Vince the Moderate Merry Man Part 7
By Alfonsina
Lula and I headed for Costco. Because I usually live alone, there's no reason for me to have a membership. Lula has one, mostly it's so she can buy condoms at a discount. Just how many condoms did she and Tank go through anyway? Never mind, some things are left best to the imagination.
We wandered the whole store because you never know what food samples they're going to have. Today we struck out, there were no samples of anything, just coupons for a brand of soap I don't use. Then again, if we came on Friday we might hit the jackpot.
Running into Vince at the office wasn't helping my little problem of being overheated. If anything, you could probably melt ice from my body-heat at five paces. I couldn't remember the last time I was this hot without being under a doctor's care.
I counted myself lucky that there is a walk in fridge at Costco. It gave me a couple of minutes to cool my heels while I closely examined the cucumber selection. Actually I'm glad that Costco only sells produce in the big bulk bags. I didn't want to get caught fondling any one carrot stick or cucumber; I might drool and that would cause other problems for me.
I considered buying some new panties because he'd about ruined the ones I had on, but the only ones available at Costco are 'passion killers'. We weren't doing anything, but I didn't want to ruin the passion, just in case. A girl can never be too sure.
Lula and I each had the 1.50 hotdog and soda combo for lunch. You can't beat the cheap lunches available in most Costcos. Nothing wrong with cheap, fast and easy when it comes to food, just don't let my mother know I think that. Then again, I've heard you are what you eat and I didn't want to think of myself as being 'cheap, fast and easy' either.
I had just slathered my dog with mustard and was considering the raw onions when Lula broke into my thoughts.
"You normally have pizza when we're here," Lula said. "Got sausage on your mind? Maybe an oral fixation? Do we need to cruise the produce aisle again?"
I hadn't been thinking about the smolder in my nether regions for a whole five minutes and she has to remind me. Ducky, just ducky. I had been zoning a little anyway and hadn't realized I was stroking my straw. Lula was noticing everything lately, I hoped she hadn't noticed the straw. I needed a cold shower and soon.
Just because earlier I was obsessing over one particular package of English cucumbers meant absolutely nothing. The fact that I didn't want to leave the bratwurst section was probably just a coincidence because I don't like brats. My need for a doughnut was unparalleled at this point, one that is full of a delectable crème filling … oh never mind.
"So what are you two going to do with Binky?" she asked saving me from my own thoughts.
"Not a clue in the world. Could be board games for all I know. Could be a take down strategy or something new at the range." You never knew with Ranger's guys. More likely it was a game of strip poker or 'duck and cover'. I hated the duck and cover type games, they usually involved paintballs and a need to do more laundry.
After lunch Lula dropped me back at the office and I sat in my car reviewing Jerry Capaldi's file. I was only on the second page when I became aware of how much stroking I was doing of my pen. I dropped it like it was a snake and about to bite me.
I was having an exceptional time getting a grip on my hormones and it was getting worse over the course of the day. Things got worse for me when I watched a long train go into a tunnel. It took forever; there were over 200 cars on that particular train going in deeper, and deeper and deeper. Oh God, I really should have bought the granny panties.
xx
I got a voicemail from Tank that I needed to sign a bunch of forms to update my personnel file and that the sooner I signed them the happier everyone would be. Tank took the role of office manager a little too seriously some days.
It was early enough to sign the forms before I needed to head out and meet Vince.
I headed into Tank's office.
"What do you need me to sign?" I asked.
"Just the usual, tax forms, insurance paperwork; nothing exciting. It isn't like you haven't signed it all before, Steph."
I went to Tank's desk and signed about fifteen different sheets of paper. Mr. Organized had put little flags everywhere I needed to sign so I didn't bother to look at anything first.
"Anything else?" I asked.
"Not at the moment. Let Vince know he'll need to do the same thing when he comes in tomorrow."
"Sure thing, Tank. See you later."
Why didn't he just call Vince himself?
xx
I located Capaldi's regular haunts. It dawned on me that on Wednesday afternoons he usually played chess in the park. It was even the site of his arrest; he'd been drinking and taunting his opponent by singing at him. Capaldi had been playing fast and loose with the rules and didn't take kindly to having it pointed out to him, hence the arrest. He'd made threats and brandished his weapon, but that possible charge was later dropped.
I checked my purse to make sure I had my .38, I didn't. I checked to see if I had my stun gun; I did, but it wasn't charged. I checked on my cuffs, those I had. I also did have the file and the papers needed for the cop shop.
I found my phone and called Vince, it was a little early, but I'd have a chance to walk around the park and stretch my legs a little bit. I walked around the duck pond - sans ducks, the picnic area - sans picnickers, playground equipment – sans kids.
Vince was still fifteen minutes away and I could see the skip from the swingset. I couldn't remember the last time I'd had a good swing, so I did. The city or whoever had messed with the chains so I couldn't get high enough to jump off the swing. It wasn't worth it; too low. Jumping from swings was one of my favorite things as a kid; I'd pump my legs hard, swing as high as I could and then I could fly. I still have the scars on my knees to prove it. Eight was a great age.
It was easy to spot Vince when he got to the park. I think he was looking for me near all the benches and trees.
My phone rang and I heard, "Where are you? I thought you were at the park?"
"Can you see the playground equipment from where you are?"
"Yeah."
"See the nut waiving in your direction?"
"Very cute, but we need to bring this guy in."
"Don't you wanna push me so I can go higher? I can't do it as well all by myself, please?" I was baiting and I knew it, but I couldn't control myself. I hadn't had wholesome, clean cut fun in a long time.
"Work first, I'll push you around later," he said as he snapped his phone closed. Sounded like he didn't want to play with me, damn man. Or maybe he did?
I got off the swing and made my way to where Vince was impatiently waiting.
"Ready to do this?" he asked.
"Sure, if you are."
"Let's see your weapon," he said holding out his hand.
He already knew I didn't have it. I shrugged at him.
"Stun gun?"
"Battery's dead."
"You didn't plan this very well, did you?"
"Usually they aren't violent. Usually, I can get them to come in just fine. Usually …"
"Usually you aren't working with me," he said with a sigh.
He bent over and pulled a .357 snubby out of his ankle holster, checked that it was loaded and passed it to me.
"I need to help you with your preparedness techniques," he said.
"Are you a good teacher?"
I shouldn't have said that because he growled.
"Have you at least identified your target?"
That I had done, I had seen Capaldi not twenty minutes before sitting at a little table.
"Well he was right here when I went to go play," I said.
I'd never lost a skip because my inner child took over. I usually lost them because there was a struggle, not because I wanted to be eight years old again.
He looked like he wanted to say something that would have become a lecture, but didn't because in the distance we could both hear singing.
"O sole mio
sta 'nfronte a te!
O sole
O sole mio"
"There can only be one person singing that," I said. I'm part Italian; I can recognize the standards if I have to.
The man was staggering out of the men's room with a brown paperbag. The singing got louder. Definitely it was my skip.
Fortunately for me Vince has good reflexes. Unfortunately for me I got in the way of the skip. Capaldi was in the middle of his big finale when he accidentally backhanded me and I fell. The fall wouldn't have been so bad, but the men's room was at the top of a little rise. If you followed the rise down, you wound up in the duck pond; which I did.
Vince had the man on the ground and cuffed before I emerged from the water. It was not a moment when I even remotely resembled Halley Berry coming out of the water in a James Bond movie. I looked like a drowned rat in a pair of jeans, sneakers and a flannel shirt. To look at me now you couldn't tell that my panties were ruined; all of me was. At least I'd dropped my purse on the ground and it hadn't gotten soaked. Thank God for small favors.
I walked with Vince and the sip back to the SUV. I was making very unladylike sloshing noises and feeling uncomfortable. I'd been uncomfortable all day, this was just a different kind. Now I knew I should've bought those damned high waisted cotton nightmares. Damn it.
Vince shackled his charge into the back seat and then went to the back of the rig.
"Let's at least get the pond water off of you," he said as he removed a hose and a large black garbage bag from his emergency kit.
"I've got spare clothes but I don't have an extra towel."
He dug a little further and was able to produce something a little larger than a tea towel, but it was better than nothing.
"I've got a blanket, do you want that, too?" he asked.
"Pass. I'll make this work, promise."
I knew I had clothes, I just had no idea what they looked like. I really hoped they were clean enough to drive home in.
He escorted me to my car while I checked my trunk. I actually had a packed emergency bag; how long it had been there was anyone's guess. The contents were minimal, one short denim skirt, one red tank top and one pair of black patent-leather FMPs. My purse had the requisite comb, hair brush, spray gel and makeup kit. All the while Capaldi was continuing to sing at full volume and shaking the vehicle at the same time.
We walked to the ladies' room and found a bib to screw the hose into. I put my put the dry stuff in the bathroom and I removed some of the outer wear so I would feel borderline clean when he got done soaking me all over again. I had no intention of letting my spare stuff get wet; I didn't know what kind of aim Vince had.
"Are you ready to do this thing?" I asked through the door. I didn't want to be exposed any longer than possible.
"Yep. Once you're out here, you're going to want to make a couple of pivots so all of you is rinsed. Ready when you are, sport."
I emerged from the bathroom minus my jeans, my flannel shirt, my shoes and my socks. I still had on my undies, long sleeved t-shirt and my bra.
The water that came out of the hose was even colder than what had been in the pond. After what felt like a lifetime, he turned off the water and handed me the towel.
We talked through the door for a little bit while I was trying to dry off. We decided that he would take Capaldi in and get the body receipt. I would meet him and Binky at Rossi's Tavern when I got cleaned up.
I used all the paper towels in the bathroom in addition to the tea towel to get the water out of my hair. I'd lost a wee bit of weight and the skirt was a little loose which meant I had no real problem getting it on over damp skin. The t-shirt was a different story; I virtually always wore it with a bra and I wasn't quite sure how shear it was. Hopefully neither Binky or Vince would notice.
The next time I pack an emergency bag, it's gonna have panties in it. Sensible panties, the kind that don't creep up my ass. What kind of panties did I have the pleasure of wearing? None. I don't mind braless, but commando isn't my thing; never has been. That package of Hanes Her Way white cotton, sensible panties was looking better and better the further I got away from them.
xx
I got to Rossi's about forty-five minutes later. I found Binky and Vince sitting at a big booth with a pitcher of beer and a bunch of appetizers between them.
"You cleaned up pretty well," Vince said as he kissed my temple.
"Heard you had an adventure today," Binky said with a smile.
"Just the usual."
Vince poured some beer into the spare glass and loaded a plate of appetizers for me. I didn't realize how much of an appetite a girl can develop from finding herself all wet and uncomfortable.
"So what are we talking about fellas?" I asked.
"Just the future. No big deal," Vince said putting his arm over my shoulders.
"He says it's not a big deal because I do all of the work," Binky snorted.
"Yeah, what kind of work?" I asked. The hand was now starting to massage a little knot at the back of my head.
"Glad you asked that. Let me give you my card," he said as he opened up his wallet and handed me a card.
Brian "Binky" Trask
CPA, CFP, Broker and Investment Counselor
"Binky used the ROTC to put himself through college," Vince said changing from a massage to a feather light touch. "He likes the action better than a desk job, but he keeps all of his licenses and credentials current."
"Someone has to look out for the future," Binky said.
"Anyway, Bonehead here handles all of my investments, retirement stuff and like that. He likes to think about the numbers and I just have to sign the paperwork."
"I never seem to have anything to invest," I said. "I seem to spend all my spare cash on shoes."
"Shoes are very important," Vince said into my ear. "I really like the ones you're wearing tonight. Are they special for me?"
"A girl can never have too many pairs of black pumps," I said. "They just happened to be in the car."
"Once every year or so, I go through Jackass's paperwork and update it for signatures and the like. I need a witness, are you a willing witness?" Binky asked.
"Sure."
So I watched Vince sign about twenty or so sheets of paper, then I signed a couple of things that Binky notarized.
"You are a notary, too?" I asked.
Binky reached back into his wallet and pulled out another card.
Brian "Binky" Trask
Notary
"Anything you don't do?" I asked.
Binky pulled out several more cards. One for a handy man service, another for a yard service, the next was for website development.
"Did you have ADHD as a kid?" I asked.
"Yep. I get bored easily. I like a little variety."
The guys got the waitress' attention and ordered two of the house special burgers; I asked for the same, hold the onion. Vince thought about it and had them hold his onions, too.
I leaned back into the booth and snuggled into Vince's body. I was finally getting warm and comfortable. I had allowed myself to be lulled into a false sense of security when I felt Vince's hand on my thigh.
"Vince," I said quietly. "Whatcha doing?"
"Nothing," he said quietly.
I ate a little more and realized the hand had crept up just a little further than before. I picked up his hand and moved it back down toward my knee. I gave a half hearted glare.
He was unfazed by my glare; I guess it doesn't work on blue eyed, blond men.
Binky excused himself for a couple of minutes. Vince wasted no time in closing the gap between us.
"I love how you kiss," he said. "Will you let me kiss you here?"
Here meaning on my neck just under my ear? Here meaning the booth?
"Wherever you want, for as long as you want," I said wishing he'd get on with it.
"Only if you are sure," he said. I nodded and he captured my mouth with his and his thumb was brushing up and down my breastbone. It was light but thorough and complete in its possession of my senses, the touch of his thumbs alone was enough to raise my internal temperature.
Binky came back and had to clear his throat a couple of times. "Are you ready for phase two?"
Vince nodded and I found myself agreeing just to keep the sensation going.
Oh boy.
