Page 9 of Thrown

“You said it, mate, not me,” he said, before throwing the wad of used paper towels into the bin beside the sink.

He walked past Robbie, purposely bumping him with his shoulder as he headed for the door.

“I’ll have you know that, despite the title and the estate, my family has been balancing on a knife’s edge of financial ruin for generations now,” Robbie defended himself and all of the Hawthornes as he chased after Tillman. “Look around you. Does this look like the sort of posh estate that the king would visit to take tea? We live day-to-day just like any other working-class family.”

They’d stepped out into the hallway, which was bustling with people trying to leave or get to classes. That didn’t stop Tillman from whipping back to face Robbie with a whole new level of ire in his eyes.

“You’re trying to tell me that you lot arepoor?” he asked in a tight whisper, eyeing some of the people who walked past with wariness in their eyes.

“Yes,” Robbie said, half laughing. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you.”

“Bullshit,” Tillman said. Robbie had the feeling he wanted to use much harsher language. He leaned in closer, so no one passing would overhear them, and went on with, “The differencebetween you and me is that you’ve got a major corporation offering you more money than I can even conceive of. You think you’re poor, but with the snap of your manicured fingers, that could all go away and you’d be millionaires. Me?” He stepped back and threw his arms wide. “No one’s coming to save me, mate. If I want to be saved, I have to save myself.”

Robbie’s jaw dropped, but he wasn’t certain how to reply to that.

Any kind or sympathetic reply he might have given died on his lips as Tillman showed him his middle finger before turning and marching off toward the front hallway, his finger still in the air as he showed Robbie his back.

Robbie clenched his jaw and was about to go after Tillman when his phone buzzed in his back pocket. Huffing with frustration, he drew it out.

In an instant, his mood snapped from furious to expectant. The name on the incoming call was that of the producer he’d spoken to about the possibility of appearing as a special judge on The Ceramics Challenge television show.

“Hello?” he answered the call.

“Mr. Hawthorne, hello. It’s Harry Klein from The Ceramics Challenge.”

“Hi. Mr. Klein. It’s nice to hear from you,” Robbie said, fumbling his way through the call already, and it had barely begun.

“Harry, please,” Harry said. “Look, I know you’re a busy man, so I’ll cut right to the chase. We’d love to have you come in as a guest judge for this current season.”

“Thiscurrentseason?” Robbie blinked stepping to the side to avoid the between-class traffic in the hallway.

“I know we had discussed next season,” Harry said, “but we’ve had a judge who had to drop out at the last minute. Would you be available in next week?”

“Next week?” Robbie shoved a hand into his hair, excitement pulsing through him. “I might have to shuffle a few things around, but I could make next week work,” he said.

Appearing on a nationally broadcast competition show had the potential to do amazing things for his career. And if his career soared, it would be excellent publicity for Hawthorne House and the rest of the family.

“Good,” Harry said. Robbie could hear the smile in the man’s voice and considered it a good sign. “I’ll contact you with details as soon as we get them worked out. Do you have an agent I should be dealing with?”

He didn’t, not really, but Rebecca tended to handle that sort of thing for everyone in the family. “It’s best to speak to my sister, Rebecca,” he said. “I’ll send her your contact information.”

“Good, excellent,” Harry said. “It will be great to have you on board.”

They exchanged a few more pleasantries, then ended the call.

Robbie took a few moments to let it all sink in, and to breathe. Then he pushed himself forward. He needed to find Rebecca and let her know Harry would be calling. He also needed to find his dad to let him know what was coming. And it wouldn’t hurt if he found Tillman so he could rub it in as well.

He found all of them much sooner than he thought he would. As he stepped into the front hallway, his dad, Rebecca, Early, and Tillman were standing near the center of the once-dazzling foyer. With them was another man in a suit not all that different from Tillman’s. He was in his fifties at least, though, and stood with an air of authority.

That wasn’t what snagged Robbie’s insides and made him suddenly hotter. No, what did that, pushing every one of Robbie’s buttons, was the way Tillman smiled at the older man and beamed at him as if he were God.

Not jealous. Robbie absolutely wasn’t jealous. But he sure as hell was going to find out what was going on.

FOUR

How dare Robert Hawthorne,Jr. even hint that he was a victim of the world? Toby could hardly see straight as he marched away from the cunt, middle finger held high in the air. That was the problem with these people who had been born with more privilege than they even knew. If one day passed where they couldn’t afford their expensive, French, bottled water, they acted like they were street urchins that the system had let down.

Well, Tobywasan urchin who the system had let down, and he knew good and well that on any given day in his childhood, he might just have ended up on the street. He was proud of everything he’d done to lift himself out of all that, proud of where he was headed in life, and if the likes of Robert Hawthorne fucking Junior didn’t think he was?—

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