Read Online The Accidental Life of Greg Millar by Aimee Alexander - Free Book Online

club. Grace and I are slow to part with our chips, expecting to lose. And that’s exactly what we do. Greg piles his chips high and barely looks as the wheel spins. And yet he wins. Consistently. He starts to give away chips – for luck.
    Grace and I retire to the bar.
    ‘Is Greg OK?’ she asks.
    ‘Yeah, fine. Why?’
    ‘Oh, nothing. I was just wondering – is he always so energetic?’
    I laugh. ‘Always.’
    ‘He never seems to stop, though. Does he?’
    ‘He’s just one of those people who’s always on the go.’
    ‘Must be exhausting.’
    I eye her. What’s she getting at?
    ‘Dad was shattered after playing golf with him.’
    ‘Wait! Did Dad talk to you about Greg?’ It feels like a deception, somehow.
    ‘He just mentioned the game, that’s all. Greg wanted to go for another eighteen holes.’
    ‘He was probably joking, Grace. He does have a sense of humour.’ I can’t believe they were talking about Greg behind my back. ‘Grace, are you trying to tell me something here?’
    ‘I’m just wondering why he’s so highly charged . . .’
    ‘Greg lives life. He experiences it. And d’you know why? Because he knows it could be snatched from him at any moment. Maybe if you’d lost someone you love you’d be “highly charged”. Greg’s alive, Grace. And he’s making the most of it.’
    She bites her lip. ‘Sorry.’
    ‘Forget it.’
    ‘No. You’re right. More of us should live like that.’
    I’m sorry, then, for snapping. ‘The boys are young. And Kevin’s snowed under. Start-ups are always like that. Remember when Fint and I set up Get Smart? I don’t think anybody saw us from one end of the day to the next – unless, of course, they were working for us. It’ll get better, Grace.’
    ‘Might help if he’d a sense of humour.’
    ‘Who? Kevin?’
    ‘Who else?’
    Where has this come from? OK, he was a bit annoying in the restaurant, but I’ve never heard Grace complain about Kev in – ever.
    ‘He’s so serious,’ she continues, moving her swizzle stick around the glass. ‘He . . . never . . . laughs.’
    ‘He was laughing tonight.’
    She gives me a look that cuts right through me. ‘That wasn’t laughter. That was him trying to be the alpha male. He was competing with Greg; didn’t you see that?’
    ‘I thought he was just in good form.’ And, OK, a bit of an idiot.
    She shakes her head sadly. ‘Competing.’
    ‘Men do that, though, right?’
    ‘ Some men.’
    ‘Kevin has other qualities,’ I say optimistically.
    ‘Name one.’
    Jesus. This is the guy who looks down his nose at me. ‘He works hard?’ I try.
    She scoffs.
    Then it hits me. ‘He’s stressed! You know when your mind’s on something – like, say, your new business – you probably try too hard to be social because you’re not feeling social at all!’ I’m a psychological wizard.
    She shrugs miserably.
    ‘Grace! This is Kevin we’re talking about. You’re crazy about Kevin. You’re the perfect couple.’
    Her ‘Yeah’ sounds tired. She reaches for her bag and stands. ‘Come on. Let’s go.’
    We find Greg behind a skyline of chips, looking perky and adorable.
    ‘Hey, Greg, let’s go,’ I say.
    He looks up as though lost in the world of risk. ‘Oh, hey! You out of chips? Here, have some of mine.’
    ‘No. Let’s actually go.’
    ‘OK, sure.’ He stands immediately.
    ‘Sir, your win!’ says the croupier.
    ‘Oh, OK, great. Thanks.’
    I shake my head in disbelief as more chips are pushed his way.
    Greg collects our coats and holds them up for us as we put them on. ‘How about a club?’
    Grace looks at me. ‘You go. I’ll catch a cab.’
    ‘Absolutely not,’ Greg says. ‘We’ll all go.’
    We flag down a taxi and drop Grace home. Then it’s back into town to a club. Because we could all be dead tomorrow.
     

10.
    G reg, Hilary and the children go ahead to France while I finish up a job at the office. A week later, Greg collects me at Nice Airport. Looking tanned and