by Nikki Chase
“Pretty cool, huh?” I take a seat beside Ava and watch as she turns the newspaper around, like she can’t even decide which angle to read it from.
“Are you kidding? It feels so crazy to actually see it printed in an actual newspaper,” Ava says. “I mean, I’ve been watching the articles online about the case, but it still feels different to hold a newspaper with that piece of news in it.”
“Right?” I knew she’d get it. “That’s why I still buy newspapers. I like to frame the stories I push to the media.”
“Ooh, can we frame this one, too?” Ava asks.
“Of course. That’s what I was planning to do with it anyway.”
“Do you think they’re going to look into Ava’s personal life?” Liam asks. Party pooper.
“I don’t think they will,” I say. “On this kind of straightforward, non-controversial story, most people just read it and move on, without wanting to know more details about the people involved.”
“Noah?” Liam shifts his gaze to my slightly-more-sensible twin brother.
“I agree,” Noah says.
“Ouch. You don’t believe me?” I ask as I clutch my chest and feign pain.
Ava giggles and wraps her arms around me. “I’m sure he’s just trying to be 100% sure. Not everyone is as comfortable with risk as you are.”
I’ve been called “reckless” and “cocky” and a lot of other things before, but no one’s ever put it quite as nicely as Ava just did.
“Not really. I just don’t trust you, man,” Liam says jokingly.
“Seriously, though, this has gone far better than I expected,” Mason says.
“Wow. Thanks for having so much faith in Noah and me, guys,” I say, prompting another fit of giggles from Ava.
She’s happier and more affectionate lately. Oh, and she’s eating more of my food, too. I don’t know if that means I’m better at cooking or she has better appetite these days, but I’m okay with either possibility.
Ava’s mom’s been calling and texting her. But so far, Ava’s been ignoring her rude text messages and voicemails. Ava says she’ll consider talking to her mom again when she understands that Ava’s an adult who can make her own decisions.
Ava’s mom is missing out on a lot. Ava’s been making a lot of big life decisions. She says having us around helps her realize what’s important, making it easy to figure out which direction to go.
I’m glad she feels that way. All I want to do in life is make her happy, so it’s incredibly rewarding to see her smiling and giggling like she is now, knowing I’ve contributed to her joy.
But Ava’s helped us a ton, too.
It turns out she has a natural talent for communication and languages. In our line of business, skills like hers can really come in handy.
Ava’s been helping Mason deal with some of his more difficult partners and clients. Noah and I have been talking about letting Ava handle our finicky high-net-worth customers, too.
We still haven’t brought this up with Ava. We’re trying to be careful and take things slow because this change could potentially muddy some waters.
We don’t want Ava to think of us as her employers. If she’s joining us, it’s going to be as a full partner. We’re going to have a legal document drawn up—Liam’s already working on it because we want to be ready with an offer for Ava to sign when we talk to her about it.
Whatever happens, it seems like Ava’s ready for a big change. She knows she’s definitely going to get a termination letter from the school soon, but she doesn’t look worried. Instead, she’s excited about other careers she could explore.
And we’re excited about inviting her to explore those options within our ever-expanding business.
Mason
Ah, I fucking love running my own business.
Have I already said that? I probably have. It’s a recurring thought in my head.
I love getting to set my own hours, and I love not having to account for my work to anyone but my own brothers.
If it weren’t for Hunter Meditour, I wouldn’t be able to spend two fucking months here in Ashbourne.
Maybe I still would've met Ava and we still might’ve fallen in love, but who knows?
One thing is certain; I definitely wouldn’t be able to do this, if it weren't for our business.
I creep in the dark behind the big dumpster. Looks like it used to be blue, underneath all the rust and stains that have collected on its surface. Luckily, it’s for cardboards so it doesn’t stink.
But I would’ve braved through the smelliest thing for this, for Ava.
Well, maybe I’m doing this for myself, too—but I only want to do it because I fucking love Ava so much, and I can’t stand the idea of some asshole just walking away $10,000 richer after treating her like shit.
That douchebag should be walking out the back door of the seedy strip club soon. His smoking habit’s not only poisoning his body, but also making him predictable—a terrible thing for an asshole like him, who must have a bunch of people wanting to do what I’m about to do to him.
I zip up my leather jacket and flip the hoodie up, too. This should be enough to hide my identity from him.
It’s not unthinkable that an infamous asshole like him would have enemies. Maybe he bumped into some tough guy inside the club, or maybe he looked at some other guy wrong. There are many unfortunate things that can befall a lone creep at a strip club.
Besides, does he really want to draw more attention to himself, now that he’s the joke of the town?
Yesterday, I overheard a group of teenagers walking past and saying, “Move on, man. You’re making me worried you’re going to pull a Joseph.” I grinned as the other kid said, simply, “Ew.”
A beating may gain Joseph some sympathy, but not when he’s behind a seedy strip joint. He probably doesn’t want that in the papers, too.
The twins’ plan was simple and elegant. And it worked like a charm.
It’s not good enough for me, though. I don’t care about effectiveness or elegance. All I know is my fist itches, and there’s only one face in the world that’ll successfully scratch it: Joseph’s.
So this is a matter between my fist and his face. That’s why none of my brothers or Ava know about it. I don’t need them trying to stop me.
I jump up, my muscles uncoiling, as the backdoor of the strip joint creaks open. It’s as rusty as the dumpster and probably just as gross.
Joseph may be making decent money as a lawyer, but he can’t go to a classier joint because there's none in these parts.
I bet he’s dying to leave town, especially now that everybody knows what he’s done. Maybe he thinks he can start over somewhere new.
But there’s no escape for him because who’s going to hire the psycho? What law firm isn’t going to worry he’ll sue them over something insane, too?
Joseph can try to change his name, of course. It would be a huge hassle, and it still may not fix his problems.
I hold my breath as the guy approaches a patch of asphalt that’s well-lit by the yellow street lights.
It is Joseph.
I walk up to him, grab him by the shoulder, and hit him in the face—twice.
I observe him as he tumbles backward, shock and fear in his eyes. Falling down to his ass on the ground, he wipes the blood on his face with the back of his hand.
Then, before he sees my face, I walk away.
“Hey!” Joseph yells from behind me.
Come up here and fight me if you want, asshole. I’m raring for a fight here.
But, of course, he does nothing. All talk and nothing to back it up.
Figures. He’s only a big bad bully to those weaker than him because he needs to hide what a fucking weak little bitch he really is inside.
“Seems like you and Sally were discussing something important,” Ava says when she joins me in my office.
We’ve been in Ashbourne for a little over a month, and we’ve just decided to rent a little office space for t
he business temporarily because we were cluttering up Ava’s place with our laptops and documents.
It’s nice to be able to spread out. This place is just the right size for the seven of us—Ava, me and my brothers, and Sally.
Ava doesn’t go to work at the high school anymore now. They fired her, those idiots.
But whatever. It’s their loss because Ava’s turning out to be quite an important asset to our business. And, of course, I love having her here, and so do my brothers.
The only problem with having Ava work with us in an office? Sally.
Not that Sally is hostile toward Ava, or the other way around. They’re perfectly civil and professional to each other. They work well together, actually.
But even though Ava said they were friends, she seems to keep Sally at arm’s length, and sometimes I get the feeling she does that out of jealousy.
Like right now, for example.
“Of course,” I say. “I wouldn’t have asked Sally to see me here if it wasn’t important.”
“Right.” Ava puts a folder on my desk and takes a seat across from me.
“Are you jealous, beautiful?” I tease her.
“Not at all.” Ava smiles, although I can see the speck of turmoil in her otherwise-serene eyes.
I know Ava feels uneasy about Sally, but she has no reason to worry.
I don’t blame her, though, because even my brothers think Sally’s got a crush on me. But they can’t be more wrong. I’ve just never felt the need to correct them, especially when it’s not my secret to reveal, but Sally’s.
If Ava’s going to continue working here—and I hope she will—we need to straighten things out. That’s why I had a long talk with Sally. As awkward as it was, I needed her permission to tell Ava the truth.
“Other than Sally, do you like everything else about working here?” I ask.
“I do like Sally,” Ava insists. “We’ve known each other for ages. We went to the same high school, and we met up for drinks. We’re friends.”
“Okay.” I flash Ava a smile. “Do you like working here?”
“Yes,” she says quickly. “I like everything about it—including Sally.”
“Ava, I’ve got your contract right here. Just like we discussed, Liam’s drafted your document so you get the same clearance and authority level as any one of us. That means you get to make executive-level decisions.”
“I still don’t think I deserve that kind of power right out of the gate,” Ava says, looking nervous.
“And I hope you won’t use it for at least one year, until you get used to all aspects of the business and understand how one little decision can affect the different parts of the system. But it’s written right there in black and white so you can sign stuff and whatever in the future.”
“Yeah.” She nods as her fingertips land on the thin stack of paper. She pulls it toward her, sliding it over the smooth surface of the desk.
“And before you sign that, I want to say something about Sally.”
“Mason, really, there’s no need.” Holding a pen, Ava’s hand hovers over the contract. “She’s just your assistant and I don’t really have any reason to be jealous. Whenever you communicate with her, it’s always about work. I feel silly for feeling this way.”
“You can’t help the way you feel.” I lean forward in my chair and clasp my hands on the desk in front of me. “Listen, I’ve never told any of my brothers this, so I hope you’ll keep this a secret.”
“What is it?” Ava stares at me, her eyes dulled with worry.
“Don’t worry. Nothing bad’s happened,” I say. “The only reason I’ve never told them is because they don’t need to know. But you do. And Sally agrees.”
“Wait a minute; you told Sally you were going to tell me whatever you’re about to tell me?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay. Sounds serious.” Ava frowns as she tilts her head in the most adorable way.
“Well . . . it depends. I don’t think so, but other people may not agree.” I chuckle. “I think I’m just making it more complicated than it has to be, so I’m just going to say it. Here it is: Sally’s not into guys. She likes girls instead.”
“She’s a lesbian?” Ava’s doe eyes widen.
“Yeah.”
“Wow. I never would’ve guessed,” Ava says. “I remember she had a crush on Daniel Hewitt in high school.”
“I have no idea about that. All I know is when she works late, sometimes her girlfriend picks her up, and they seem like a happy couple,” I say.
“Thank you for telling me that,” Ava says, full of appreciation. “I should thank Sally too for letting you tell me. Oh god, Sally was probably just pretending to like some guy back then, huh? Ashbourne’s not the most progressive town in the country.”
“It’s not. That’s why, as far as I know, she’s not completely ‘out’ yet, although her friends in the city seem to know.”
“Thanks, Mason,” Ava says, relief filling her eyes as she visibly relaxes. “I really appreciate you caring enough to tell me.”
“Anything for you, beautiful.” I watch as her hand lands on the contract, poised to sign. “You realize signing this contract means you’re going to move away from Ashbourne, right?”
“There’s nothing I want more.” Ava signs the contract and gives me a sweet smile.
Later tonight, we’ll celebrate with a dinner somewhere nice and probably end the night lying in a dirty, sweaty heap at home.
Life is sweet, and not just because I’m running a successful business with my brothers . . . but also because I share my life with the most perfect woman I’ve ever met.
Liam
Thanksgiving Dinner
“I’m glad you like it, Ava,” my mom says, beaming with pleasure after hearing Ava’s comments about how juicy and tender the turkey is. “Well, let me clean up, and we’ll get back to our conversation after that.”
“Oh, let me help you with that.” Ava starts to get up from her chair, but Mom puts her hands on Ava’s shoulders and stops her.
“No, I won’t allow that. You’re a guest, so you should just sit back and enjoy yourself.” Mom stacks up some plates, filling the dining room with loud clanging before she disappears into the kitchen.
My brothers and I would help, but we know she doesn’t need it. Even when we were all still living under one roof, my parents always did their food prep and clean-up together.
Predictably, my dad gets up from his chair. “I’ll just, uh, help my ex-wife with the dishes in the kitchen,” he says, winking.
We’ve always suspected that my parents are up to dirty, dirty things when they linger in the kitchen for too long, but none of us wants to be the one to confirm that.
Ava giggles, probably more out of politeness than anything else.
Introducing each other as an ex is a thing my parents do when they meet new people. Admittedly, it’s a great schtick and always gets a laugh or two, but they always overuse it—like, probably twenty times over the course of this Thanksgiving dinner.
“I think they like you,” Ollie says to Ava, taking her hand.
“You think so?” Ava asks nervously. She’s still giving her family the cold shoulder because they’ve repeatedly refused to show her the respect she needs, so we’re the only family she has now.
“I know so. Dad was trying too hard to be funny for him not to like you,” Nathan says.
Ava smiles. Poor thing, she’s been nervous all week, picking which dress to wear and what kind of wine to bring to this Thanksgiving dinner.
It’s the usual private, quiet affair—or as quiet as it can be with six grown men fighting over the food—but it’s more special this year because Ava’s here.
And I want every year from now on to be just as special.
Ava signing the employment contract gives me some peace of mind because it lets me know she intends to stay. Someone more cynical than me may suspect her of just wanting job security, but I don’t think Ava’s cap
able of that kind of deception.
If this were a normal relationship, I’d be shopping for a ring already.
But who’s going to officiate a wedding between five men—who are also brothers, by the way—and one woman? Last time I checked, poly marriages were still illegal.
Which is why what we’re proposing now is probably our best option.
I look around the table at my brothers. Their eyes tell me they’re ready for this talk.
“Ava, I know we’ve talked about what to do once you get to the city, and I think it’s time to discuss something a little more long-term,” I say.
“Yeah,” Nathan says. “You can’t just keep staying with Mason, just because he’s the most wasteful idiot here and he’s got a loft that’s too big for himself.”
“You’re just jelly.” Mason grins. He’s been annoyingly smug since we all agreed that his apartment is perfect for Ava, at least temporarily.
“Of course, I can’t just keep staying with Mason,” Ava says with a serious face. “I don’t want to be a burden. I’ll start looking for my own place as soon as I get there.”
“No, no. That’s not what we mean at all,” Noah says. “There’s no way you’re a burden to any of us. If anything we’re all jealous of Mason.”
Ava huffs a little relieved sigh and scans the faces sitting at the table with her. “So, what kind of a long-term plan are we talking about?”
“We’ve been considering getting our own place, big enough for all six of us,” I say.
The whole table falls silent as my brothers and I all watch Ava’s reaction intently.
“You mean . . .” Ava stares at the twins, Mason, Ollie, and me. Cautiously, she asks, “You mean we’re all going to be living together?”
We all nod.
“What do you think?” Ollie asks.
“If you don’t like the sound of that, you can always just keep living with me, Ava.” Mason jokes, but I can hear the hint of anxiety in his voice. We’re better together, and he knows that.
