Perfectly Charming

by Liz Talley

September 27, 2016 · Montlake Romance

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Perfectly Charming began as a perfectly serviceable contemporary romance about a woman who goes through a painful divorce from her since-high-school boyfriend in a small Mississippi town, takes some money she inherited from a close friend who died of cervical cancer, and finds herself a contract nurse position in a hospital in Pensacola, Florida, on the beach, far from everyone sticking their well-intentioned but overbearing and pitying noses in her business. I liked the setup, and while I noticed some cliches and some inconsistent development, I was eager to keep reading… until the dialogue and choice of language took a horrible turn into misogyny and ruined the story for me.

I’m drawn to books about people taking a mulligan and hitting reset on their lives, either because something has happened to them, or because they are about to happen to something. In this case, Jess, the heroine, was ready for the next step in her life plan of having a baby with her husband when he comes home with a bouquet of flowers to announce he wants a divorce (in part because he’s banging the florist from whom he bought the flowers). (You stay classy, dude.) Jess is inspired in her whole-life do-over by her late friend Lacy, who died and left each of her closest friends a letter, some money, and her charm bracelet, which each friend is supposed to add to as they fulfill their lives in some way or another. Each friend’s story is a book in the series.

Jess takes a short-term rental on a beachfront condo and finds a familiar face living nearby – Ryan Reyes, her high school lab partner, and a genuine genius, who graduated high school and went to college as a pre-teen, and has since gone on to earn an MD and a PhD. Prior to the start of the story, he’d invented a thing involving stem cells, sold the thing to some company for a lot of money, and then called his own mulligan and chucked all the science in favor of moving from California to Florida, buying a fishing charter boat, and hiring himself out to people to fish all day.

Ryan has taken great pains to cultivate a charming beach bum image. In high school, he was small, plain, awkward, and very nerdy, and some of Jess’ friends, including her boyfriend-then-husband-now-ex, had called him her “puppy,” because he had a serious crush on her. Since then, he grew up, worked out, and studied seriously how to be charming, how to meet women, how to be popular, how to sink cool shots in pool – everything he needed to know to have the life he wanted, which had nothing to do with science or research. He wanted to “live” but didn’t really question why or for what reason he wanted this tanned, laid back, charming life. Most of the women in the story, including Jess, do find him tanned and charming, so some of his work paid off.

Also, I can’t discuss the things that ruined the story for me without spoiling just about everything, so please be aware, spoilers abound. If you’re thinking, “Oh, this sounds like my jam,” you may want to stop here because this is the border between “Review Land” and “Spoiler Town” (which, if you’re using a map to navigate, is 45 miles southwest of Flavor Town).

The conflict of the relationship rests mostly on Ryan being himself, or playing a role, and how Jess being there, along with her knowledge of his history and who he used to be, threatens his new life. They get close and hook up, and genuinely like one another, but more conflict arises later when one of the charm-bracelet friends announces she’s getting married in their home town and Jess MUST be there.

I’ll be honest. This scene bugged the crap out of me for a number of reasons.

1. The bride calls Jess to tell her that she’s getting married in two weeks. Not a lot of time.
2. ON Labor Day Weekend.
3. Jess HAS to be there. HAS TO. She can’t get married without her! (So, how about more than 2 weeks notice, eh?)
4. And Jess, who, as I mentioned, is a contract nurse at a hospital, is WORKING on Labor Day but no, she has to be there.
5. And by the way, Jess’ ex husband will be there because he has to be invited or something, and that’ll be awkward and said bride is really sorry.

So Jess begs Ryan to go to the wedding with her – and that adds a whole new conflict because the last place he wants to be is back in his hometown, where every memory makes him miserable. But of course the way she and Ryan have talked about their hometown and the way their relationships are and were isn’t the way they appear when the two actually show up. The telling from the characters doesn’t match the events of the latter part of the book, so the expected problems aren’t as big as they were made out to be, and problems that are large and substantial are treated as no big deal.

There were cliched phrases in dialogue and in narration, and descriptions like this one as Ryan checked Jess out:

Ryan allowed his gaze to wander over his “old” friend. Jess had thick, curly hair that often stuck out in riotous curls around her face. Her skin was golden, her eyes a sleek feline brown, her chin pointed elfishly. She was taller than most women, about five foot ten, and her breasts were a nice size, slightly out of proportion with her long, slim-hipped angularity.

At least she wasn’t looking in the mirror and describing herself, I guess, but… elflishly?

That passage was about 20% into the book, and I would have given up and stopped reading except that the conflict inherent in Ryan’s character, the brilliant and awkward dude transformed into a carefree, charming, beach dwelling fishing boat captain, was interesting to me. I wanted to see what would happen, and how his inner mega-nerd would appear. So I kept reading through more cliches, inconsistent descriptions of characters and backstory, and increasing slut-shaming as perfect, charming Jess is compared repeatedly to other women, especially the sexually “trying-too-hard” neighbor who also has a thing for Ryan.

All of this wouldn’t have bothered me too much except for the part where the slut-shaming devolved into outright steaming piles of misogyny that peppered the story. Then I was half rage-reading, and half hoping that someone, anyone, would call out the sexism and address it.

Grab a drink, because it’s about to get snarly in here.

First, there’s the general assumptions about men, emphasis on the “ass” sumptions:

The man had made no move toward anything more than friendship even if he’d checked her out over excellent Chinese takeout. He was a man, right? Men couldn’t help checking women out. DNA and all that.

Yeah. DNA. And all that.

Both Becky and Morgan wore bikini tops paired with athletic shorts and flip-flops. Conversely, Jess wore a T-shirt, tennis skirt, and sneakers. Her sex appeal wasn’t the blown up obvious type. She dressed like a lady who didn’t like to show the goods, which of course made Ryan want very much to see those goods. Some girls knew how to build anticipation.

Morgan is the neighbor, and Becky is one of Jess’ coworkers. This scene, coupled with another scene wherein Becky assumes that Jess and Ryan are going home together and Ryan protests that Jess isn’t “that kind of girl,” were early indicators of how badly this book was going to piss me off. All the other women who aren’t (a) dead or (b) part of a couple or (c) the future heroine of a future book are depicted and described negatively when compared with Jess.

So this is all taking place on Ryan’s boat, where he’s invited her and the other women plus two buddies of his out on the water. One of his friends asks Jess to dinner, which freaks her out so she runs into the galley to talk to Ryan, who is already very interested in her himself but aware that she’s recovering from her divorce.

Her touch wasn’t electrifying or erotic, but it was somehow profound. She’d never touched him intentionally before, and her fingers curled against his reminded him of eighteenth-century poetry, like Pope’s “The Rape of the Lock,” the ironic profundity of a simple gesture taken to new heights.

WHAT JUST HAPPENED.

Her fingers reminded him of 18th century poetry?

And that’s when Ryan, who had studiously directed himself over the years toward Gross Pointe Broville, took a right turn into Complete Misogynist Garbage Fire.

She had him discombobulated with the whole vulnerability thing…. Something about rescuing her appealed to his machismo.

Maybe he needed to step away from Jess and look for the man he’d been for the past year… before he had to go out and find tampons for his vagina. The thought made him smile.

I promise you, I am not smiling right now.

Really, really not smiling.

Go out and find tampons for his vagina? REALLY?

There’s so much wrong in that sentence I don’t have enough room to unpack it all. I’m reading this book specifically for his character and hey, he suddenly turns into a sexist, offensive shitbag.

Maybe this was an aberration. Maybe he’d say something like that OUT LOUD and Jess or someone else would call him on it. Maybe it would get better, or he would get over himself. Maybe the whole point of his shitbaggery was that he’d learn to extract his head from his ass!

So I kept reading.

Yeah. It was a mistake. None of that happens. Instead, it got worse.

Jess goes on her date with Ryan’s friend Logan, and Ryan and Morgan join them. They go to the beach, and I got this mix of descriptions:

“Nice bikini,” Logan said.

That was an understatement.

“Uh, thanks,” Jess said, clasping her hands between breasts that were tastefully covered. Her bikini was not as revealing as Morgan’s, having more substantial material and an almost modest cut, but her body was amazing….

He thought about the Jess he’d fantasized about all those years ago while lying in his twin bed…. Her Morning Glory cheerleading uniform showed her long, tanned legs and clung perfectly to her breasts, nipping in at her slim waist. She had amazing collarbones, and her arms were somehow both elegant and athletic. He’d adored her then…. Jess had been his ideal girl.

And now she stood in front of him, no longer girlish, but splendidly woman.

(NB: Morning Glory is their hometown.)

So yeah, in case I missed it the first time, Jess is ladylike and splendidly woman, Morgan is trying too hard and her bikini is less tasteful, and Ryan constantly thinks of Jess’ body, what it was in high school and what it is now. The combined physical descriptions make her his ideal woman – and no mention of anything other than her amazing collarbones and elegant athletic arms. Not, like, her intellect or her personality or anything about her job – the practicalities of which are rarely mentioned at all.

While she’s at the beach on this date with another dude who is paying more attention to Morgan, Jess decides that she’s into Ryan and why shouldn’t she go for what she wants. He’s made it clear he likes her, they’re adults, nothing holding them back, yadda yadda.

Wasn’t as if they would enter an awkward stage where for years down the road they’d not be able to meet each other’s eyes. So why the hell not?

Why the hell not?

That should be her mantra.

She unwrapped her arms from around her stomach and stiffened her back. Making her breasts stand out. They were nice breasts, the perfect C cup, still perky.

On behalf of every other person with every other letter-sized cup:

(Note to all y’all: there is no perfect size, no matter what the Wakefield twins or this heroine tell you, k? That’s what I’m telling myself at this point.)

But hey, if I was worried that Ryan noticed Jess physically but Jess didn’t notice him at all… not so, not so. Ryan is good looking, has a muscular body he has worked hard on (though he doesn’t go to the gym during the course of the book that I can tell) and…

He had slipped his shoes off when he came in earlier, and she noted he had nice feet — tanned, trimmed toenails, strong with crinkly hair atop.

Thanks and glory be to all cocktails above and below, I know what his feet look like.

Later, Becky and Jess are chatting at work after a bad day, discussing the double date:

“…You went out with Logan yesterday. How did that go?”

“Fine. I think he was more interested in Morgan than me.”

Becky made a face. “You’re better off. An accountant? Please. Besides, Morgan’s assets” – Becky juggled pretend boobs in front of her own chest – “were on display. It’s a wonder she can walk with those things. Wonder how much they cost?”

Jess laughed. “Maybe that’s what I need – a chest expansion. Seems to work.”

Didn’t she just get done telling me she had a perfect, perky C-cup? And exactly how does the chest expansion work? DO TELL, MA’AM. I might need it spelled out for me.

So Ryan and Jess hook up, everything’s going well, and then her friend Rosemary drops her “I’m getting married in two weeks and you HAVE TO BE IN MY WEDDING over Labor Day weekend” bomb. Ryan doesn’t really want to go to Morning Glory ever again, especially since Jess’ ex husband is about his least favorite human being ever and his childhood was a lot of loneliness and difficulty since he was raised like a human science project when his parents figured out he was a prodigy. But he agrees to go with Jess, who doesn’t want to be at the wedding without a date since her ex will be there with his latest girlfriend.

As an aside: I must confess, in just about every iteration, I do not get the “I HAVE TO HAVE A DATE FOR THIS WEDDING SO PRETEND TO BE MY SIGNIFICANT OTHER” trope. Is going on your own, dressing up so you feel fabulous, and having a good time with the other people you know not an option? How is it that attending without a date is the cause for so much agita and plot bunnies? It’s, like, a handful of hours, especially if you don’t stay for the whole reception. I remain baffled.

Of course, this whole I NEED A DATE FOR THIS WEDDING plot device gives Ryan some room to be more sexist and gross:

“So you want to use me?” he teased, even as part of him wondered if that’s all he was to her – just a good looking guy to have sex with and prove to Benton and everyone else she was doing fine. Something inside him wanted to be more than arm candy. Didn’t she feel anything for him other than desire?

William H. Macy, he was turning into a girl, wondering about feelings.

Mr. Macy sums up my reaction to that comment:

Feelings! Worry about another person! MORE FEELINGS.

Poor Ryan. Afflicted with human emotions that give him gender panic.

They make the trip back to their hometown. Jess is very happy to see her friends, Rosemary’s fiance is an Italian man from New York who is portrayed as ill fitting in the small Southern town as you’d expect, and Ryan is really miserable. They all go to a bar, Jess’ ex dances with her even when she doesn’t want him to, and Ryan gets all asshurt. They fight when they get back to his parents’ house, where they’re both staying (for some seriously convoluted reasons that are revealed in an ‘As you know, Bob,’ conversation), and we get this moment of glory:

“…You hide beneath a glossy veneer that you think erases who you truly are. You’re the one who’s afraid. So don’t lecture me on who I am.” She gathered up her purse and the bag she’d packed last night with her makeup and toiletries. “I have to go. I have to be at the brunch in an hour.”

“Hey, Jess,” he called. She turned and arched an eyebrow. Her heart thudded, and anger made her flushed. “Stop being such a pussy.”

“STOP BEING SUCH A PUSSY.”

I suppose it’s not a surprise that a guy who ponders buying tampons for his vagina after having too many feels would not hesitate to tell his girlfriend to stop being a pussy.

But holy hell, was I infuriated.

Does Jess turn around and give him hell?

Does she explain to him like a wrathful Sugarbaker exactly how sexist and unacceptable that was?

No, she slumps out the door and wants to cry:

She wanted to burst into tears and tell him she was sorry for saying such hurtful things. But she couldn’t do either of those things. Maybe tomorrow she’d think about not being such a pussy. Today she had to be a bridesmaid.

NO. ALL THE NO. OCEANS OF NOPE.

Jess internalizes the idea that she’s a pussy, and hours later is still going. She chastises herself:

She’d likely tossed away the best thing that had happened to her.

Because she was a chicken. Or a pussy. Or a pussified chicken.

“Pussified chicken.”

You know, in case you weren’t sure what being a “pussy” meant.

So then things get awkward and there’s a big misunderstanding because of course there is, and Ryan takes off right before the wedding in a way that allows half the town (who were all available and could drop all their plans and any vacation rental deposits on the last-minute wedding planned in two weeks that somehow included handmade bridesmaid dresses sewn by the bride) to witness his flounce.

Jess doesn’t fire up the truck and chase after him, though.

He did what he’d accused Jess of doing that morning.

He ran.

And he’d called HER a pussy.

Jess’ ex-husband proves himself to be a first-class piece of trash, saying of Ryan that he’s “kinda girly and …weird,” and that he’s a “pussy-whipped man” for having been so into Jess in high school and still being into her now.

Could the people in this book please stop calling each other pussies? Like, really, the best and most useful thing they can say to insult one another is to compare them to a vagina? Objectification insults? Really?

To quote Elyse’s review of another craptacular hero, Jake Sharp from The Protector,

I’m not sure what feeling pussy-ish means…. powerful and remarkable? Like he’s capable of delivering human life into the world? Like he’s made of tissue both capable of experiencing sexual gratification AND possessing the materials needed to grow and sustain life?

No, it’s the opposite of all that, because feelings are girly and being girly is weakness and I’m starting to feel a little terrible about myself.

Then there’s some driving and some apologizing and then kissing and the end. There’s an epilogue and the setup for the next book but I’m not going to revisit this series.

I expect better of the books I read. I don’t read romance to feel insulted. I want stories wherein the misogynist language isn’t left unchallenged when the hero uses it to insult the heroine. I don’t want to finish a romance feeling queasy and ashamed, like I’ve been insulted along with the heroine by the hero, who was pretty much the reason I was reading the book in the first place. The idea of someone who was intellectually brilliant achieving so much professionally then realizing he was unhappy (because a homeless person identified his misery, which is another thing this book does – uses homeless people, people with terminal diseases, and people recovering from addictions as foils and devices for the hero and heroine to learn about themselves) was interesting. Ryan was aware of himself enough to know that he needed to figure out how to function socially – and in most cases he was kind, considerate, and able to read the intentions of people around him enough to gently say no to women who were coming onto him, or give people space when they needed it. Most of the time, in early interactions, he was fine.

Then he’d open his mouth and garbage would come out and then I hated him. I hated the inconsistent characterization. I hated that the heroine internalized what he said and applied it to herself. I hated that no one in the story said, “Hold up, this is NOT ok.”

I’m baffled why any of these examples were acceptable. I don’t think they are.

For me, this was an otherwise better-than-meh contemporary romance which was completely soured by the repeated misogyny and sexism that was never addressed. It may have been internalized and accepted by the heroine and accepted by everyone else, but it wasn’t ok with me.

I wrote this prior to the Trump tapes surfacing, so the timing is entirely coincidental, but the point remains.

No one in the story called it out, so I will.