The World According to Vince - Jane Harvey-Berrick Page 0,25
to find it.
“It’s ice-white! It’s the same color as the sodding serviettes! That fooker cost me a grand! Can you see it?”
“That’s an adorable gap-toothed smile you’ve got, stud,” she laughed. “Like an eight year-old … a 6’4”, 190 pound, eight year-old.”
Still giggling, she helped me search through the wreck of the table until I found my tooth glinting at me next to one of the candle lanterns.
“Phew! Found it! I need to glue that bugger back in. Can’t have the Canine Crusader without his fangs.”
I screwed it back into my mouth, making a mental note to glue it later. Gracie watched me with soft eyes and an amused smile. She was cute when she was drunk and I think she liked me a bit more. Unfortunately, once I’d fed her and she started to sober up, I could see her slipping back behind the hard shell of her professionalism.
So I let her talk about the next press release, the fashion show and my upcoming court case—those were her safe places.
“And we’ve got a wedding to go to,” I reminded her. “I’m looking forward to stepping out with the maid of honor.”
“A life-defining moment, I’m sure,” she said coolly.
“Counting on it,” I grinned, watching as she rolled her eyes.
She muttered something I didn’t hear then glanced at her wristwatch.
“I need to get home. I’ve got to get an early start in the morning,” and she raised an accusing eyebrow at me.
“On a Saturday?”
“Press releases to send, fashion contracts to review, and someone’s court case to prepare.”
“Me and the dogs thank you,” I said with a wink.
Back at her apartment, she raced into her bedroom and stripped off the jump-suit. I wish I could say we had wild monkey sex in her bed, but she came out wearing a floor-length silky robe thing, and handed me back Stella’s outfit.
“Please tell her I said thank you,” she said primly, tugging the edges of the robe closer to her throat. “I felt very special wearing that.”
“You’re always special to me,” I said.
“Very smooth, Vince,” she laughed. “Thank you for dinner, it was delicious. Now goodnight!”
I left with a smile on my face and hope in my heart. A couple more evenings like that, and I was sure I could persuade Gracie to lower her standards. That woman was mine—she just wouldn’t admit it yet.
I took the subway home, getting off at Borough Hall. The slushy pavements had frozen into slippery mounds, and I relived my youth by taking a run at them and sliding along. I’d come a long way from a Council house in Derby, but that scrawny little kid was still inside me.
The lights were on in my apartment when I got back. I slid my phone out of my pocket, hoping I’d be able to catch a picture of Rick and Cady getting it on.
Instead, I got a photo of her snoring on Rick’s chest while he watched an American football game on my TV.
“Blimey! You’re not even married yet and you’re falling asleep in front of the telly!” I yelped.
Cady grunted and sat up. “I was awake at 4.30am this morning for work, turd face,” she said grumpily.
Rick grinned. “What she said.”
The kids heard my voice and came rushing in from the bedroom. From the loud thumps as they jumped off my bed, they’d obviously decided that was more comfortable than their own dog beds.
Tyson stuck his nose in my crotch, the little sod, and Zeus yipped and barked, complaining that I’d been out again. Tap whined and tried to climb my leg, so I scooped her up with Zeus and plopped down on the sofa between Rick and Cady, dodging an elbow to my ribs as I separated the lovebirds.
“Home by yourself?” Rick asked slyly.
Cady threw a cushion at him. “Is Grace still talking to you?”
“Yep! I’ve made some progress there. She still thinks I’m a knob-head, but a loveable one.”
“Yay for you,” Cady yawned. “We’re going home. I’m glad it went well, big guy, but I still say you’re punching above your weight.”
Grace
“So, how did your date with Vince go?”
Monday lunch with Cady was a new tradition. We used to spend Sundays together when we could, but what with her being all loved up, it had become a short and sweet catch up on Monday lunchtime instead, plus dinner once every couple of weeks if I wasn’t canceling on her due to working late again.
“It wasn’t a date,” I grumbled. “It was … a business exchange.”