#hawthorne

And it might have been, if Avery had actually gotten the interviewer she was supposed to have, Clarissa Petrowski. She was a young, enthusiastic woman who Avery got along with really well. Every time the two of them had crossed paths, they’d engaged in good conversation before parting ways.

However, last minute, Clarissa called in sick and so the interviewer was switched to a man named Shawn Palmer.

“So, Avery, may I call you Avery?” He didn’t wait for her to respond. “You became one of the richest women in the United States a few years ago, and then set out to give most of that fortune away in just five years.”

Avery nodded, smiling. “I did.”

“Would you say that your overly sentimental disposition towards the less fortunate is one of your better qualities? Or did you simply miss out on financial planning meetings before the full inheritance was transferred to you?” Shawn looked at her in a way that could only be described as patronizing.

So that was how this was going to go.

Forcing all of the media training Avery had ever received to the forefront of her mind, Avery responded. “I underwent extensive lessons on how best to manage the fortune I was blessed with for a year, following the initial will reading. In that time, I was able to learn the charitable difference I would be able to make.” She took a small breath, smiling at Shawn. “Ultimately, I decided that the most change would happen by acting quickly, hence the five-year timeline.”

Shawn nodded, humming noncommittally. “I see. So your financial advisors encouraged this decision, then? That surprises me. I’m sure for the sake of their jobs, they wished one of the late Tobias Hawthorne’s grandsons had inherited the fortune instead.” He played it off like it was a joke they were both in on, laughing to himself.

It took all of Avery’s self control to not clench her jaw. “Mr. Hawthorne’s grandsons have been nothing but supportive of my decisions, which is something I am incredibly grateful for. I take their words and support to heart,” Avery said, channeling as much sincerity as she could muster.

“I’m sure they have been,” Shawn said, raising his eyebrows at her in a way that suggested something entirely different.

“They have,” Avery agreed, ignoring the gesture entirely. “Grayson Hawthorne, Tobias Hawthorne’s second oldest grandson, worked by my side with the Hawthorne Foundation and now helps lead the Hannah the Same Backward as Forward Foundation. His help is what’s allowed me to pursue everything that I have.”

Shawn snorted softly to himself, as if he found that answer funny, before moving on to his next question. “Since your quick rise to fame, you’ve done a handful of magazine spreads and interviews. Is it safe to say that there’s a bikini shoot in your future?”

What the hell?

Avery blinked. She didn’t even know what to say to that. The subtle digs were frustrating, but this was just downright insane. “I have no plans to pursue any form of modeling career at the moment,” she said, redirecting as best she could. “I’m currently aiming to spend most of my time and energy toward the Foundation and the Grandest Game.”

“Doesn’t that get boring?” Shawn asked. “I mean, you became the richest teenager in the world at seventeen, and have more money than you know what to do with. Don’t you want to do something fun? You should leave the business side of things to those more qualified.”

How do I get out of here? Avery was done. She genuinely didn’t know how much longer she could stand talking to him, and it hadn’t even been very long yet. Alisa, who’d been seated on the other side of the room looked the most displeased Avery had seen her in a long time. But with the interview still going on, she couldn’t technically interject.

“Thankfully,” Avery began, “I’ve been fortunate enough to be surrounded by the best of the best. And I’ve always found that I learn the most by doing, which is why I’ve taken a more hands-on approach toward my charitable pursuits.”

Rolling his eyes, Shawn continued to press. “Sure, sure. But you’re a woman. Surely you don’t actually want to be doing any of the actual work. Just get your picture taken to make it look like you’ve done something and then move on.”

Avery had never been so insulted by an interviewer in her life. How on earth was he even employed?

“I take pride in the work that I do, and I couldn’t imagine passing it off to anyone else. Working alongside the team that I have and then seeing the impact makes everything all the more rewarding,” Avery said.

“Come on now, don’t be so uptight,” Shawn told her, like this was some sort of act she was putting on. “You can be honest here, Avery. Everyone knows that girls like you just want to look good and have fun. So tell me about the fun.”

Avery channeled her inner Grayson and gave her best socialite smile. “One of the more recent endeavors that I have been fortunate enough to sponsor is various business scholarships in universities across the world. As a result, I get to travel to a wide range of different countries and speak at these universities.” She took a small breath, putting those memories at the forefront of her mind. “As someone who has always been passionate about traveling, it’s been wonderful being able to speak with all of the students, as well as see the sights of the country I’m visiting.”

“Travel! There we go, that’s something real.” Shawn was smiling at her, like this was what he’d been trying to get out of her since the interview started. “You and your boyfriend, Jameson Hawthorne, have been spotted traveling the world since your one-year tenure at Hawthorne House ended. Tell me what he enjoys more, the views or you?”

Avery wanted to throw up. And then scream. And then throw up again.

“Jameson and I have both enjoyed getting to learn about the culture and history of all the places we’ve visited,” Avery said. “We both like to integrate into local life as much as we can when we go abroad, whether it be trying local cuisine or stopping by small shops.”

Shawn nodded, and seeming bored, flipped through his notes. “Enough about that. Now, there was quite a bit of scandal surrounding your own family members when you first came into the spotlight. It was even rumored that your older half-sister Libby Grambs got with Nash Hawthorne as a way of securing your spot as heiress. Care to comment on the validity of this?”

Nope. That was it. Avery could tolerate the derogatory words toward herself, but she was not going to sit here and let this man speak that way about her older sister. Thankfully, Alisa got the memo that Avery was about to lose her shit and stood up.

“Mr. Palmer, I’m afraid that’s all the time Ms. Grambs has today,” she said, her words neutral but her face sharp. “Thank you for your time, we’ll be in touch about publication.”

Avery shook Shawn's hand, even though it made her sick to do so, and stood up. Rage didn’t even describe the way she was feeling at the moment. As Alisa led her out of the building and into the SUV that Oren had pulled up, she felt like she wasn’t even in her own head.

“You finished early,” Oren commented, when Avery had sat down in the back seat.

“That article won’t be getting published,” Alisa said, immediately typing away at her phone. “And if they insist on it, it will be our version. Nothing that sorry excuse for a journalist has to write.”

Avery was thankful that Alisa seemed just as upset as she was. She couldn’t even get the words out to describe how awful that had been.

Oren nodded. “That bad? Is he someone we need to keep tabs on?”

Alisa shook her head. “No. But I will be making sure he is blacklisted from the industry by this time tomorrow. That was unacceptable.” She paused, turning back to look at Avery. “Are you alright? You held things together very well in there.”

Avery nods, even though she feels the furthest thing from alright. “I’m fine,” she mumbled, staring blankly out the window.

She didn’t even bother trying to make it sound truthful. She couldn’t.

✧

By the time they arrived back at Hawthorne House, Avery only felt worse. She knew that things wouldn’t always be pretty as a young woman with a lot of power, and that people wouldn’t always respect her, but that interview took things to a whole different level.

But, not wanting to let on just how badly things had been, Avery put on her best face as she went inside. Thankfully, at this point in the day, most of the other inhabitants of Hawthorne House were off doing other things, so she was less likely to run into anyone.

Avery managed to make it to her room before she broke. Angry, frustrated tears welled up in her eyes, threatening to fall. She took a deep breath and went straight for the bathroom. Afterall, crying in the shower didn’t count.

The interview played over and over in her mind as the bathroom filled with steam. She genuinely didn’t understand what had prompted that series of questions. Aside from being incredibly unprofessional, it was just downright disrespectful and cruel.

Avery tried to force any more thoughts of it away as hot water hit her head and streamed down her back.

I’m fine. Everything is fine, she told herself, even though she didn’t really believe it.

By the time she got out of the shower, her fingers were pruney and her eyes were bloodshot. Despite being barely an hour before dinner would be served, Avery decided she wasn’t up for socializing and put her pajamas on.

She was done with the day. Interviews tended to take it out of her, but this was different. This was demoralizing in a way that no interview had ever been before.

Flopping down on her bed, she curled up in the soft blanket Jameson had gifted her recently, for no other reason than he “just felt like she needed it.” And he was right, too. It was huge, and had a slight weight to it, perfect for hiding from the world.

Not that she ended up hiding for very long.

A knock at the door roused her from her thoughts. “Come in,” she called.

Jameson came in, grinning at her. But when his eyes met hers, his entire demeanour shifted. “Heiress, hey, what’s going on?” Jameson wasn’t someone that Avery would normally characterize as soft, but he was good at knowing when he needed to be.

“I’m fine,” Avery said, sitting up in an attempt to make her words sound more convincing. “It’s just been a long day.”

If Jameson’s expression was anything to go off of, he didn’t buy that for a second. “Right,” he told her, walking over to the bed to sit next to her. “Why don’t you try that one again?”

Technically, he could call Tahiti right now, and Avery would be obligated to tell him everything. But this was him giving her the space to talk about it—or to ignore it.

And a part of her really wanted to. But she knew that Jameson would find out eventually anyway, and when he did, it wouldn’t be pretty. For Shawn, that was. Sighing, Avery rolled over to make room for Jameson to settle on the bed beside her.

He took the invitation for what it was and laid down on the bed, pulling Avery into his side. She curled into him, letting her head rest on his chest. Jameson’s hand made its way into her hair, gently detangling the still damp strands. “Tell me what’s going on, Heiress,” he murmured.

“Just a bad interview,” Avery mumbled, letting her eyes slip shut under Jameson’s ministrations.

Jameson hummed lowly. “How bad? Because I’ve seen you after bad interviews. They don’t get you like this.”

It was true. She’d gotten a lot better at letting snide comments or questions that got a little too close to her personal life just roll off of her. But with this one, she just couldn’t. “He started off by insinuating I was stupid,” Avery said. “And then tried to imply that the only reason you and your brothers support me is because I’m a woman.”

The hand in her hair went still. “He said what?” Jameson asked, his tone edging into something dangerous.

Avery sighed. “That wasn’t even the worst part. I got asked if I was planning on doing a bikini shoot, and then when I tried to keep the conversation on track he said that girls like me only want to make it look like we’re doing the work while we’re actually going off and having fun.” The words tumbled out of her mouth, her throat tightening. Saying it out loud just emphasized how ridiculous the whole thing had been.

Jameson turned to look at her. When Avery didn’t lift her head, he grasped her chin gently, tilting it up. His green eyes searched hers, and she could see a glimmer of rage behind them. “Where was Alisa during all of this? Why didn’t she put a stop to the interview?”

Swallowing, Avery said, “She was there. And we were trying to salvage what we could of the interview, but then he said—” Avery cut herself off. She didn’t think she could bring herself to repeat what Shawn had said about her sister.

“Said what?” Jameson asked. His eyes stayed locked with hers. “Ave, what did he say?”

Avery squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn’t look him in the eyes while she said it. “He said that Libby hooked up with Nash as a way of securing my place as your grandfather’s heir.” Her voice was a whisper, like she could hardly bring herself to utter the words.

Jameson went deathly still for a moment. The silence between them was almost deafening, and if Avery didn’t know any better, she’d think that Jameson was upset with her. But she did know better, and the next moment he was pulling her tightly against his chest. Her face tucked into the crook of his neck, while his hand found the back of hers.

She forced herself to take a slow, deep breath. Jameson’s other hand rubbed against her lower back gently. “I’ve got you, Ave. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Letting herself soak up the comfort of his embrace, Avery felt her muscles relax. Something about the way Jameson held her had a way of making everything feel okay again.

Avery didn’t know for sure how long they laid there, but eventually she pulled back, running a hand down her face. Jameson tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear. “Hey, Heiress, are you okay if I leave for a bit? I’ve got something to take care of.”

While Avery couldn’t be certain what he was taking care of, she was able to make a pretty good guess. And she had a feeling it was going to have something to do with a certain interviewer. A more mature part of her might be tempted to encourage some reason, but the more vindictive part said the guy deserved what was coming his way and it wasn’t her job to save him.

The vindictive part won.

Nodding, Avery said, “That’s fine. I’m not feeling dinner tonight anyway,” gesturing at her pajamas.

Jameson, with a glint in his eye, pressed a kiss to her forehead and was out the door without another word.

✧

About a half an hour later, there was another knock at the door. Assuming it was Jameson, having returned from whatever it was he’d just done, Avery called out, “You can come in.”

It was not Jameson.

Or, rather, it wasn’t just Jameson.

All four Hawthorne brothers entered the room, and one look at Xander’s face told her that they were absolutely up to something, and she was about to get roped into it. She did not want to be roped into it.

“Avery!” Xander chirped. “Just the Heiress we were looking for.”

She rolled over, groaning. “I’m not in the mood right now, guys.”

Nash walked over to where she was sprawled out on her stomach and gave her a look that told her he didn’t really care if she was in the mood for it or not. “Tough, kiddo. You’re comin’ with us.” With that, he scooped her off the bed and tossed her over his shoulder like she weighed nothing more than a sack of potatoes.

“Nash!” Avery exclaimed, trying to struggle out of his grip, which might as well have been iron for as little progress as she made. “Put me down!”

“No can do, Heiress,” Jameson told her, standing behind Nash where she could actually see him. He winked at her, like he hadn’t arranged whatever it was that was going on.

Realizing that her options were slowly dwindling, as Nash walked them out of her bedroom door, Avery turned her head as much as she could. “Grayson? Some help here?”

Grayson raised a single blond eyebrow at her, hands tucked into the pants pockets of his suit. “You heard them. Your presence is required.”

“Required for what?” she asked, unable to tell where they were going from her position over Nash’s shoulder.

“You’ll see!” Xander said, sounding entirely more pleased than he should. “You’ll appreciate it, don’t worry!”

Avery huffed. “Really? Because right now I’m not feeling very appreciative.” She tried again to wiggle out of Nash’s grip, but to no avail.

“Relax, darlin’,” Nash told her. “Just trust us, alright?”

It wasn’t that Avery didn’t trust them, but she was wiped. And not exactly geared up for some Hawthorne shenanigans. But it was looking less and less like she was getting a choice in the matter, so she stopped trying to fight her way off of Nash’s shoulder and instead tried to figure out where they were going.

However, because she’d already missed most of the hallways they’d walked through, and could really only see the floor from her position on Nash’s shoulder, she wasn’t having much luck figuring it out.

After a few more minutes of walking, they arrived in a room Avery couldn’t recognize. The next thing she knew, she was flying through the air. She didn't get the chance to yelp before she landed in something squishy and soft. Once she was able to sit up, she narrowed her eyes at Nash.

“You threw me!”

“And you survived,” Nash drawled, no trace of remorse anywhere on his face.

Avery opened her mouth to respond, but Xander was the next thing flying toward the air, tackling her back against what seemed to be a massive mattress. “Surprise!” he exclaimed, a wide grin on his face.

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Am I supposed to know what this is?” There were a bunch of pillows and blankets piled on top of the mattress, and she must have missed when he moved, because Jameson was now settled behind her, pulling her back against his chest.

“This, Heiress, is the Hawthorne cure-all,” Jameson said, smirking. “I took the liberty of informing my brothers here about that interview this afternoon. And while revenge for that is being set into place, we agreed this was the best way to take your mind off of things.”

“Revenge?” Avery asked.

“Yes,” Grayson replied smoothly, walking over and settling beside Xander. “Shawn Palmer, age twenty-eight, formerly employed by the Forbes media company, currently blacklisted from every single media firm in the country.” His grin was sharp. “We’re still working on expanding that beyond the United States borders.”

“So, darlin’,” Nash said, kicking his feet up next to Jameson, “pick whatever movie you want. Let us take care of the rest.”

Avery’s throat tightened. She knew that the Hawthorne brothers had grown protective of her since meeting them at seventeen, but this was just a reminder of how much they had truly become her family. “Thank you,” she managed to get out, forcing the emotions that threatened to rise back down.

“Don’t thank us just yet!” Xander chirped. “The best part of revenge hasn’t even happened yet. I’ve been given permission to send a Mark Rober-certified glitter bomb to his house—disguised as a normal Amazon package that is. I was able to get his address and order history, so he shouldn’t suspect a thing!”

Despite herself, Avery laughed. All of the frustration, anger, and humiliation from earlier melted away as she shook with giggles that only Xander could pull from her. All four brothers were smiling now, and Jameson let one of his hands trace up and down her upper arm.

When she was finished, she took a deep breath. “Thank you, guys. Seriously,” she told them.

Before any of them could respond though, a voice from the doorway said, “I hope I’m not late! I brought cupcakes!”

Libby.

Avery’s head snapped up and she saw her older sister walk through the door, carrying a plate of what looked to be Libby’s famous chocolate peanut butter cupcakes. Her sister’s neon blue hair was tied up in a bun, and she gave Avery a warm smile.

“I hear there’s some reporter butt that needs kicking,” she said, passing the plate to Avery before settling down between Avery and Nash.

“Not to worry, darlin’,” Nash said fondly. “We’ve already got that taken care of.”

Avery laughed at the indignant look on her sister’s face, before taking a massive bite of cupcake. Xander, grinning wildly, did the same. “Movie time!” he exclaimed.

Grabbing a cupcake from the plate still resting in Avery’s lap, Jameson said, “So, Heiress, what’ll it be?”

She had to think for a minute. Then, she grinned. “Kill Bill. Both of them.”

Jameson grinned back at her, “As you wish.”

Grayson used the remote to get the movie set up on the screen that Avery hadn’t noticed until just then. Cupcake in hand, surrounded by family both blood and otherwise, Avery realized that this meant more than anything a stupid interviewer might have to say about her and her life.

These were the people that mattered. Everything else was just background noise.