Page 35 of Fumbling for Perfection

“Excuse me.” I make sure my keys and phone are in my purse before leaving with him. “Cinderella and I don’t turn into pumpkins. We’re overworked, tired women who don’t have men who truly appreciate us.”

“I appreciate you.” He opens the passenger door to his Bentley and waits for me to buckle up before closing the door. When he slips behind the wheel, he picks up my hand and holds my engagement ring in the dim light of the car’s overhead light. “I four-point-two-carats-princess-cut-and-perfect-clarity appreciate you.”

“Still trying to buy my love.” And diamonds aren’t the way to do it. I don’t wear much jewelry, and, up until a few years ago, was a tomboy. But Kendall likes to dress me up and show off the rack I prefer to hide, so I’ve slowly gotten used to being a little more feminine.

“I’ll make this as comfortable for you as I can, Riles. You have no idea how much I appreciate everything you’re doing for me.”

I do, and I wouldn’t give up my life for anyone else. “It’s nothing compared to what you’ve done for me over the past ten years.”

We met when we were both coming to terms with our lives. Jackson had accepted his own sexuality, and I was the first person he came out to. It in no way, shape, or form impacted our friendship. If anything, I became more comfortable around him, not worrying he’d see our friendship as anything more than platonic.

I love Jackson, but I’m notinlove with him. He’s my best friend, a brother, a protector all wrapped into one. He’s an affectionate man and wards off women on the daily since they often perceive his touches as sexual. With his cropped blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and runner’s build, women fawn over him.

I would too if I was into the wealthy business suit vibe. While I love to read billionaire romances, I’m not attracted by the tailor-made suits and luxury dates men woo women with. Jackson has tried too many times to impress me with his corporate helicopter and expensive bottles of champagne.

Honestly, I can’t tell the difference between Dom Pérignon and the twelve-dollar bottle Kendall and I get at Costco.

“Nervous?” He reaches across the center console and rubs my leg.

“It’s not my first rodeo,” I tease.

“It’s your first time as my fiancée. I can’t promise we won’t get bombarded, but I’ll do my best to keep the chatty Cathy’s away.”

“Please.You’rea chatty Cathy.”

He gives my thigh a squeeze. “Exactly. No one takes airtime away from Jackson Bankes.”

We make pleasant conversation on our way to the hotel where the private function is being held, and true to his word, Jackson accepts the plethora of congratulations and answers all the wedding questions, promising to send an invitation to the grand event.

My stomach churns at the thought of the wedding. Not only have I never fantasized about the ring or the dress, but a big wedding was never important to me either. It could be because I come from such a small family, and with very few relatives and friends, I didn’t see the need.

What I’ve dreamt about was having a family. Lots of children running around, clinging to my legs as I make dinner. Pushing them on the swings in the park. Watching them play sports for their schools.

I smile and nod at our tablemates while Jackson and his business partners talk over dinner. I pick at my food and make polite conversation with the wives and girlfriends, giving them our canned responses about the engagement and wedding.

After we’ve finished dinner, Jackson grabs my hand and hauls me to my feet. “Come dance with me. Two songs and then we can blow this popsicle stand.”

Grateful for the break from being fake, I loop my arms over his shoulders and sway to the music. “Thanks for saving me. If Tina asked one more time how much my ring and dress cost, I was going to punch her in the throat.”

“My violent bride. I’m almost turned on.”

I snort and rest my head on his shoulder. “How’s Taylor doing?”

I glance across the dance floor where he holds a woman in his arms. Not too close, yet not so far from his body where it’s obviously awkward. As the Bankes Corporate attorney, he comes to these events regularly, with a different woman every time.

Not only is dating your corporate attorney against policy, but Taylor was worried about losing his partnership if they found out he was gay. His firm is owned by two traditional sixty-five-year-olds who have a diverse staff, but they’ve dropped too many homophobic comments around Taylor for him to feel comfortable coming out.

Even though Bankes Inc. is an equal opportunity employer and has never had any complaints about bias, race, gender, equality, Jackson isn’t confident his father will accept or support him if he comes out.

If that’s not telling about what kind of man Sebastian Bankes is, the treatment of his wife and other son, who not even Jackson mentions, is eye-opening. Jackson doesn’t bad talk him, but he’s an ass. He loves his company and his portfolio more than people. He’s groomed Jackson to be just like him, which he is, minus the douchery and treatment of his wife.

Jackson has this weird respect for his father. He admits Sebastian is an ass but looks up to his work ethic and management skills, which are reputable. The rest of him is not.

“He’s holding up. I suggested he find himself a woman like you, but they’re hard to find.”

“I think that’s a compliment?”

“Sure the fuck is.” He kisses my forehead. “Your sacrifice means I can inherit Bankes Inc. and gain access to my trust fund.”

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