LANA

 

One year later

 

 

Our glasses clink, and when my eyes meet his, I see deep and honest adoration reflected in them. Jackson is wearing a new suit in dark anthracite with a matching tie, a color that brings out the vibrant green of his attentive eyes. He looks at me with a smile so sincere and happy that it melts my heart.

We are at a lavish banquet hall inside the hotel that served as a getaway on our first date, if one can call it that. While it was not a proper date with a dinner and a movie, it ended with more than most first dates do. So much more.

The hall is rather small and intimate, but provides more than enough room for all of today's party guests and a setting that almost feels too big and too festive for the occasion. Speeches were presented and congratulations were exchanged. I was the first to speak, crazy nervous and flushed with an overload of happiness.

Now that the formal part of the evening is done, I am finally starting to relax a little and just relish the feeling of accomplishment. 

I still can't believe that today is all about us, our project, my idea. It would never have come to reality if it wasn't for Jackson. How will I ever thank this man for the support and love he has been giving me for the past year?

In my eyes, he is the true hero of the day, but that is not what the event suggests. Today is all about the work I - we - have put into this project for the past year. It was a struggle to get where we are, but never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined that it would be so rewarding. We are celebrating the success of our app, Neighborhood, and the fact that this was the first month of operating in the black.

While these past twelve months have been a phase of investing, learning and failure, it looks like we are now entering the stage of success. Of course, it's a stretch to speak of an entire year, as I was still busy with my thesis and finishing my degree during the first few months. But once that was done, I could finally use all my time and power to make this happen.

Jackson and his investor angels enabled me to hire a programmer right from the start, as well as providing a salary for me and Celia, who became our marketing girl. She has become a great asset to the company and is not limited by a timid spirit as I am. I could never do what she does as well as she does it. Promote, network, spread our name out there as if we were the greatest thing ever.

Maybe we are. Now that things are finally falling into place and more and more users are using our app, I'm beginning to feel a certain degree of pride myself.

However, it's not the same kind of pride that I know from my family. It's not labeled by a title or by an esteem bestowed upon me for being the smart girl. It's a sense of accomplishment in a way that I haven't known before.

Quite frankly, it feels amazing.

"To my little rebel," Jackson says as he raises his glass. "A good girl no more."

"Only for you," I add, winking at him.

His gaze darkens and adopts that mischievous expression I love so much.

"Yes," he whispers. "My perfectly good girl."

He wraps his arm around me, placing his hand on my hip. I'm wearing a dark red cocktail dress that hugs my curves so perfectly, as if it was custom-tailored. Jackson bought it for me, just for this occasion. I have fought off his extravagant presents for months after we started dating officially, but he wouldn't hear a word of it. Accepting his generosity has become a lot easier since I've started to make some money of my own.

I take a sip of my champagne, while Jackson regards me with his loving eyes. He has been especially sweet during the past few days, so much so that it almost scares me. My life is enshrouded in a surreal cloud of wonder, and I'm beginning to grasp more and more of its beautiful aspects.

Still, sometimes it's hard to believe who I am now, where I am, and who I am with. I knew I had to move out of my dorm once I received my degree, but when Jackson suggested I should just move in with him, I was sure that he must be joking. We only knew each other for a few months, and most of that time was spent with banter and in secrecy. I was surprised at his certainty at such an early stage.

"Why not?” he said when we were talking about it shortly before my graduation ceremony. "I have plenty of room, and I..."

He broke off at that moment and just looked at me. We looked at each other for what seemed like an eternity, and we both knew what he wanted to say. I will never forget that moment, seeing him like that. The handsome, dominant Jackson Portland, holding my hand and looking at me, at a loss for words, as he struggles to express his feelings for me.

So, I made it easier for him.

"I love you, too," I said in a soft voice.

The smile that appeared on his face will forever be imprinted in my memory as the most beautiful expression I have ever seen.

I moved in with him a week later, not a doubt left that this was the right decision. There has not been a single moment of regret.

We were both freed of the confining environment of that college campus, and he did everything in his power to help me with my business plan.

I love living with him. I love everything about it, even the fights we have. Working together has been a challenge, but I learned so much in such a short time, about the startup world I was about to enter, and about him.

Just a little more than a year, but we have become close enough for me to know that Jackson is nervous today. He is standing next to me, displaying the same confidence I saw on him when he taught at my school, but I can sense that something is up. His tension is traveling through my veins as if it was my own.

"What's wrong?" I ask in a whisper, leaning in closer so only he can hear me.

He looks at me, shaking his head a little too fast to be convincing.

"Nothing," he says. "Why would anything be wrong on a day like this?"

He turns away from me and scans the small hall like an emperor assessing his realm. In a way, that's what this is. Most of the people who are gathered here today are associates of his, people who are working for and with him - and with me.

My company is still small, with only six employees, plus Celia and me as co-founders, but our support network is nothing to sneeze at. My favorite angel is standing right next to me, but he is not the only one who supported our endeavor financially. The other investors are here, too, the same people who sat in front of me about a year ago, deciding my future as I stood before them with trembling knees and a burning heart.

I didn't think I would have a chance with them, but here I am, co-founder of my own little startup, the boss of six wonderful people who worked their asses off to make this happen. All of them are my age or even younger, and despite all the hard work we put into this, we still find time to be silly at our private office in a co-working space. I love going to work, and I love working overtime. I've never felt this kind of passion for anything before, and I've never had this many people in my life who I could call friends.

My thoughts of gratitude always travel back to him, Jackson, who is now smiling and nodding toward someone. I follow his gaze and spot Celia who is approaching us with a bright smile on her face and a glass of champagne in her hand - most likely not her first.

"Hello, lovers," she pipes as she comes to a halt in front of us. She is especially hyper today and casts a suspiciously broad grin in Jackson's direction.

Seriously. Something must be going on. Something that I am not aware of.

"You seem to be enjoying the champagne tonight," Jackson remarks, throwing a look at Celia.

She grins. "Oh, yes I am, Mr. Portland."

She winks at him, and Jackson clears his throat, before taking another sip from his own glass.

Celia turns to me. "You having a good time?"

She slurs a little, and it's easy to tell that she's quite tipsy already. Her cheeks are glowing the treacherous red of the drunk. She has been looking forward to today for weeks, and we are celebrating a huge success, so it wouldn't be fair to judge her for having fun.

"Yes, I am," I reply, winking at her. "Maybe not as much as you."

Celia shakes her head, still smiling from ear to ear. "Oh, I'm sure you will."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Celia is just about to reply, when she is interrupted by Jackson, who clears his throat noisily.

"Excuse me for a moment, ladies," he says, softly touching my arm as he turns around and walks away. There might be other people he needs to talk to.

"Always business," Celia comments as if she's reading my thoughts. "Always busy. Can he ever relax?"

I smile to myself, knowing very well how Jackson likes to relax the most. It usually involves me on my knees or tied to our bed, pleading and begging in cathartic agony for him to fuck me and grant me release. It is the best form of relaxation, and I can still feel the aftermath of our last play this morning. A quick session followed by a joint shower to take the edge off.

"Oh, he does," I hear myself whisper, and Celia giggles, sensing that she shouldn't ask any further questions.

"You lucky girl," she says instead, casting me another wink.

I guess I am a lucky girl.

"Excuse me," I hear Jackson's voice from behind my back. "Could I have your attention for a moment!"

I turn around and see him standing at the other end of the hall on a little stage area we used earlier during our speeches. However, the place is now decorated with white roses all over, and I gasp in surprise as I see the flower petals encircling the stage that Jackson is standing on. They frame him perfectly, pinned against the wall behind him, leading all the way down to the floor, where they transition into two lines of white blossoms that form a path leading from where I am standing all the way to him.

When did these flowers appear?

My eyes cast back and forth between Jackson, the flowers, and Celia, who grins knowingly.

"Go," she says, beckoning me to follow the flowery path toward Jackson, as she takes the glass out of my hand.

"There's one last item on today's schedule," he says, his voice loud enough for all to hear. "And I need the woman of the evening up here in order to proceed."

All eyes are on me as I approach him on wobbly legs, wondering what this could be about. I already have so much, what else could he possibly have in store to make this day even greater than it already is?

He takes my hand as I step onto the stage next to him.

"Jackson, what is this-" I whisper, but he hushes me by putting his finger on his lips, before he takes both my hands, turning toward me and looking at me as if there was no one else in the room.

"When I first met you more than a year ago, I told you right away that I liked you," he says. "I told you that I liked you because you posed a challenge, and I like challenges."

An amused murmur travels through the room, my heart speeding as my mind slowly begins to realize what is going on here.

"I thought I had to prove you wrong about something," Jackson continues, his eyes still locked on mine. "But you not only challenged me, you surprised me. Again and again. Your strength, your ambition, your beauty, it all caught me by surprise. I didn't stand a chance against you."

He pauses. The room is stock-still and bursting with tension.

"I love you, Lana," Jackson continues, squeezing my hands.

And then he drops down on one knee, producing a small jewelry box from the inside pocket of his jacket.

He opens it, presenting a platinum ring with a subtle diamond setting. I feel as if my heart is about to jump out of my chest, impending tears of joy threatening to choke me.

I never thought I would ever be one of those girls, standing in front of a kneeling man with their hand pressed against their mouth as they are about to burst out in tears of joy.

But here I am.

"Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

His question is posed in a deep yet calm voice, trembling beneath the confidence on the surface.

I don't think anybody but Jackson hears my answer, as I breathe a desperate 'Yes' while succumbing to my urge to cry, falling down on my knees beside him – and right into his arms.