6. Gray #2
Once dressed, I head downstairs. The house feels quiet—like it’s holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.
As I pass the library, I notice the door is open. My steps falter, and I poke my head in. The room is empty. No Avery. The blanket I’d put over her is folded neatly on the arm of the Chesterfield.
I try not to think about what happened last night as the smell of breakfast wafts through the air. My stomach growls despite the knot of guilt still lodged there.
The breakfast room is warm and the table is already laid with a fresh pot of coffee and neatly arranged dishes. I sit down, pour myself a cup, and take a cautious sip.
Shit, it's so hot it nearly burns my lips, and I let out a low hiss, setting the cup down.
My gaze drifts to the window, where the morning looks as bleak as I feel—grey skies and a misty drizzle hanging in the air.
Simple. I’ll just tell her last night was a mistake, I think, taking another careful sip of coffee. She’s a grown woman. She’ll understand.
The clink of trays breaks my train of thought, and Clara bustles in, balancing a couple of covered dishes.
“Good morning, Mr. Hayes,” she chirps, setting them down. “You look tired. Did you sleep okay?”
“NO!” The word snaps out of me before I can stop it. Clara blinks at me, clearly not expecting that level of honesty, and I grunt, waving her off. She just gives me a tight-lipped nod and disappears into the kitchen again.
Before I can enjoy the blessed silence, I hear the patter of little feet echoing down the hall. Maddie’s voice rings out, something about going on an all-ice-cream-and-candy diet. Right behind her is Avery, trying—unsuccessfully, I might add—to talk her out of it.
I plate some eggs and toast just as Maddie bursts into the room, her words running together in one long, sugar-fueled monologue. Avery follows, her hair a little messy, her cheeks flushed—and grinning like she’s just won the lottery.
She looks way too happy for this time of the morning.
Shoving a forkful of food into my mouth I glance at Maddie, “Morning, little one.” I try not to sound as tired as I feel.
Maddie, on the other hand, doesn’t even pause to acknowledge me, already launching into some new story. Avery pours herself a cup of coffee and sits down across from me, her eyes flitting to mine.
I plaster on a smile—a fake, tight thing—and immediately drop it, replacing it with a scowl. Her brows knit together, clearly confused, but she doesn’t say anything.
I don’t mean to be cruel, but what else can I do? I think once Maddie goes upstairs to get ready for school, that's when I’ll tell Avery.
Clara returns with Maddie’s breakfast, setting it down in front of her. Maddie picks at it for about three seconds before declaring, “After school, I want to get my nose pierced so I can surprise my mom when she gets home!”
I look up from my plate, barely managing to keep my fork from falling out of my hand. “Why don’t we get you a tattoo as well?”
“Gray!” Avery’s voice is sharp, but I don’t even flinch as I continue.
“For God’s sake Maddie, of course, you’re not going to get your nose pierced.”
She crosses her arms, her bottom lip jutting out. “Okay, well, then, I’m going on a hunger strike, so there!”
Avery starts to respond, but I cut her off, leaning back in my chair. “Fine. Whatever. In fact, I command you not to eat that breakfast, okay?”
Maddie’s eyes widen, completely thrown off. “Well… I will if I want to!” And she immediately starts eating, shoveling eggs into her mouth like it’s a contest.
I glance at Avery, who’s trying—and failing—not to smirk. Well, that was easy enough. I reach for my coffee and savor the warmth as the morning trudges on.
Maddie finishes her food in record time, licking a bit of syrup from her fork like it’s some delicacy.
Avery leans toward her and whispers something in her ear. Whatever it is, Maddie’s face scrunches up like she’s thinking hard about it.
Great. This can’t mean anything good.
I finish my last bite of toast, shove my knife and fork together, and push my plate away. As I sip my coffee, I feel Maddie staring at me. My first thought was, Okay… what now?
To my complete surprise, she says, “Uncle Gray?”
I lower my coffee cup and raise an eyebrow. “Yes, Maddie?”
“I don’t mean to be naughty.” Her voice is unusually soft. “I’m sorry.”
I flick my gaze to Avery, who’s trying to look innocent and failing miserably. Her smug little grin tells me exactly whose idea this was.
I sigh, set my coffee down, and get up from my seat. Walking around to Maddie, I plant a small kiss on her forehead, ruffling her hair in the process.
“I know you don’t kiddo.” I keep my tone gentle. “We’re both missing your mom, and you’ll see, she’ll be back in no time.”
Maddie looks up at me with those big, wide eyes of hers, and for a moment, I feel like maybe I didn’t completely mess that up.
Clara comes back in, clearing plates, and I step back, straightening up. “Okay, go upstairs and get yourself ready for school. And who knows—maybe if you stay a good girl, I’ll have a surprise for you when I get home from work tonight. Is that a deal?”
I extend my hand toward her. Maddie looks at it, clearly weighing her options like some mini negotiator. Finally, she shakes my hand and squints up at me. “Okay, deal. But what will the surprise be?”
I smirk. “Ah… not telling. That’s why it’s called a surprise. Now go on, get yourself ready.”
Maddie hops out of her chair, skips out of the room, and calls over her shoulder, “Okay, but it better be really good!” Clara, her arms laden with plates, follows her out, leaving just me and Avery.
Avery stands up to leave too, but I stop her. “Actually, before you go...”
She hesitates, then sits back down, glancing toward the hallway as if to check that no one’s listening. Her expression softens, and she leans forward, speaking quietly. “Oh, my God, Gray. Last night was… was…”
Before she can finish, Kat’s face flashes in my mind like a ghost I can’t escape. The guilt slams into me like a truck. “A mistake,” I cut her off, my voice maybe just a bit too sharp. “I’m sorry, Avery, but you have to know that it can’t happen again.”
The air between us turns icy. Her face shifts from shocked to horrified, emotional, and then to something else entirely—anger. She pushes back her chair so hard it scrapes against the floor, stands up, and storms out of the breakfast room without another word.
I sit for a moment, staring at the empty doorway.
Oh dear, Gray, maybe you didn’t handle that quite as well as you could have.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, snapping me out of my thoughts. I pull it out and glance at the screen. It’s Beth. Great. Just what I need.
I answer it. “Morning, Beth. What’s wrong now?”
There’s a pause, and then her voice stutters. “Oh, no. No problem. I just wanted to remind you about your 9 o’clock with the editing team and the new author, Alaric Vandermeer, concerning his novel ‘Chasing Horizons’.”
I glance at the clock on the wall. 8:17. Perfect.
“Okay. Thank you, Beth.” I end the call and sit back in my chair, already dreading the meeting. Vandermeer. Annoying. Insufferable. Arrogant. What a way to start the day.
By the time I finally make it to Pacific Crest HQ, my mood has gone from bad to worse. The traffic was unbearable, some idiot nearly sideswiped me, and now I’ve got Vandermeer to deal with.
Fantastic.
I step out of the elevator on the executive floor, the polished floors reflecting the harsh overhead lighting. The corridor stretches ahead, sterile and quiet, lined with frosted glass doors and framed prints that I’ve walked past a thousand times.
Unlocking my office door, I push it open and step inside. It’s the same as I left it—cold, pristine, and just as uninviting as ever.
I toss my briefcase down by the side of my desk and collapse into my chair. Booting up my computer, I lean back and exhale sharply.
My mind’s a mess, full of contradictions. On one hand, I know I did the right thing by talking to Avery this morning. Cutting it off now is better for both of us. No misunderstandings. No complications. It’s the logical thing to do.
And yet, bits of last night keep creeping through the cracks of my resolve. Her beauty, her body, the way everything between us felt so... natural. It wasn’t just the passion, though that was undeniable—it was the connection, raw and unfiltered—like we’d tapped into something primal.
Then Kat’s face pushes its way into my mind, slamming the door on everything else. The guilt is immediate and unrelenting. It’s like she’s watching me. I run a hand through my hair, trying to force it all away, but it clings like a shadow.
I take a deep breath, lean forward, and bring up Alaric Vandermeer’s file on my computer. The document loads slowly—because of course, the universe can’t give me even a sliver of cooperation this morning—and I scan through the details.
Chasing Horizons. A fictional romance novel, roughly 100,000 words.
The summary makes me groan internally. “A love story set against the backdrop of a global eco-tourism adventure. Think forbidden love, personal growth, and high-stakes drama.” Forbidden love and personal growth.
Wonderful. Probably littered with clichés and overdone tropes, knowing Vandermeer’s ego.
My desk buzzer goes off, sharp and intrusive. I press the button without hesitation. “Yes?”
Beth’s voice filters through, calm and professional as always. “Gray, Alaric Vandermeer is here to see you.”
Well, this should be fun.
“Would you like me to ask him to wait?” Her tone is unbothered, probably because she doesn’t have to deal with him.
“No, just send him in, and send in Samuel, Emma, and Jameson as well.”
“Okay. On it.”
“Oh, Beth,” I add, leaning back in my chair, stretching out my legs, my fingers interlaced behind my head. “Bring in five coffees as well, please.”
“Of course.”