Page 37 of The Hawthorne Legacy
There was a brief silence on the other end of the line. “And so we wait.”
There was a heaviness in Jameson’s tone. The fact that he’d let me hear it was shocking.
“Don’t worry, Heiress.” Jameson fell back into banter. “I will prevail on the Drink or Dare front if we have to wait around much longer.”
When I hung up the phone, Max practically pounced on me. “What did he say?”
“So the boys you want to fax took your private jet to Arizona in hopes that the mystery father of one of said boys knows something about a tragic and deadly fire, lo these many years ago.”
“That about covers it,” I told Max. “Except I don’t want to fax anyone.”
“Only in your mind and only with your eyes,” Max said solemnly.
“Max!” I said, and then I turned the tables on her. “You want to tell me what you’re doing here? We both know you’re not okay.”
Max looked up at the twenty-foot ceiling. “Maybe I’m not. But I am standing in the middle of a bowling alley in your house. This place is unbelievable!”
If she wanted a distraction, she’d come to the right place.
“Now, is there anything else about the Bonkers Life of Billionaire Avery that you left out?”
I knew better than to press her if she didn’t want to talk. “There is one more thing,” I said. “Remember Emily?”
“Died and left a thousand broken pieces in her wake?” Max said immediately. “Loss reverberates through all the players in her tragedy to this day? Yes, I remember Emily.”
“Tonight, I’m going to a fundraiser in her honor.”
CHAPTER 31
Where are you with developing your talking points and your theme?” Landon asked. Apparently, she had no qualms whatsoever about quizzing me while my face was being contoured and my hair aggressively moussed.
“You have a theme?” Max piped up beside me. “Is it smash the patriarchy? I hope it’s smash the patriarchy.”
“I like it,” I told Max. “Why don’t you come up with some talking points?”
“Hold still.” Firm hands grabbed my chin.
Landon cleared her throat. “I don’t think that would be prudent,” she told me, glancing delicately at Max.
“Patriarchy smashing is always prudent,” Max assured her.
“Look up,” the makeup artist commanded. “I’m going to get started on your eyes.”
That sounded way more ominous than it should have. Doing my best not to blink, I gritted my teeth. “Why don’t you just save us all a lot of time and effort and tell me what you want me to say?” I asked Landon.
“We need to communicate that you are relatable, grateful for the tremendous opportunity you’ve been given, on good terms with the Hawthorne family, and exceedingly unlikely to throw multiple billion-dollar industries into chaos.” She let a second pass, then continued. “But how you communicate those things is up to you. If I write the script, it will sound like a script, so you need to do the work here, Avery. What can you authentically say about this whole experience?”
I thought about Hawthorne House, about the boys who lived here, about the secrets built into the very walls. “It’s incredible.”
“Good,” Landon replied. “And?”
My throat tightened. “I wish my mom were here.”
I wished that she could see me. I wished that I’d had money—any money—when she’d gotten sick. I wished that I could ask her about Toby Hawthorne.
“You’re on the right track,” Landon told me. “Truly. But for the time being, it would be best to avoid bringing up your mother.”
If I’d been able to, I would have stared at her, but instead, my chin was tilted roughly back, and I found myself staring at the ceiling.
