Page 46 of The Fear of Falling
That catches me off guard, and I frown. “A guardian what?”
“You heard me.”
I have no idea what a guardian moose is, but I’m going to guess I should be wary. “I’m not going to do anything to hurt Avery.”
“Better not,” is all she says before she waves goodbye to Lynda and disappears out the door.
Lynda pokes her head around the corner and smirks. “Sounds like you’ve gotten yourself on the wrong side of the Hayes family’s favor.”
Chuckling, I put my hands in my pockets and join her in the lobby so I don’t accidentally overhear anything from Eric and Avery’s conversation. He’d better be telling her about the conference, though I worry about how she’s going to react. “Seems to be my usual MO,” I say and lean against her desk. “You know families and I don’t get along.”
She swats my arm. “What do you call me?”
“My saving grace.” I pick up her hand and press a kiss to her knuckles. I mean that. Lynda taking me in during holidays is one of the big reasons I didn’t quit college halfway through, particularly because she invited me over all the time during the summers too, when guilt brought me back home to live with my own family between school years. “Heaven knows why you put up with me as much as you did.”
Tutting, she pats my cheek. “Benson, you are a much better man than you think you are. You were then, and you are now.”
“You’re making me blush, Mrs. Greer.” All jokes aside, I feel her praise in my bones, and my regret for coming here isn’t as strong as it was a moment ago. “But thanks, Lynda.”
She grins. “So what have you done to get on Sadie’s watch list?”
I’m about to answer when Eric’s door flies open, followed shortly by Avery’s slamming shut. I curse under my breath—she didn’t take the news well—but I don’t get a chance to fill Lynda in before Eric is storming toward us, his suit coat and briefcase in hand.
“I need to go pack,” he says without looking at either of us.
Then he’s gone.
“Oh dear,” Lynda says and touches her fingers to her lips. “That clearly didn’t go how he hoped. I’m guessing he told her about the conference?”
I raise an eyebrow. “Are there no secrets kept from you?”
Shrugging, she settles at her desk and starts clicking out of her open windows. Whether she’s leaving because it’s the end of the day or because she plans to follow Eric, she’s going to leave me here with Avery.AngryAvery, which is someone I haven’t met. “This office is small,” she says, as if that explains everything. “He’s also my son.”
And a mama’s boy, I don’t say out loud. He always has been. He probably told her he was going to the conference the minute he booked the ticket.
I rub the back of my neck and consider following her lead and sneaking out, except my laptop is in Avery’s office and I need it for a video call with a potential client tonight. “Is she going to be okay?”
Sighing, Lynda pats my cheek again. “She’ll be fine. She’s stronger than she thinks she is, and it will be for the best if she stays here.”
“Will it?” My eyes travel to the hall, though I can’t see Avery’s door from here. With her angry reaction, I’m more convinced than ever she would have loved to go to that conference, and if she stays here…
That means she’s staying here with me.
“I need to run. Will you check on her once she’s had some time to process?” Lynda pats my cheek a third time, grabs her purse, and slips out the door before I can formulate a response.
Not that I could say anything but yes.
I give Avery five minutes of privacy, during which I pace the hallway and search the internet for how to console an angry woman. I don’t learn much at all, as most of the advice people have given is to run far away and let her cool down before approaching. I’m not the only one who finds an angry woman intimidating. It’s suddenly painfully obvious that I have almost never had to deal with heightened emotions, as most of my life is spent charming people and keeping them happy.
When I can’t keep myself away any longer, I knock softly on Avery’s door. She doesn’t respond, so I say, “It’s me. Want to talk?”
Her door flies open a moment later, and I take a step back when I see her wild eyes. She hasn’t been crying, like I thought maybe she would be, and there’s nothing but righteous fury in her expression. “Did you know?” she demands, hand still on the door like she’s ready to shut it on me as soon as I respond.
It’s a bad idea to assume I know what she’s talking about, but I do it regardless. “He told me right before he told you.”
She softens at that, a bit of hurt entering her gaze. “It’s sold out. I tried to buy a ticket, but…”
Part of me wants to tell her to go anyway and try to get in under Eric’s name before he can show up, since he would have registered it under Rose & Quill. But that’s the Benson who was in Italy, not the one who is here to make sure R&Q thrives. “I’m sure Eric will share any notes he takes,” I say lamely, wincing when her gaze turns sharp again.
