The Magnolia Sisters (Magnolia Sisters #1) - Michelle Major Page 0,2

Avery didn’t bother to fix her messy ponytail or reapply makeup. At this point, what did it matter? She took another swig of Mountain Dew and walked toward the redbrick building, clutching the Italian leather portfolio she’d splurged on after her first promotion. The knots in her stomach tightened with each step.

An older woman with a cotton-ball head of hair looked up from her desk as Avery entered. The receptionist gave her a long once-over, then pointed to a closed office door. “They’re waiting for you.”

“I’m Avery Keller,” Avery told her automatically.

“Yes, dear,” the woman agreed. “I know who you are.”

Of course she did. Avery stared at the door like it was a portal to hell. She was being ridiculous. Her life had already been smashed to bits. One meeting wasn’t going to change things that much. Maybe she’d get money. Maybe a painting or two. Perhaps her father left a letter for her, something that would explain why—

“They’re waiting,” the receptionist repeated. “Mr. Damon has to be at the courthouse at eleven.”

“Right.” Avery straightened her shoulders and moved forward, entering the office as quietly as possible. Not that it mattered. Three sets of eyes turned to her.

Douglas Damon sat behind an enormous mahogany desk, files piled high on the credenza behind him. He was roughly sixty years old, with a meaty build and salt-and-pepper hair. He stood, pulling a pair of reading glasses from his nose. “You must be Avery.”

She nodded.

“Have a seat,” he told her, indicating the empty chair in front of his desk. Avery had never been sent to the principal’s office growing up, but she imagined it felt very much like this moment. Why was she so nervous? She’d done nothing wrong.

Maybe it was the two women glaring at her from where they sat on either side of the unoccupied chair. But why were there two?

She recognized Carrie Reed from her photos on the internet. Based on Avery’s research, Niall’s legitimate daughter had served as his assistant and the manager of his art gallery here in Magnolia. Carrie was her half sister. It felt odd...even though Avery had always wanted a sibling. She wasn’t what she’d pictured, a woman with shoulder-length chestnut hair and a pinched mouth who clearly wanted this meeting as much as Avery did. Had Carrie known about her father’s other daughter?

Who was the third woman? Unlike Avery in her stifling suit and Carrie, who wore a flowing, flowery skirt and soft peasant blouse, the petite brunette wasn’t dressed up for this meeting. On the contrary, her rumpled T-shirt, jeans and heavy-duty work boots seemed like a thumb of the nose to the formality of Douglas Damon’s office. Avery hadn’t discovered anything about a third sister but got the impression that Carrie and the other woman weren’t complete strangers. So what was going on?

She could feel each of the women throwing some wicked side-eye as she lowered herself into the chair. Her skin itched like it was suddenly a size too small for her body, as if she were shrinking under the weight of the critical stares from these two strangers.

But Avery wasn’t about to show weakness. Not now. Not when she’d held her head high through the scandal in San Francisco. Through Tony’s wife confronting her in the office, hurling vile accusations. Through the public humiliation of being reprimanded in front of her entire risk assessment department at Pierce and Chambers, the financial firm where she’d been so proud to work. Through the tragedy of what came next.

She kept her gaze fixed on a spot beyond Damon’s left shoulder as his words washed over her. Apparently the attorney had been her father’s closest friend in addition to his attorney so he’d been named executor of the will and would shepherd the estate through probate. He talked about Reed’s accomplishments, his mistakes and regrets and the hope he’d had that his three daughters would come together after his death to preserve his legacy.

Three. Daughters.

Both of these women were her sisters—half sisters. To Avery, who’d grown up alone, the fact that she shared only one parent with each of them hardly counted. Rage swept through her at all the potential withheld from