Chapter 25
TWENTY-FIVE
Avery
I woke up to my phone buzzing like a mother fucker and imagined Jim had finally broken. That man had to be dying inside a little more each day, knowing that his lame decision to be upset with me for what his brother and Spence did to him had blown up in his own face.
Honestly, though, I was still pissed. He’d made me feel like a piece of shit. He’d let me worry that I’d damaged his reputation in the business world, and that he’d been angry at me for daring to pull a little prank on his ass.
Men could be like children at times with their stupid egos, and that included my perfect specimen of a husband. Even if I hadn’t flipped the tables on him, I’d have ended up here anyway—pissed off that he thought this was a good idea.
“Jesus!” I said, covering my mouth.
Social media was blowing the fuck up again.
I slid out of bed and headed downstairs, seeing the ladies had already beaten me to coffee on our terrace that overlooked the Pacific.
“God, Av,” Ash said. “Have you seen social media yet?”
“I just saw my husband trending again on Instagram…” I paused.
“It’s worse on TikTok,” Addy said, still in her pajamas and curled up with Nat on the lounge sofa.
I ran my hand down my face. “Addy, can you get Mom a cup of coffee?”
“I got you,” she said, jumping up to rescue me with the only thing (aside from tequila) that could fix this day.
“Look at this picture of Jim holding up his bourbon,” Laney said. “It says, He went from ‘Yes Dear’ to ‘Who Needs a Wife When You Have Whiskey’ pretty quick. #BachelorJim #FumbledTheQueen.”
“You gotta love this shit,” Nat chuckled, reading another post. “Mr. Billionaire CEO, in his ‘I messed up, and she took the kids’ era. #MitchellMeltdown #PrayForJim.”
“I can’t read any of this,” I said, chucking my phone to the side. “How the hell did the men get all over social media after playing poker at the house all night?”
“You know how,” Ash said. “Jake and Spencer were posting cryptic bro quotes like, Sometimes a man has to lose it all in order to find himself. #BoyMath #TeamAvery.”
“Jake and Spencer posted that?” I questioned.
“Not what I just read you—they just posted guys’ night pics on Instagram,” Laney said. “Nothing intentional, but since Jim blew up the internet with the damn dead trees, people are still hunting for more dirt on him.”
“Oh, my God,” Addy said, reading off her phone. “Mom, someone commented, He rescued brown trees but couldn’t save his own marriage.”
“Stop,” Nat wheezed, clutching her stomach. “This one says, Guess she finally composted him. #TreeHuggerDivorce #ReplantingSeason.”
“There’s a meme,” Ash added, scrolling. “Jim is standing at poker night, holding up his drink, and the caption says, When you save the trees but lose the forest.”
“And this,” Laney managed between laughter. “Someone wrote, He should’ve rescued his wife instead of the damn tree. #BachelorJim #MitchellMeltdown.”
I groaned and covered my face. “He’s going to murder us all by this point.”
“Oh no,” Ash said, showing me her phone. “Too late! Someone has already edited their tree video with the Titanic theme and slow zoomed in on them looking sad next to a pine. The comments are calling it ‘The Fall of Mitchell.’”
Addy gasped. “Mom! Look! TikTok just made a whole mashup—it’s the brown Christmas-tree video and poker-night clips together.”
“Oh, God.”
“It’s called From Sapling to Single,” Nat snorted. “The captions say, When you nurture the wrong branch.”
“And this one,” Ash added, trying not to choke on her coffee. “It says, She took the tree, the mansion, and the man’s sanity. #JimAndTheDeadTreeSaga.”
I buried my face in my hands. “How do people come up with this shit?”
I couldn’t help bursting into laughter at how insane this had all become. Poor Jim was at the ass-end of every viral meme and social-media joke the internet could invent.
“Hey,” Ash said cheerfully, “if Jim’s right and all press is good press, then I suppose there’s nothing to worry about.”
“The fact that Jim and I aren’t speaking, and my dumb ass wanted to prove a point by staying here overnight, is just making this all so much worse. I’d prefer he and I talk about this.”
“I think he’s probably busting everyone’s asses who were playing poker with him last night,” Nat chuckled. “Jim’s mood has got to be shot to shit right now, especially since you two haven’t been on speaking terms.”
“And he hasn’t been laid in almost a week,” I muttered.
“That’s enough to piss me off,” Nat said. She looked at Addy. “Sorry, darling, but you’re in high school, so don’t pretend to be shocked by my anecdotes.”
“Izzy’s the one,” Addy said, trying to act unbothered. “It doesn’t bother me at all,” she said, sipping coffee instead of the hot cocoa I thought she had.
I stood up, took the cup, and eyed her. “Let’s not get you trending on social media, too, young lady. You’re suddenly okay with sex talk and drinking coffee?”
“Dad lets me drink coffee all the time,” she rolled her eyes.
“Oh, yeah? Well, Dad is also trending as the billionaire who could save dead trees but couldn’t save his marriage,” I said, taking a sip. “God only knows how they’d crucify him for letting you drink coffee.”
“Please,” Nat said, “there are nine-year-olds out there drinking Starbucks mochas and lattes like they were born coffee drinkers.”
“Well, according to anything my husband does online, it’s never good—only bad.”
“That’s because he’s a CEO billionaire, honey,” Nat countered. “The internet will never praise those men, no matter what they do.”
“She’s not wrong,” Laney said, walking back out with fresh apple-cinnamon muffins. “I mean, I never would’ve imagined that someone rescuing a dead tree from a chipper could be twisted into a bad thing.”
“Until it was my husband who did it,” I said.
“I have an idea,” Ash said. “What if all of us—guys and gals—just unplugged and went to that retreat Jake and I always go to in Newport Beach?”
“Huh?” I said. “When are we going to have any time for something like that?”
My mood was edgy, to say the least. I just wanted to get this shit over with. In fact, today, I’d planned to work all this bullshit out with Jim because I wasn’t in this to make the man sick inside. It had all gotten blown out of proportion, and now? Well, now it was worse than before.
“Trust me,” Ash said. “It’s kind of like the retreat we went to last year, minus the bullshit of Jim pranking his brother and Collin.”
“Do you honestly think Jim will trust anything at this point?” Nat chuckled, taking a bite of her muffin.
“I think Jim and I should just fucking run away at this point,” I said, defeated.
“Oh, hell no, you don’t,” Nat stood. “Ash, arrange for everyone who can go to join you. It’ll be splendid, and I could use a damn massage after this past week at work. Besides, we still have these two monumental Christmas parties that Jim and the girls—and you and Cat—have arranged for all of us.”
“What do you think, Av? Nothing but relaxing, massages, and fun.”
“No pictures,” I said. “And only after Jim’s PR team puts out these newest fires. And, of course, that assuming Jim even wants to go.”
“Jim will want to go,” Laney said. “Collin told me he cried into his bourbon last night because you two weren’t speaking. Said he fucked it all up.”
“Well, thank God those pictures didn’t make it to social media,” I rolled my eyes. “Okay, Ash, are you okay taking the girls? I need to go make up with my husband.”
“Always,” Ash smiled at Addy. “John has his basketball tournament today, and Kaley and I were going to make fudge and Christmas cookies.”
“That sounds fun,” Addy smiled at Ash, then looked at me. “I’m glad you’re the one breaking first, Mom. Poor Dad.”
“I’m not necessarily breaking,” I answered her.
“You’re ending the fight, right?” she argued.
“Yes, but that doesn’t mean I’m breaking.”
“But it does mean Dad won!” she laughed, and I arched an eyebrow at her.
“Excuse me?” I questioned.
“Yeah, Izzy and I made a bet that Dad would lose the fake fight. Turns out, you’re raising the white flag first,” she taunted.
“Well, whatever,” I answered. “Honestly, I don’t care if I lose this battle. I miss Dad.”
She chuckled. “You guys are both love crazies.”
“Call us what you want,” I said, then looked at the ladies. “I’ll talk to you tonight after Jim and I are—”
“Honey, if you talk to us tonight at all after making up with Jim and enjoying that marvelous makeup sex that’s waiting for you, then Jim really is in his ‘I messed up, and she took the kids’ era!” She laughed.
“The girls can sleep over,” Ash winked.
“Thanks,” I said.
I gave Addy a kiss goodbye, left the ladies to lock up the Malibu house, and moved with purpose to get to my husband. Hopefully, we could smooth this shit over—after I kicked out every man who’d been giving Jim hell for this entire mess.
The Newport Beach relaxation retreat did sound lovely. After a week of this tense bullshit, I was the one who needed the damn masseuse.