Page 11 of Bona Fide

It’s still awkward with us. I can’t seem to forgive myself and chalk it up as a human mistake for dating Grant. But I was right when it came to Jed. He’s naive—still is—thinking that what I did was just because I was young and dumb.

I was fully aware of what I was doing and what pain it would cause him. I was a teenager that wanted revenge—plain and simple. Fucking your enemy’s brother, you can’t get any more petty and cunt-like than that.

There’s no way in hell that he doesn’t look at me right now and ponder about how much of an asshole I was. Because I remember vividly the way he looked like he was waiting for someone to put him out of his misery each and every time I was near.

And I saw him quite a bit.

“What can I do for you?” I ask, clasping my hands together on top of my desk and throwing my business hat on.

“I know we talked about it briefly, but I wanted to discuss it further because...well, there isn’t anyone else I know that can do it. And I trust you.”

Oh, you shouldn’t.

Jed is way too nice and sweet for this superficial world. He should’ve been born into an average family who just wanted their kids to have ordinary jobs like being a teacher or an accountant. His dad was a dickhead, his mom was a flighty housewife who enjoyed getting her nails done and reading gossip magazines, and Grant—no need to go there.

“I was hoping you’d consider planning my wedding.” My stomach flips uncomfortably as he stares at me expectedly.

Ugh, no.

“Um...I’m not sure I’ll be free for—”

“It’s February 7th, a Saturday. Belle wants certain flowers and a special cake flown in from Paris. She hates blue, and...she has a laundry list of things, I can’t keep up with them all.”

“So, we’re not going for a Beauty and the Beast theme?” Jed chuckles, but it’s a cheap shot.

I don’t like her.

Never met her, don’t care.

I already know she’s not good enough for him. If she’s a socialite—which it sounds like she is if she wants a dessert flown in from across the pond—it’ll be nothing but wanting and pleading for material things. His love won’t be enough, it won’t matter because it’s not considered or needed to gain social status. A husband is just a bank account while having to put out when they want it.

I know that Jed wants more than that.

He deserves more than that. And I’m tired of him always selling himself short. Still accepting the fact that his older brother, Grant, is the golden child of the family and does nothing to show that he’s just as smart and creative.

But he won’t.

After having it beat into him his whole life, Jed will forever be second best in his family’s eyes and just another topic of conversation about having two sons bred in the family.

“Still haven’t lost the sarcasm,” Jed quips with a shake of his head.

“And probably never will.”

“There’s more.”

I exhale heavily. “Isn’t there always with the women in your world?” He wrinkles his nose at me but quickly wipes it away.

C’mon, dude, you know much I despised rich bitches.

“She’ll need her bachelorette party planned,” he states softly. “And if you could do me a huge favor…”

“I haven’t agreed to the first one yet.” Jed hits me with a pleading look as he crosses one of his legs over the other.

“Grant, he’s supposed to—”

“No.” I hold up a hand. “I can’t.”

“Rea, he will royally screw up my bachelor party. I don’t want a bus full of strippers and lap dances.” He gives a weak lift of his shoulder. “I don’t know...maybe bowling or something?”

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