Chapter 5
AUSTIN
This wedding was bullshit. Summer was bullshit. My dad was bullshit.
Cash and his perfectly insufferable need to control everything I did? He was the biggest pile of bullshit of all.
I shifted in the uncomfortable white chair, trying to subtly create some distance between Summer and me.
She was like static cling. That lint that just wouldn’t shake.
She had her arm looped through mine like we were actually a couple instead of what we really were.
She was the shock collar and Cash held the remote.
One wrong move and she would clamp her hand on my arm.
“You okay?” Summer whispered, leaning closer. Her perfume was nice—something floral and light—but it did nothing to improve my mood.
“Peachy,” I muttered.
She was pretty. I’d give her that. Objectively gorgeous, actually, with her hair swept up in some complicated twist and her designer dress that flattered her perfect figure.
Under different circumstances, I might have been interested.
I would have my hands on her body. I would be thinking about peeling that dress off her.
But these weren’t different circumstances. These were bullshit circumstances where my babysitter happened to look like she’d stepped off a runway. I supposed I should appreciate the fact they went to great lengths to find an attractive woman.
I caught her glancing down at her phone for the third time in ten minutes, her fingers moving quickly across the screen.
“Texting Cash again?” I asked, not bothering to hide the edge in my voice.
She had the decency to look embarrassed, dropping the phone into her clutch. “I’m just keeping him updated.”
“On what? That I’m sitting in a chair? That I haven’t made a run for it? Should we let him know I had to piss earlier, or did you already report that? I was thinking about having two glasses of champagne at the reception. Do we need to clear that with him first?”
“Austin—”
“I’m thirty years old, Summer. I don’t need a fucking hall monitor.”
She stiffened and I could see her trying to contain her own temper. “I’m just doing my job.”
“Your job is to make me look good. Not to narc on me every five seconds.”
“Maybe if you’d given your family any reason to trust you, I wouldn’t need to be here.”
I laughed, sharp and humorless. “Yeah, there it is. Thanks for the reminder of what everyone thinks of me.”
The chairs around us held my brothers and their wives, various cousins, business associates of my father’s, and enough Old Money New Yorkers to fund a small country.
I couldn’t wait to get to the open bar. And there better fucking be an open bar. If Summer dared to limit my alcohol consumption, she was going to find out how much of a dick I could really be.
“You’re fidgeting,” Summer said with exasperation.
I turned to look at her with disbelief. “Just how serious are you taking this babysitting bullshit?”
“Very.”
“Then did you bring me snacks? A juice box? Oh, maybe one of those quiet books to keep me from fidgeting?”
She rolled her eyes. “I had no idea you would be this obnoxious. I should have asked for more.”
I smirked. “You thought it was going to be easy to babysit the notorious Austin Bancroft? Clearly, I need to do a better job ruining my reputation.”
“Will you please just behave?”
“You know, if this were any other situation, I would offer to let you spank me for being bad, but I’m not interested.”
She made a sound. A growl. A sigh. I wasn’t sure. But clearly I was pissing her off.
Good.
The ceremony was already running twenty minutes late. Of course it was. Girls like Sophie were never on time. It was part of their charm, apparently. Everyone was supposed to sit here and wait with bated breath for her grand entrance.
I checked my watch. Summer immediately tensed beside me.
“Don’t even think about it,” she said quietly.
“Think about what?”
“Leaving. Cash said you’d try to bolt.”
“Cash says a lot of things. Like how I need a babysitter at a wedding. Like how showing up here with you on my arm is somehow going to fix my reputation.” I slouched deeper into my chair. “So much for getting laid at this thing.”
Summer’s cheeks flushed. “That’s not—that wasn’t the point.”
“Wasn’t it? Bancroft bad boy shows up with a beautiful woman, looks like he’s settling down, everyone’s happy. Except I’m not getting any of the actual benefits of having a beautiful woman around, am I? Just the surveillance.”
“You’re impossible.”
“That’s what they tell me.”
Movement near the entrance caught my attention. Heads were turning and a ripple of whispers spread through the crowd.
“Finally,” I muttered. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
But it wasn’t Sophie. The wedding march wasn’t playing.
A woman was making her way down the aisle, looking for a seat.
She was alone, walking with her chin up despite the very obvious stares she was getting.
And God, she was stunning. Curves for days, thick sandy blonde hair that caught the late afternoon light, and a dress that hugged every inch of her in a way that made my mouth go dry.
Those were the kind of lady lumps that had a man’s hands twitching to feel.
I liked her immediately.
She found a seat close to where we were sitting. I couldn’t help but notice how she kept her composure even as people whispered. There was something defiant in the way she settled into her chair and stared straight ahead.
Summer leaned in so close her lips nearly brushed my ear. “Poor thing. She just got canceled by the internet yesterday. Her fall from grace makes you look like the poster boy for good behavior.”
I tore my gaze away from the blonde woman. “What happened?”
“The usual story,” she said with a hint of disgust. “Reached too high.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
Summer’s tone dripped with false sympathy. “The internet is destroying her.”
Something uncomfortable twisted in my chest. I knew that feeling. Being torn apart by strangers who thought they knew you and decided you were guilty without trial, who enjoyed watching you burn.
“What happened?” I asked again.
Unfortunately, I didn’t get the answer. The ceremony was finally starting.
I tried to focus on the procession. Bridesmaids in blush pink. Groomsmen in dark gray. A flower girl who looked terrified. But my attention kept drifting back to the woman. She was watching the ceremony with a smile plastered on her face, but there was a tension in her shoulders that I recognized.
She was bracing herself. Waiting for the next blow.
Summer’s arm tightened around mine, like she could sense my increasing need to run free.
I resisted the urge to shake her off. This whole thing was suffocating.
The ceremony, the expectations, the way Summer was basically attached to my hip.
Cash was probably watching from wherever he’d positioned himself, making sure I didn’t make a scene.
I had no doubt he would tackle me if I tried to run.
The vows started. I’d been to enough weddings to know this part by heart. Love, honor, cherish. In sickness and health. Till death do us part. Blah, blah, blah.
I had believed in all that once. Years ago when I was still trying to be the Bancroft my father wanted me to be. She had been beautiful, charming, everything a Bancroft wife should be. I thought I was in love. Hell, I’d been ready to propose.
Then I overheard her on the phone with her friend, laughing about how easy I was to manipulate. How the Bancroft name was her ticket to the life she’d always wanted. How she just had to put up with me for a few more months before she had a ring on her finger.
I ended it that night. Hadn’t told anyone why. Just left New York and spent the last few years proving everyone right—that I was the family disappointment.
It was easier that way. Safer. If you never let anyone close enough to matter, they couldn’t use you. They couldn’t hurt you.
One-night stands were simple. Clean. No one expected anything beyond a good time. No one pretended to care about anything other than the physical. No one could make you feel like an idiot for trusting them.
Summer shifted beside me, pulling out her phone again.
“Rude,” I muttered.
She typed something quickly, then tucked it away. “Cash wants to know if you’re behaving.”
“Tell him I’m contemplating setting something on fire.”
“Austin.”
“I’m kidding. Though at this point, it might be more entertaining than this ceremony.”
The wedding dragged on. More vows. Readings about love that made my skin itch. The bride crying prettily. The groom looking like he’d won the lottery. Everyone cooing and sighing like this was the pinnacle of human achievement.
Maybe I was cynical. Maybe I was broken. But watching two people promise forever when I knew exactly how fast forever could crumble? It felt like a lie wrapped in flowers and fairy dust. Did they know the divorce statistics?
Finally, the officiant pronounced them married. The couple kissed to thunderous applause. Music swelled again as they walked back down the aisle, beaming at their guests.
“Thank god,” I breathed.
Summer stood, pulling me up with her. “Cocktail hour. Behave yourself.”
“You’re really making this fun.”
“I’m not here to be fun. I’m here to keep you out of trouble.”
We filed out with the rest of the guests, spilling into the gardens where the Plume family had set up what looked like a small festival. Bars at multiple stations, waiters walking around with trays of appetizers, and enough floral arrangements to supply every funeral home in Manhattan for a month.
My brothers congregated near one of the bars. I started to head over, but Summer’s grip on my arm tightened.
“Five minutes,” I said. “I’m just saying hi to my family.”
“Cash said—”
“Cash isn’t my keeper.”
I extricated myself and made my way to where Kent and Dane were standing with their wives. Kent clapped me on the shoulder, grinning. “Survived the ceremony?”
“Barely. How much longer is this thing?”
“Hours,” Dane said darkly. He hated these events as much as I did. “At least the food will be good.”
Dane was a world-renowned chef, so if he said the food would be good, he meant it.
I glanced back toward the bar where Cash had positioned himself like a general surveying a battlefield.
He caught my eye, silently warning me. Even from this distance, I could feel his disapproval radiating across the garden.
“He’s watching you like you’re going to explode,” Kent observed.
“He thinks I am.”
“Are you?”
“Depends on how much longer I have to deal with my babysitter.”
Rodney appeared at my elbow, looking entirely too pleased with himself. His shirt collar was smudged with lipstick, and his hair was mussed. “Bancroft! You missed all the fun.”
“Clearly.” I gestured at his collar. “Get lucky during the ceremony?”
“Bride’s cousin. Met her in the parking lot.” He waggled his eyebrows. “She’s very friendly.”
“You’re a disaster.”
“Says the guy who showed up with a handler.”
Summer materialized with her tiny purse extended toward me. “Hold this. I need to use the ladies’ room.”
I stared at the small, beaded purse. “You want me to hold your purse.”
“Please.”
“I’m not a coat rack, Summer.”
“Austin.” Her smile was tight. “Please.”
I took the damn thing. Rodney laughed so hard he nearly spilled his drink.
“Oh man, Cash really did a number on you. Got you carrying purses now.”
“Shut up.”
“What’s next? Picking out china patterns?”
“I will punch you.”
“No, you won’t. Your girlfriend would tell on you.”
I rolled my eyes and turned away from Rodney’s cackling, scanning the crowd. I never should have vented to him last night. Of course, he would make fun of me.
There she was, the woman from the ceremony. She was standing alone near one of the garden paths, holding a glass of champagne and looking like she was trying to decide whether to bolt.
Then I saw them. Three guests, phones out, pointed in her direction. Whispering to each other. One of them was filming. The woman noticed. Her entire body tensed.
More people started to take notice. Phones appeared like vultures sensing blood. The whispers grew louder. I knew that look on her face. Trapped. Hunted. Wondering how bad it was going to get.
Something in my chest twisted. I’d been exactly where she was. Different scandal, different reason, but the same feeling of being picked apart by strangers who thought they had the right.
Fuck it.
I handed Summer’s clutch to a very confused Rodney and crossed the distance to the woman in quick strides. She didn’t see me coming until I was right there, sliding my arm around her waist and pulling her against my side.
She fit perfectly. Soft and warm and smelling like an orange grove. I wanted to bury my face in her hair. Her head snapped up, eyes wide with shock.
“Play along,” I murmured, just loud enough for her to hear.
Then I raised my voice, letting it carry across the garden with all the Bancroft confidence I could muster. “You look stunning, baby girl.”
Her mouth opened. Closed. She was looking at me like I’d lost my mind. Maybe I had.
Every phone in the vicinity swung toward us. Perfect.