed dick, and then dressed for the day ahead. By now it was time for morning coffee and cake, and my stomach was almost as hungry as my cock.

  I tried to be a bit careful with food around Gracie. Left to my own devices, I ate huge portions, but I knew that large plates filled with food were off-putting to someone who was still dealing with anorexia, so my tried and tested method was small amounts but lots of them.

  Gracie was smart, so she probably knew what I was doing, but it seemed to help. She’d scoffed more at breakfast than I’d ever seen her eat before. I figured that meant she was getting more relaxed around me. A score for the Canine Crusader! Sensitive to the needs of dogs and women.

  Yeah, probably not an award-winning marketing motto.

  By the time all five of us were dressed and ready to go, the sun had come out, reminding us what it looked like, a pale watery disc in the sky. I grabbed Gracie’s gloved hand and she threw me a surprised smile. When she didn’t let go, I felt happier than I had in decades.

  But ya know, if some soppy fooker had told me last year that holding hands with a girl was enough to make me this happy, I’d have told him to piss off and get a life. Funny how your values change when you meet a woman who stops you in your tracks and rewires your brain, and I had no doubt that Grace Cooper was the one for me.

  “Wotcha thinking about, Counselor?” I asked.

  “Happy non-thoughts,” she smiled. “I’m just glad not to be at work and…”

  “…the company is great,” I added for her in case she forgot.

  “Yes, I’m really enjoying being with the dogs,” she teased. “Oh, and you. You’re not so bad.”

  “Bloody hell, Gracie! You make me sound like the consolation prize at the lucky dip!”

  She laughed but didn’t disagree. Instead, I got a hand squeeze, and that launched my happiness like an Apollo space mission.

  “Why do you call me ‘Gracie’?” she asked, out of the blue.

  “Dunno, really. It suits you though. And no one else calls you that, do they?”

  She shook her head, her cheeks pink, then changed the subject.

  “So, now you’ve reached $500,000, what plans does the Canine Crusader have?” she asked.

  I grinned, very pleased with the awesome amount I’d raised.

  “Everything!” I said. “All that dosh going to shelters around the city. It’ll keep them in Milk-Bones for a while. They’ll even be able to refurbish the dog runs.”

  Tyson looked up in approval when I mentioned Milk-Bones—he was a complete slut for them—he’d do anything.

  “What about long term? Are you still thinking about setting up your own charity? You know I could draw up the papers for you if that’s the direction you want to go. Or maybe you’d prefer to be a fundraiser for other charities? That could work for you, too. And you’ve got the offer from Central Park Zoo to be their Patron.”

  I still hadn’t made any decisions—except one. “I definitely want to do another fashion show next year—that was brilliant fun!”

  “It really was,” she nodded enthusiastically. “I’ll help you.”

  Suddenly, I was so fookin’ happy, I had the very unfamiliar desire to cry.

  I sniffed loudly. “Yeah, cheers. That would be great.”

  Gracie smiled. “I think you prefer dogs to people.”

  “I’ve never been treated badly by dogs.”

  Clever Gracie didn’t miss anything. She didn’t call me on it, she didn’t tease me: instead, she stood on tip toe and planted a quick kiss on my cheek.

  We carried on walking and didn’t talk about anything important—it was the best day of my life.

  At the dog park, I dropped off Tyson at the play run, then found a table in the café where we could watch him racing laps and playing with the other dogs. Tap snuggled on Grace’s knee and Zeus snoozed in the pet sling, worn out by the walk. I’d noticed that the little fella was slowing down and wanting to walk less. A twinge of sorrow settled in my chest. He was already about seven or eight when I found him; all I knew was that he’d needed a new home and a second chance. He was nearing 14 now and I hated to think that his days were numbered.

  Shaking away the sadness, I smiled at the two beauties sitting across the table from me. Gracie was already studying the menu, a small frown on her face.

  “I always have the blueberry vegan muffin,” I said encouragingly.

  “Um, just a cappuccino for me, I think. After all, we’ve only just had breakfast and we’ve got the rehearsal dinner later.”

  “Oh yeah. What time do we have to be there?”

  “Four o’clock. Haven’t you looked at the schedule?”

  “Meh, loads of time.”

  She shook her head. “How can you go through life being so oblivious of deadlines? I know I can be a little OCD, but you, you’re just…”

  “A manly hunk of loving?”

  “I was going to say always last minute. I envy you in some ways.”

  I blinked at the unexpected comment and gave her a half smile. “I don’t like being stressed.”

  “But not being organized is stressful!” she argued.

  “I am organized,” I disagreed. “I just organize myself at the last minute.”

  She smiled uncertainly but was silent for several seconds. I took the opportunity to stuff half a muffin in my mouth.

  “I’m thinking of leaving my job,” she said quietly, side-eyeing me as if I’d tell her she should chain herself to her desk until she retired.

  “Great! When are you leaving? We’ll have a party.”

  “I haven’t decided definitely,” she said hesitantly.

  I leaned forward without squashing a snoozing Zeus, and took her hand.

  “You know your problem, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” she said snarkily. “You.”

  “Nah, I’m the best thing since sliced bread. Your problem is you: you never know when to piss or get off the pot.”

  She sucked in a shocked breath. “Excuse me?”

  “You know … make a decision.”

  She tugged her hand free and used it to stir her coffee. I don’t know why, she
hadn’t put any sugar in it.

  “You’re right,” she said simply without looking up. “It’s just, when I was a kid, I always felt like I was a day late and a dollar short. When I went to high school, I didn’t cope very well—so many kids who all seemed to know what they were doing and where they were supposed to be. Obviously most of them were faking it, I know that now, but I didn’t at the time. I forced myself to be more organized and that’s when my OCD kicked in and everything had to be done just so.” She gave a strained laugh. “I drove my parents crazy because everything had to be my way or I’d completely freak out.” She gave me a faint smile. “It might surprise you, but I’m not nearly so bad now. It did get bad when I left home for college and then I had to deal with my eating disorder, too. Therapy taught me that both conditions are all about needing to be in control, but that trying to be in control of life is not possible most of the time—all those curve balls, right? If it hadn’t been for Cady, I’m not sure I’d have made it. I want to leave Kryll Group, I know that, but I need to have my plan ready—it’s how I function, being in control as much as possible.”

  She’d opened up to me at last, and it explained a lot. I wanted to hold her and protect her and tell her she was fookin’ perfect as she was. So I did.

  I took her hand across the table and looked into her warm brown eyes. “I think you’re fookin’ perfect.”

  She gave a quiet laugh and tried to pull her hand free.

  “I mean it,” I said, still holding tight. “You’re kind and clever and hotter than two camels shagging in the desert.”

  She snorted into her cappuccino and even that seemed cute to me. She tugged her hand free and blew her nose, her cheeks a rosy pink. Gorgeous. Making her laugh was the best part of being the clown prince.

  “Anyway,” I said, “I get that you want to plan ahead ‘cause being out of work isn’t fun. What do you want to do?”

  “Well,” she said, almost shyly, “I thought I’d like to be an events planner … because I really loved working on the fashion show and I love being involved in that level of detail.”

  I beamed at her. “And you were fookin’ awesome at that. I know you’ll be amazing. I’ll write you a great reference.”

  She laughed. “Perfect! And can you sign with a paw print?”

  “Yeah, that can be arranged.”

  She smiled, leaning back in her chair and stroking Tap who gazed up at her adoringly.

  “So, what’s your story, Vince? Why did you give up the catwalk life? I know it’s not as glamorous as it seems after recent experience, but still … I looked you up. You were the face of some huge campaigns, I had no idea!”

  I shrugged lightly. “I burned out. I was traveling all the time, never in my apartment, a different city every week. It stopped being fun.” I looked at her seriously. “Life’s too short not to enjoy what you do for the day job, doncha think?”

  She sipped her coffee slowly before she replied.

  “In theory, yes. But we can’t all be superstar models and just decide to quit. Most people have college loans, credit cards, rent or mortgages to pay, families counting on us, responsibilities. Quitting isn’t that easy.”

  “Sometimes you’ve just got to walk away when things aren’t working if your health and sanity are paying the price.”

  Gracie eyed me carefully. “Are we still talking about jobs?”

  “Yes. Mostly.”

  “Relationships?”

  “Toxic ones, definitely.”

  I could have kicked myself for walking down this stinking back alley of memory lane.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” she asked quietly.

  No, I fookin’ didn’t. Not. Ever. But…

  I pulled a face. “Woman I was dating was a nutter, a complete psycho. She was a model, too, but wasn’t getting a lot of work. Basically, she was jealous and accused me of cheating on her. Which I didn’t, but I couldn’t take it anymore and moved out.”

  “You were living together?”

  “Sort of. She couldn’t make the rent on her apartment so she moved in with me. It was supposed to be short term but ended up being for over a year. I was a way a lot. Thank fook.”

  “Sounds pretty bad.”

  “Yeah, she could get violent, too.”

  Gracie’s eyes widened and then her eyebrows pinched together in a frown. “She hit you?”

  “Yeah,” I said quietly, the shame and humiliation as cutting today as it had been five years ago. “I know it sounds ridiculous, a big bloke like me, but she was vicious. I’d walk in the door and she’d throw a bottle at my head or a vase or a drawer of cutlery, then start slapping and kicking me. I never hit her back, not ever. I’m a trained kickboxer—if I’d hit back, well, I just wouldn’t. I couldn’t.”

  Grace looked shocked. Not a lot of people knew about Olivia. Rick was one of the few.

  “Did you report her?”

  “No, who would have believed me. She was half my size—weighed less than a hundred pounds. And I thought it was my fault because I was away so much and she hated being alone. But in the end I realized that was just an excuse to take out her anger on me. So I walked. But I promise you, I never laid a finger on her. Never.”

  Grace touched the back of my hand. “That’s because you’re a good person. I’m glad you managed to get away from a bad situation.”

  I nodded, half wishing I hadn’t brought it up, but found that I really wanted Gracie to know all about me.

  “Anyway, after Liv, I promised myself I’d never do serious again.” Gracie gave me the hairy eyeball. “Until I met you, obviously.” I cleared my throat. “What about you? Cady says you don’t date much but I don’t know why, ‘cause you’re a fookin’ knockout.”

  “Thank you, I think.” She looked out of the window, watching Tyson playing tag with another dog.

  “I dated a little in college but I was very self-conscious about my weight—or lack of it—so I never let anyone get close. When I went to law school, there just wasn’t any time. We had classes all day and studied all night—it was intense. I saw one guy for a while, but he became really competitive and not very nice when I beat him in tests, so that didn’t work out. And when I started working, first as an intern, then as a junior, it was expected that you put in 12 hour days or 14 hour days, and I’m still doing that. I have dated, but the men I’ve met didn’t like coming second to my job, and frankly, none of them were worth the compromise.”

  “Until now,” I suggested hopefully.

  She smiled without answering directly. “Cady says I’m a hopeless romantic because I’m picky, but I’d say that I’m a hopeful romantic.”

  “I’m a romantic, too. I’m dead sensitive, I know poetry.”

  “Really?” Gracie asked, her tone curious with a note of skepticism.

  “Yeah! Here’s one me gran taught me.

  My dearest, darling ducky,

  I loves thee clean and mucky.

  I loves to hold thee in my arms

  And squeeze thee just like putty.”

  Gracie laughed out loud. “Romantic poetry now has a whole new meaning for me!”

  I grinned proudly. I loved making her laugh.

  Grace

  The wedding rehearsal went smoothly, and Cady was wreathed in smiles and glowing with happiness. Rick was quieter but a pure joy curved his lips every time he looked at my best friend.

  I was introduced to his parents, who were quiet and reserved like him, and completely overwhelmed by Cady’s exuberant Jewish family. They were hugged and kissed and hugged again until they looked dazed.

  I took pity on them and found a quiet alcove where they could sit down and drink a glass of champagne in peace before the dinner started.

  Rick’s two friends from his rugby playing days had bonded immediately with Cady’s soldier brother, and the three of them were drinking shots before dinner, getting louder and louder. I thought that Vince would probably join them, but instead he was being unusually mature, and cha
rming Cady’s two grandmothers.

  Then he turned and nodded at me, said something to the grandmas who eyed me carefully, then he strode forwards carrying two more glasses of champagne.

  “Alright, Gracie?” he asked, his voice carrying over the hubbub.

  “Fine,” I smiled.

  “I saw you rescue Rick’s mum and dad. They look gob-smacked.”

  “Just a little. I think they’re like Rick—they prefer the quiet life. I’ll go chat with them in a minute.”

  He passed me the champagne and kissed my cheek. “You’re top totty, Gracie.”

  I shook my head at his choice of endearment, smiling despite myself. Vince was an acquired taste, and God help me, I’d definitely acquired it.

  We were interrupted by Cady’s mother, Rachel.

  “Hello, Grace honey, how are you?”

  “Good, thank you, Rachel. I think you’ve met Vincent Azzo, Rick’s best man.”

  “Only briefly,” she smiled. “It’s nice to meet you again, Vincent.”

  “And you, Rachel,” Vince said. “I can see where Cady gets her luscious looks from.”

  Rachel laughed. “Thank you very much! Cady has told me all about you, Vincent, or should I call you the Canine Crusader?”

  Vince leaned in and whispered to her. “Only when I’m wearing me superhero cape.”

  Rachel fluttered her eyelashes and glanced at me. “Oh, he’s got some slick lines, Grace honey. How long have you two been dating?”

  “It feels like our whole lives,” Vince said before I could spit out a denial.

  “We’re not dating!” I said, shocked, stepping away from him, stupid, annoying man.

  “She’ll fall for my charms eventually,” Vince grinned unrepentantly, winking at Rachel.

  “Only when the Earth stops spinning,” I muttered.

  “You two make such a cute couple,” laughed Rachel. “I’ll be expecting an invitation to your wedding next.” And she strolled off to visit with Rick’s parents.