you’ve asked two professionals to do hair and makeup, right? Well, my spreadsheet shows that even if they only spend 20 minutes per model—which is half what’s usually allowed—you’ll either have to get everyone in two hours earlier or you need two more hair and makeup artists.”
She hovered with her phone in her hand, waiting for me to make a decision while I sat like a muppet staring at her.
Then she waved her hand in front of my face. “The lights are on but there’s nobody home. Vincent! Decision, please. Do you have two more makeup artists you can call?”
“You’re so fookin’ hot when you’re all serious.”
She rolled her eyes. “Do you have low blood sugar? Focus!”
“That’s a great idea,” I said, leaping to my feet and waking up the kids. “We all need a break and I’m hungry as fook. Let’s all go and get something to eat.”
She immediately shook her head. “I don’t have time. You go. I need to work on the timings.”
I grabbed her hand and she looked up at me, puzzled and irritated.
“Gracie, take a fookin’ break. We’ve been at this for nearly three hours. I need a walk, the dogs need a walk, and you need…” a shag “something other than coffee.”
She huffed and pulled her hand free. “Three hours planning is nothing! I’ve been in meetings that have gone on for nine hours.”
“Where? In Hell?”
Her eyebrows snapped together in a familiar scowl. “Look, I’m giving up my Saturday to make sure that your event is perfect!”
“Yeah, you are and I’m right grateful, but you need to take a break, woman! Come on, Tap will be worried about you if you don’t come with us.”
Gracie glanced down at Tap whose anxious eyes were flitting between us.
“That’s blackmail.”
“Yeah, did it work?”
“Fine,” she huffed. “Just don’t blame me when mistakes happen because we weren’t ready in time.”
“I wouldn’t do that, Gracie,” I said seriously. “You’ve sweated your balls off for me and I won’t forget it.”
Finally, she smiled.
“You say the sweetest things.”
“Yeah, fookin’ smooth, me.”
Outside, the sky was slate gray and heavy with the prospect of more snow. Grace pulled on a coat that looked like a duvet and had me thinking an array of dirty bedtime thoughts. Meh, watching her brush her teeth was a fookin’ turn on. Spending time with her left my balls bluer than a blueberry cobbler, without the cobblers—whatever they were.
I put coats on Tap and Zeus but didn’t bother for Tyson because he never felt the cold. Then we all traipsed outside and walked briskly toward the dog park.
Tyson immediately found his Jack Russell friend and knocked him over in a friendly greeting. The little fella shook himself then raced Tyson, lapping him a few times, beating him on the curves as they chased each other happily.
I couldn’t help smiling—there wasn’t much wrong with the world when two happy dogs playing together put a smile on your face.
“Have you always had a dog?” Grace asked as I handed her a steaming hot chocolate and plate-sized chocolate chip cookie.
“Not always. But I nagged me mum and dad for a puppy pretty much from the time I could talk.”
“Good Heavens, you mean there was a time you couldn’t talk? What bliss!” Grace teased.
“I know. I’m eloquent as fook,” I grinned at her. “Anyway, they said I was too young to understand the responsibility and I’d get tired of looking after a dog. Finally, when I was ten, they gave in and that’s when Gnasher came to live with us. He was a Bull Terrier crossed with a Staffie and ugly as fook, but I thought he was better than margarine on white sliced bread. He came with me on my paper round before school. When he was little, he sat in the saddlebags, and when he was older, he ran next to me. Never needed a lead or nothing. I gave up playing football after school so I could come home and play with him. He was the best thing in my life.”
I swallowed and looked down.
“I loved that mutt.”
Gracie was watching me, her brown eyes soft as she fed pieces of her cookie to Tap and Zeus.
“What happened to him?”
“Me dad got sick. Lung cancer. Took him three years to die. Gnasher was what stopped me from losing it. All those trips to hospital, all the times we thought he’d got it beat, all the times we knew it had come back, and at the end, Gnasher was the only one