The Hawthornes Family Dinner
Country: Aurivelle
City: Auremont
Alvara
By six-thirty, my bedroom no longer looked like a bedroom.
It looked like a fashion warzone.
Dresses across the bed.
Shoes abandoned on the floor.
Jewelry boxes open.
Fabric everywhere.
And Isabella in the middle of it all behaving like an overpaid creative director with no supervision
She had been talking for hours.
She had opinions about everything.
The gown which had taken forty minutes to settle on and had involved three rejected options, one near argument, and Isabella standing back and looking at me with the particular expression of an artist assessing a canvas.
"The burgundy," she had finally said.
"That's what I said an hour ago," I said.
"You said it without conviction," she said. "I'm saying it with certainty. There's a difference."
I had not argued.
Because she was right.
The deep burgundy off shoulder gown.
Floor length.
Fitted through the body.
She had done my makeup next.
With the focused intensity of someone who took this seriously.
"Stop moving," she said.
"I'm not moving," I said.
"Your face is moving," she said.
"My face is my face," I said.
"Your face is my canvas right now," she said. "Hold still."
I held still.
She worked.
The foundation is flawless and warm.
The eye is precise, defined, a deep liner that makes everything sharper.
The lashes are full but not excessive.
And the red lip.
Always last.
She applied it with the concentration of someone performing surgery.
She stepped back.
Then she looked at me.
Then sat back down immediately.
"I have outdone myself," she said.
"You say that every time," I said.
"And every time I am correct," she said.
She moved to my hair next.
A sleek low chignon more elaborate than my usual French twist.
Small gold pins.
The deep red teardrop earrings.
The diamond bezel watch.
And my customized "Starling" necklace resting at my collarbone.
I stood in front of the mirror.
Isabella stood behind me.
We looked at my reflection together.
The makeup was soft but striking.
The gown fit perfectly.
Isabella blinked slowly.
"Oh, Grayson is finished," she said quietly.
I laughed softly.
"I'm serious," she said, still staring at my reflection. "Alvara, you look..." She paused like she genuinely could not find the correct word. "Dangerously beautiful."
I looked back at the mirror.
At the woman standing there.
Not the girl from Eldoria.
Not the frightened version of myself that once believed survival was the highest thing she deserved.
This woman looked composed.
Wanted.
Loved.
Isabella touched my shoulder lightly.
"He is going to look at you tonight," she said, "and forget every intelligent thought he has ever had."
We headed downstairs together.
Voices drifted from the sitting room .
Leo laughed.
Mom said something.
Grayson sitting beside my mom.
With Leo in the armchair across from them.
All three of them in conversation.
I stopped on the stairs.
He had not told me he was here.
He looked up at the sound of our footsteps.
And stopped speaking mid-sentence.
His eyes found me.
And stayed.
Not moving to anything else.
Just ...me.
I came down the remaining stairs.
I walked toward him.
He stood.
Like he always did.
But slower this time.
Like he needed the extra second.
He looked at me.
From the gown to the necklace to my face.
Then back to my face.
"Alvara," he said.
His voice was lower than usual.
"You didn't tell me you were here," I said.
"I wanted to see you come down the stairs," he said.
I looked at him.
" You're beautiful," he said immediately.
"There is no one more beautiful than you," he said.
"No," he said quietly, still looking at me. "I need you to understand that I've never seen anyone look like this before."
Isabella clutched her chest dramatically.
"Thank you," she said emotionally. "As the artist behind this masterpiece, I feel appreciated.
Leo looked at her.
"My sister has always been beautiful."
Isabella gasped.
"Excuse me?"
"With or without whatever you attacked her face with."
My mother laughed softly.
Isabella pointed at Leo immediately.
"You uncultured little boy."
"She's been beautiful her whole life," Leo said again.
"I didn't say she wasn't," she said.
"You're taking credit for something that was already there," Leo said.
"I enhanced what was already there," she said. "There's a difference."
"There's really not," Leo said.
"There absolutely is," she said.
"Name one thing you did that wasn't already..."
"The liner," she said immediately.
"What about it?" he said.
"The precision of it," she said.
"Her eyes were already..."
"Do you have any idea how long that took?"
"Her eyes are naturally...."
"The wing," she said. "The wing alone took..."
"She has good eyes naturally..."
"EVERYONE has good eyes naturally..."
"She has EXCEPTIONAL eyes naturally..."
Mom was laughing so hard.
Grayson was looking between the two of them with a delighted expression.
"Children," Mom said pleasantly.
Both of them stopped and looked at her.
"She looks beautiful," Mom said. "Both of you are right."
Leo pointed at Isabella.
"She said naturally first," he said.
"I said enhanced," Isabella said.
"She was already..."
"Leo," I said.
He closed his mouth.
I looked at him.
He looked at me.
His expression shifted.
"You really do look beautiful," he said.
Genuinely.
Without teasing.
"Thank you," I said.
He nodded.
Once.
And looked at his phone.
The Leo version of having said something important and needing to immediately do something else.
Grayson helped me with my coat at the door.
His hands at my shoulders briefly.
Mom stood in the sitting room doorway.
Leo behind her.
Isabella beside them.
"Go well," Mom said.
"We will," I said.
"Don't be home too late," Leo said.
"I'm a grown woman," I said.
"That's not an answer," he said.
Grayson looked at him.
"I'll bring her home at a reasonable hour," he said.
Isabella appeared at my side at the door.
She hugged me briefly.
Then put her lips near my ear.
"If Dominic Hawthorne says anything intimidating," she whispered, "look at Grayson and remember he chose you."
I pulled back and looked at her.
"And if Mrs. Hawthorne cries..." she continued.
"Why would she cry"?
"Women like her cry at beautiful things," Isabella said. "You are a beautiful thing." She squeezed my arm. "Go."
Then she stepped back.
Everyone followed us out.
Grayson opened the car door for me.
Behind me I heard Leo say to Isabella ...
"The liner wasn't necessary."
"Oh my God I ...."
Their voices faded as the car door closed.
Grayson looked at me.
" Are you ready?" he asked.
" Yes" I said and he drove off.
I had known the Hawthornes were wealthy.
I had been inside the Hawthorne headquarters.
But this was different.
The estate opened up beyond the gates.
The driveway stretched ahead.
Lined with mature trees their winter branches lit from below.
The grounds are expansive on both sides.
And at the end of the driveway .
The house.
Not a house.
An estate.
Stone. Four floors. Wings extending on both sides. Every window lit.
The kind of building that had been here for generations and intended to be here for several more.
"This is where you grew up,? " I asked.
"Yes," he said.
A boy growing up in this.
Learning to be certain in rooms that communicated power before anyone spoke.
No wonder he moved the way he moved.
No wonder rooms adjusted when he entered them.
He had been shaped by a house that announced itself before you arrived.
The car stopped at the entrance.
Staff appeared.
Grayson got out.
Came around.
Opened my door and extended his hand.
I took it.
Stepped out.
I looked at the front of the house properly.
At the stone.
The height of it.
The quiet authority of every detail.
I looked at him.
And we walked in.
The entrance hall was twice the size of my atelier's boutique floor.
Dark wood.
High ceilings.
Art that had been collected over generations.
Staff moved efficiently in the background.
"Grayson."?
Mrs. Hawthorne appeared from the adjoining sitting room.
Then stopped completely when she saw me.
Real surprise crossed her face.
"Alvara."
I looked at Grayson slowly.
"You didn't tell her?"
"I may have omitted details."
Mrs. Hawthorne immediately walked toward me smiling.
"Oh, sweetheart."
Before I could fully react, she pulled me into a hug.
Warm.
Genuine.
"I'm so happy you're here."
I blinked slightly.
Then hugged her back.
" Come" she said, disengaging from the hug.
"Everyone is at dinner."
The dining room was everything the rest of the house was.
Long table.
Crystal and silver .
Dominic Hawthorne at the head.
Julian by the side.
Introductions followed quickly.
Warmly.
Too warm.
I was beginning to suspect this family had privately adopted me already.
Dinner was extraordinary.
Between the main course and dessert .
Grayson set his fork down.
Looked at his parents.
"I want to tell you something," he said.
"Alvara and I are dating," he said.
I nearly dropped my fork.
Every head turned toward him.
Including mine.
Mrs Hawthorne gasped happily.
"Oh finally."
"Do you know how long I've waited for this?" She added.
"Mother," Grayson said.
"No, let me enjoy this."
She turned to me.
"You absolutely have my blessing. Since day one."
I blinked.
"Day one "?
"Of course," she said.
I looked at Grayson slowly.
"Your family discusses me behind my back."?
"Frequently," Julian confirmed calmly.
Julian looked at Grayson.
" I knew it when you started sending her white roses everyday, " Julian said.
"You knew nothing," Grayson said.
"I knew everything," Julian said cheerfully. "You brought her white roses and told nobody and thought nobody noticed."
"Nobody was supposed to notice," Grayson said.
"I noticed," Julian said. "Vivienne noticed. Mother noticed."
"I noticed from the showcase," Mrs. Hawthorne said pleasantly.
"The way he looked at her on that stage," Mrs. Hawthorne said simply. "I called him the next morning."
"You called me about the competition results," Grayson said.
"I called about both," she said.
Mr Dominic set his glass down.
He looked at his son.
Then at me.
"You have built something significant between two companies," he said. "In under a year."
"Yes," I said.
He nodded.
"My son has run this empire without complaint for years," he said. "He has never once asked for anything for himself."
He looked at Grayson briefly.
Grayson said nothing.
"But a man should also have something for himself," Mr. Hawthorne continued calmly.
"Someone for himself."
"You are hardworking," he said to me directly. "Intelligent. Disciplined. You understand ambition the same way he does."
"You suit each other."
"And if he has finally found someone capable of making him happy beyond business," he said calmly, "then you both have my blessing."Then he looked back at me. "You have my blessing."
I looked at Grayson.
Because somehow he seemed calmer than everyone else despite being the one who had casually changed the atmosphere at the table.
Julian leaned back in his chair dramatically.
"I genuinely never thought I'd live long enough to see Grayson Hawthorne discussing romance at the dining table."
"I discuss many things at the dining table," Grayson said calmly.
"No," Julian replied immediately. "You discuss quarterly projections and economic instability."
Mrs. Hawthorne sighed dreamily.
"And now he discusses a beautiful woman that is growth".
After dinner Grayson stood.
"We should be going," he said.
"You can go, Alvara's staying, " Mrs. Hawthorne said pleasantly.
Grayson stared at her.
Julian started laughing instantly.
"Mother."
"She's staying."
"We have plans tomorrow."
" You can survive one evening away from her"
"I disagree."
Mrs. Hawthorne ignored him completely and looked at me.
"You'll stay, won't you sweetheart?"
I looked between both of them.
Then I smiled slowly.
"I'd love to."
Grayson turned toward me slowly.
Traitorously slowly.
I almost laughed.
Mrs. Hawthorne looked victorious.
"The guest room will be prepared," she said.
"Mother," Grayson said.
"You have your apartment," she said. "I have a daughter in love who I would like to have breakfast with tomorrow."
"She has an atelier to get to before..."
"Not before breakfast," Mrs. Hawthorne said.
Mrs. Hawthorne stood.
"Come," she said to me. "I'll show you to the room."
She took my arm.
Began walking me out of the dining room.
I looked back at Grayson over my shoulder.
He was standing at the head of the table.
Looking at the two of us.
With the expression of a man who had just lost something he hadn't expected to lose.
Like he was completely outmanoeuvred.
By his mother.
And by me.
"This is the best dinner we've ever had." Julian said.