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

by Stuart Reardon

  Cady interrupted the happy turmoil of my thoughts.

  “Is it a good sign that the jury are taking so long to deliberate?” she asked, anxiously eating a lemon-glazed donut that Rick had bought for her.

  Fascinating factoid: The longest U.S. jury deliberation took place in a 1992 California trial. The case had taken eleven years to get to trial, and the jury sat through six months of testimony. They then deliberated for four and a half months before reaching a verdict.

  “Yes, I think so. It suggests that they’re finding it difficult to reach an agreement, which means at least some of the jury are on Vince’s side. I hope.”

  I spoke quietly while Vince answered messages on his phone and put out new posts to his fans. I’d peeked outside the courthouse window and the crowd of his followers had increased. There was a greater police presence now, as well, and I could see at least half-a-dozen news crews, all waiting for the verdict. I wasn’t generally a nail-chewer, but now seemed like a good time to start.

  “So there’s hope?” Cady asked quietly.

  I smiled stiffly, my mouth arcing upwards with reluctance. “We’re talking about Vince, king of the comebacks. Yes, there’s always hope.”

  “You know we’ll do anything for that crazy dude, right?” Cady whispered urgently. “I mean anything: you name it, you got it. You’re my best friend, Grace, and what hurts you hurts me. I’d do anything to keep King Klutz out of jail. I’ll do anything for you. Rick and I, we’ll do anything for you and Vince.”

  “I know,” I said, feeling the warmth of her love and support. “I know you will. You’re an awesome best friend. Love you, Cady Callaghan. Or is it Cady Roberts now, you never said?”

  “Meh, I’ve been Cady Callaghan my whole life; it would feel weird to change my name now. But I gotta say, I did get a kick out of the hotel staff saying ‘Mrs. Roberts’ on our wedding day.”

  I smiled a little sadly. That wonderful day had ended with news of the trial. Why was good news always chased by bad?

  I was just about to have a wallow in self-pity when we were informed that the jury had reached a verdict.

  “Here we go,” I said, taking a deep breath and trying to look positive.

  The four of us had a group hug, then Vince gave me a long, sweet kiss, before we hurried back to the courtroom.

  Judge Herschel looked her usual severe self, and I wondered what she was thinking.

  “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, have you reached a decision?”

  “We have, your Honor,” said the foreman.

  The judge nodded slowly, then turned to Vince.

  “Will the defendant please rise.”

  Vince stood, his chin lifted, refusing to be beaten, even now. I stood next to him in silence.

  “On the charge of burglary, how does the jury find the defendant?”

  “Guilty, your Honor.”

  I heard Vince suck in a breath, while I stopped breathing altogether.

  “On the charge of larceny, how does the jury find the defendant?”

  “Not guilty, your Honor.”

  Not guilty! What did this mixed verdict mean for us?

  Judge Herschel turned to face Vince.

  “Vincent Alexander Azzo, you have been found guilty of burglary at the Barkalaureate Animal Shelter on the night of January 4th. This has been an unusual case with significant public interest. The court recognizes that you are passionate about animal welfare, but cannot condone breaking the law to support your beliefs. You have been found guilty by a jury of your peers. Ordinarily, there would be a pre-sentence report, however, after hearing testimony of the circumstances, it is the judgment of the court to move forward, and I therefore sentence you to eight weeks’ community service, to be served at Barkalaureate, and a fine of $100. Court is dismissed.”

  Vince let out a loud whoop and scooped me up into a hug before kissing me full on the lips while Cady and Rick, and Vince’s fans in the audience cheered loudly.

  Barclay looked astonished, then irritated, then gave me a wry smile and a salute for Vince. He really wasn’t a bad guy.

  Judge Herschel stood to leave the courtroom, but Vince yelled out.

  “Judge Hershey, will you marry us?”

  Time stopped as I stared at Vince. I wasn’t the only one staring; every man and woman in the courtroom had their eyes riveted on him.

  The judge pinned him with a long, searching look.

  “I’ll remind you for the last time that it’s Judge Herschel. And this is highly irregular, Mr Azzo.” Then she swung her piercing gaze to me. “Do you want to marry this … person, Counselor?”

  “Course she does!” Vince interrupted with a laugh.

  “I’m asking Ms. Cooper.”

  “She’ll say yes.”

  “Ms. Cooper, please restrain your client.”

  “I haven’t had much luck with that, your Honor,” I said honestly.

  Judge Herschel sighed. “You’re very annoying, Mr. Azzo.”

  “In a cute way, right, Judge?”

  “No, in an annoying way. Have you even asked your lawyer if she wishes to marry you? She seems like an intelligent woman so she might say no.”

  “Ah, good point,” said Vince, dropping to one knee and opening his arms. “Gracie, babe, wanna marry me? Let’s get hitched … the ole ball and chain. Let’s do it!”

  “Is this a joke?” I asked feebly, struggling to find enough air in my lungs to speak.

  “Ah come on,” he grinned, his blue eyes twinkling. “I know you do really. Give a man a break and lower your standards. You’re the love of me life. Marry me?”

  “Okay,” I said, as he walked forward on his knees and wrapped his arms around my hips, mushing his face into my stomach. “Stand up!” I hissed.

  “I’m going to kiss you now,” said Vince, squeezing my hips harder. “Fair warning, Gracie. After this, I’m never letting you go again. I’ll even make you a matching Canine Crusader costume—you’d look fookin’ hot in that!”

  I laughed out loud. “Sure, why not? If I’m crazy enough to marry you, I guess I’m crazy enough to have my own Canine Crusader costume.”

  Vince stood up and turned to Judge Herschel. “Will you marry us now, Judge?”

  “Very well, if that’s what you both want. If you’re sure, Counselor?” and she gave me a piercing look.

  “I’m sure,” I smiled, shaking my head at the bizarre turn of events.

  Judge Herschel sighed heavily. “Vincent Alexander Azzo, do you take this woman Grace…?”

  “Grace Beatrice Cooper,” I whispered.

  “Do you take this woman Grace Beatrice Cooper to be your lawful wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, so long as you both shall live?”

  “Is the goat kidding around?”

  “Say yes,” I hissed.

  “Yeah, yes! I do!” Vince said loudly.

  “And do you, Grace Beatrice Cooper, take this man Vincent Alexander Azzo to be your lawful wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, so long as you both shall live?”

  “I do!”

  “By the authority vested in me by the State of New York, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride. Again.”

  The courtroom exploded into cheers and applause, but all I could hear was the rushing of blood through my body as Vince kissed me and I kissed him, our mouths and bodies meeting and melding.

  “Ahem,” said Judge Herschel interrupting us, a smile on her normally severe face. “I do hope that I’ll be able to forgo the pleasure of having you in my courtroom again, Mr. Azzo.”

  “Yeah, you bet, Judge!” Vince grinned at her. “I have faith that Gracie will keep me out of trouble.”

  Judge Herschel shook her head as she turned and walked back to her chambers. “Even Our Lord Almighty hasn’t seen fit to perform that miracle.”

  As Vince stood at the top of the steps to the Supreme Court, he punched the air and gave his trademark wolf howl. I had to cover my
ears when a thousand people and dogs howled back at him.

  “Justice has been done!” he shouted, his voice carrying to the crowd as a tangle of microphones bristled in front of him. “The Canine Crusader is walking out as a free man … with a lifetime sentence to Gracie Cooper, me lawyer and now me wife!”

  Howls filled the air like, almost deafening us, and Vince pulled me to his side, gripping my hand tightly.

  “The fight goes on!” he yelled. “I’ll carry on, I’ll keep fighting for the rights of dogs, of all animals to have a home. Are you with me?”

  “YES!” the crowd yelled back.

  “Yee-ha!” Vince crowed. “I love America!”

  Then Rick hustled us into a taxi and from there, we dropped by Tiffany’s to buy our wedding rings, then stopped at the nearest bar to drink champagne with Cady and Rick, and then with more and more of Vince’s fans who’d tracked us down—which wasn’t hard, considering he was still wearing his gold Lycra costume and updating his Instagram every few minutes.

  We celebrated life and liberty and the pursuit of happiness. We celebrated our love and our crazy, impulsive decision to get married. My parents were going to kill me for getting married without them being there, but I’d make it up to them. Vince was going to love Minnesota. So would Tap, Tyson and Zeus.

  Our home would be full of life, full of love, and full of dogs.

  When we finally headed back to Brooklyn Heights—Vince’s home, my home, our home—we traveled in silence, an undercurrent of electricity sparking between us. We held hands and gazed out of the window, occasionally turning to look at each other and sharing secret smiles.

  We were both tired and emotional and not entirely sober. At Vince’s apartment, we entered as silently as possible, our quiet footsteps masked by Erik’s rumbling snores. He’d offered to dog sit and had spent the day with the kids.

  When we peeked into the living room, he was laying on the settee with Tyson sprawled across him, his heavy head resting on Erik’s chest. Tap was curled up in the armchair and raised her liquid eyes to ours, and I swear she smiled. Zeus had taken himself off to bed and was curled up on Vince’s pillow in the bedroom.

  I coughed discreetly but it took Vince holding Erik’s nose to wake him up.

  He sat up yawning as we pretended we’d just walked in.

  “Vincenzo! Miss Cooper! You home free! All happy people?”

  “Yes, very good, thank you,” I replied at the same time Vince said, “Fookin’ awesome. We got hitched, too!”

  Erik started to cry, slapping Vince on the back, and kissing my hand many times. All the dogs woke up and came charging in, demanding pats and strokes and furry kisses.

  “You will need more Milk-Bones,” Erik said sheepishly. “I buy them for you as wedding gift!”

  Vince just grinned and saw him out to the waiting cab.

  And then we were alone, with three furry family members, which was slightly unnerving as they watched us with interest.

  “Uh, I’m not sure about the audience,” I said as Vince approached me with a hot look in his eyes.

  He turned to glance at the dogs. “Right, you lot! Time for a piss then bed. And don’t ask for any more Milk-Bones because they’re all gone.”

  And he let them out to do their business while I sat on Vince’s bed feeling slightly more sober and a lot more nervous. It had been quite a while since I’d liked a guy enough to get to this stage.

  When Vince came back in, he quickly carried all the dog beds into the living room.

  “They’re too young to watch live porn,” he said with a grin.

  Then he peeled off his bodysuit and dropped his briefs faster than a hot potato. I scooted right across the bed and over the other side.

  “Wow! Um, that’s a lot to bite off!”

  Vince cringed and edged away with both hands covering his considerable manhood.

  “Gracie! You wouldn’t?!”

  “What? Oh! I didn’t mean it like that! Well, maybe just a little nibble.”

  “Don’t tease,” he whined, eyeing me warily.

  “I have no intent to wound,” I said, crossing myself and bringing a worried smile to Vince’s face. “Although accidents do happen.”

  And then I jumped into his arms, knocking him backwards onto the bed.

  “Mind the meat and veg, Mrs. Azzo,” he said, spinning me onto my back.

  Oh, my sweet man with his sweet words.

  “I have every intention of taking very good care of your meat and veg,” I smiled. “You’ve been found guilty of being completely adorable, Vincent Alexander Azzo, and it’s a lifelong sentence.”

  Vince

  Grace was pissed off. Not the way I’d wanted to start our four-week trip. It had been bad enough leaving the kids with Rick and Cady for a month, but now my wife of 72 hours was glaring at me. Although to be fair, that was nothing new…

  “Seriously, Vince? We have a film crew coming with us on our honeymoon?!”

  She folded her arms which pushed out her sweet little tits. I grinned to myself. I’d been up close and personal with those last night. And the night before. And the night before that, as well as at lunchtime, after breakfast, before- during- and after our morning shower, and again when … you get the picture.

  Right now, she was staring at me with an expression that said I’d never get laid again. Then I glanced down at the simple gold band on the fourth finger of my left hand. Yep, she’d gone and married me, so she’d have to relent eventually. Besides, she was hot for my studliness. Smart woman.

  “Yeah, well, it’s like this. I got offered a load of cash.”

  “And?” she said frostily.

  “And it means I can think about opening my own non-profit shelter when we get back. And it could be just the start! If the series is popular, the Canine Crusader could be going global!”

  She shook her head, a reluctant smile fighting to get out.

  “Fine, but the camera crew is not allowed in our hotel room.”

  “Um, yeah, no problem. Um, Gracie, we won’t be staying in a hotel.”

  I grinned at her, but her cool expression wasn’t encouraging.

  “Why not? Did you rent a house?”

  I shook my head.

  “An apartment?”

  “Nope.”

  “An RV?”

  “Not exactly…”

  “Vincent! Where the heck am I staying on my honeymoon?” Gracie yelped.

  “It’s more of a moneymoon,” I quipped, then moved on quickly when she didn’t smile back. “We’ll be camping while we’re on safari. In tents. Big tents. The best tents—with, um, zips … er … zippers and everything.”

  Gracie closed her eyes, then blinked a few times before her voice came out in a whisper.

  “Showers?

  “At the end of filming, yeah!”

  “But … but the film crew said they have a month-long shooting schedule?”

  “Yeah! Innit fab?!”

  “No showers for a month?” she said faintly, then smiled. “Bring it on.”

  “That’s me girl!”

  Grace

  We stood by the Chobe River in northern Botswana as the setting sun turned the water blood red, and the sky blazed orange and gold while we stared down at the herd of elephants, silent and awed as the massive animals sank their enormous feet into the dark, gluey mud of the riverbank.

  The producer nudged Vince, reminding him that he had a job to do.

  Vince walked over to our guide, Baruti, a gnarled old man with wiry white hair and a ready smile, dressed in his uniform of khaki shorts and shirt. He’d worked with the wild elephants in Botswana for over 40 years, and there was nothing he didn’t know about these magnificent creatures.

  He led Vince toward a female who was standing by herself, watching the two men and swishing her stubby tail.

  “This is Nkechi,” said Baruti. “Her name means ‘loyal’. Her mother was killed by poachers when she was just a month old. I helped to hand-rear
her until she was old enough to return to her herd. She is very friendly. She likes you. See? She is wagging her tail, just like a dog.”

  “That’s a bloody big dog,” Vince laughed. “Imagine cleaning up that shit!”

  “We’ll have to cut that bit,” the cameraman mumbled, but the producer disagreed.

  “TV gold,” he said.

  Vince and Baruti walked right up to the large female, and even after all this time and knowing he really was an animal whisperer, my nerves jangled as Vince ran his hand down the ridged skin of the four-ton animal.

  Vince stroked her a few more times, then turned to do his piece to camera.

  “Elephants love me, don’t you, baby,” he said to Nkechi, making me smile nervously. “I can talk to them. All animals understand me—we have a thing. How’s it going, beautiful? You ready for your close up?”

  I don’t know why I should have been surprised, but Vince’s TV show had been a huge hit as the weekly program was broadcast on the internet, and several hours of live footage streamed every week. Millions of people were watching Azzo in Africa—Walking and Talking with Elephants. He had more work offers and endorsements than he knew what to do with, and it quickly became clear that my idea of becoming an events planner would have to go on hold while I filled the role of his manager and sorted through the dozens of offers he was getting every day.

  My crazy goof of a husband was becoming one of the most popular wildlife presenters since Sir David Attenborough and only just behind Bindi Irwin. Who would have thought it? But that was Vince’s world, and he was great at it.

  My heart was filled with love as I watched him. Vince had taught me so much: he’d taught me to plan less and enjoy life more, to value the sheer joy of taking what life threw at us, together. He’d taught me to open my heart, and he’d taught me to hope. Most of all, he’d taught me to seek the sunshine, to look for the positives, even when life seemed dark and dreary. He’d taught me that being happy was a choice we had to make every day, finding the smallest thing to smile about.