Page 20 of Star Pupil

Epilogue

Avery

“Avery, Mr. Stone is on line one,” my assistant informed me.

As crazy as it was, I had my very own assistant. After Griffin and I had run off to Vegas and gotten married, I’d realized that my mom truly had zero control over me anymore. With my husband’s full support, I enrolled as a freshman at a local college. And when I finally managed to graduate, Hank got what he’d always wanted—another movie executive in the family. Only it was me who followed his path instead of Griffin.

For some odd reason, it only seemed to fuel the public’s interest in us as a couple even more. My mother-in-law seemed to think it was because people were fascinated by the reasons why we’d both turned our backs on acting. Then again, she’d joined in on the baby watch as much as everyone else. So much so, that I often wondered if the paparazzi were so interested in us because Ava had offered a healthy bonus to the first one to discover when I turned up pregnant because she didn’t want to have to wait for us to call her with the news. And it had worked out in her favor. Both times Griffin had knocked me up, photos of my baby bump appeared in the papers before I’d even made it in to see the doctor and confirm the home pregnancy tests I’d taken.

“How many times do I have to tell you it’s okay to call him Griffin?”

“About seventy billion and one,” she mumbled, a blush staining her cheeks.

It had taken six months before I’d talked her into using my first name, but I didn’t think I’d ever be successful when it came to my husband. She was shy, but incredibly organized. Hank warned me she wouldn’t be able to handle this world when I’d hired her, but I saw something in her that made me want to give her a chance.

It turned out to be a great decision, too, because she was amazing at her job. Little by little, she’d been coming out of her shell, and I couldn’t wait to see how she blossomed when she was completely comfortable around here.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Stone,” I answered in a breathy tone of voice.

“Your assistant is still refusing to call me Griffin?” my husband laughed. “She’s a year older than you, for fuck’s sake.”

Griffin got a kick out of the fact that I tended to mother her, even though I was younger. He teased me about it quite often. But it was okay because I joked with him about our age difference all the time, too. “Everyone’s older than me.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he groused.

“Are you calling to beg me to come home because the kids have completely worn you out?”

Our daughters, Audra and Stella, were on summer break from school. At six and eight years old, they were quite the handful. But they adored their daddy and were thrilled to be able to spend their break hanging out with him. And after today, I had a whole month off work so we could take them on vacation.

“I’ll show you exactly how much energy I have left tonight, bright eyes,” he growled. “In fact, maybe you should take a nap on that couch in your office to make sure you’re ready to keep up with me.”

“Bring it on, old man.”

He brought it all right. So much so, that I ended up pregnant again. With twins.

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