Chapter 7 — Beach House Terms & Conditions
If Pearson Hardman West was a jungle, Charlie Harper's beach house was the gift shop outside it—full of overpriced nonsense, loud tourists, and at least one display that definitely wasn't up to code.
Hayden walked in after work and immediately knew something was wrong.
Not danger wrong.
Worse.
Charlie wrong.
The living room lights were dim. Music was playing—soft, romantic, overly confident. Candles sat on the coffee table like Charlie had been binge-watching movies where men pretended to be emotionally available.
Alan was on the couch, hunched like a hostage, holding a paper plate of appetizers he didn't want. Jake was eating olives straight from a bowl like a tiny, judgmental raccoon.
And Charlie was wearing a button-up shirt.
A real one.
Not a loud one, either.
A respectable one.
Hayden stopped in the doorway and stared.
"Why," Hayden said calmly, "does it smell like you're about to make a mistake on purpose?"
Charlie spun around with a grin. "Hayden! Perfect timing."
Alan's eyes screamed save me.
Jake raised an olive like a toast. "Hi, Captain Lawyer."
Hayden loosened his tie slowly, never taking his eyes off Charlie. "I'm going to ask again—why does it smell like this?"
Charlie waved a hand toward the kitchen. "Because I'm hosting."
Hayden's gaze moved to the kitchen and landed on the "guest list" assembled there.
Two women—both dressed like Malibu meant something to them—laughed too loudly at something Charlie had said. One was pouring wine like she owned the bottle. The other was looking around the house like she was pricing it.
Alan mouthed the words: help.
Hayden's eyes flicked to Alan. Then to Jake. Then back to Charlie.
"Charlie," Hayden said, voice still calm, "tell me you didn't invite strangers into the house while Alan is mid-divorce."
Charlie blinked, offended. "They're not strangers. They're friends."
Hayden nodded. "Then why don't you know their last names?"
Charlie hesitated for half a second.
Hayden's jaw tightened. "Exactly."
One of the women noticed Hayden and smiled—warm, practiced.
"Oh my God," she said, gliding toward him. "You must be Charlie's brother."
Hayden offered a polite handshake. "Hayden."
Her grip was soft but intentional. "I'm Tiffany."
Hayden nodded once. "Tiffany what?"
Tiffany blinked like she'd forgotten last names existed. "Just… Tiffany."
Hayden released her hand gently. "That's not a last name. That's a warning label."
Alan made a choked sound like a laugh dying in his throat.
Charlie shot Hayden a look. "Hey. Be nice."
Hayden turned to Charlie, voice quiet but sharp. "I am being nice. I'm not calling the police."
Tiffany laughed like it was a joke.
It wasn't.
The other woman approached, eyes scanning Hayden—suit, posture, calm. She smiled wider, like she'd smelled money.
"And you're a lawyer," she said, voice sweet. "That's so attractive."
Hayden nodded. "I get that a lot."
Charlie grinned. "See? He's charming."
Hayden's eyes stayed on the woman. "It's also a legal liability."
The woman blinked. "Excuse me?"
Hayden kept his tone professional—almost gentle, which made it scarier.
"You're in a house owned by my brother," Hayden said. "My other brother is in an active divorce negotiation, and his ex-wife is hostile. If there's a dispute, theft, accusation, or anything that becomes a police report, it becomes leverage."
Charlie waved him off. "You're being dramatic."
Hayden looked at Charlie like Charlie had just confessed he couldn't read.
"I'm being accurate," Hayden said.
Jake nodded solemnly. "Mom would use it."
Alan whispered, miserable, "She would use it."
Charlie's smile faltered. Just a little. Not because he agreed—because he didn't like being told he was wrong.
Hayden stepped closer to Charlie, lowering his voice so the women couldn't hear clearly.
"Charlie," he said, calm, "you want to be generous? Fine. You want to party? Fine. But this house is now connected to a law firm, a divorce, and a reputation."
Charlie scoffed. "Oh please."
Hayden didn't move. "I'm serious."
Alan leaned forward, eyes pleading. "Charlie, please—"
Charlie's jaw tightened. "Everyone is ganging up on me."
Hayden's mouth twitched. "Welcome to accountability."
Charlie glared. "You don't get to talk to me like I'm twelve."
Hayden's eyes stayed steady. "Then stop acting like you are."
That landed.
Charlie's face hardened. Alan froze. Jake looked delighted—like he'd just seen someone finally tell the truth in a Harper household.
The women were still smiling, but the vibe had shifted. They could feel the tension. Most people could. Charlie usually relied on people not caring.
Hayden turned back to them, polite.
"Ladies," Hayden said, "I'm sorry. Charlie didn't tell you this is a family situation tonight."
Tiffany blinked. "It's fine—"
"It's not," Hayden said calmly. "So here are the terms."
Charlie's eyes widened. "Terms?"
Hayden nodded once, like he was issuing court orders.
"1) No photos in the house."
"2) No posting location tags."
"3) No wandering upstairs."
"4) You leave by ten."
The other woman laughed, offended. "Who do you think you are?"
Hayden met her gaze without heat. "The person who keeps this household from becoming a lawsuit."
Alan mouthed: thank you.
Jake whispered: "Captain Lawyer rules."
Charlie stepped forward, voice sharp. "Okay, that's enough. You can't just—"
Hayden didn't look at him.
"Yes, I can," Hayden said. "Because you don't see the fallout. And I do."
Charlie's nostrils flared. "You're not my dad."
Hayden's voice stayed calm, but it carried weight.
"No," he said. "I'm your brother. And I'm the only one in this house thinking past tonight."
Silence.
The ocean outside hissed against the shore like it was listening.
Then Tiffany spoke carefully, smile fading into something more cautious.
"Maybe we should go," she said.
Charlie's expression softened immediately—because Charlie hated losing attention more than he hated being wrong.
"Wait—no—"
Hayden held up a hand. "You can stay. Under the terms. If not, you go."
The other woman scoffed again, but her confidence had cracked.
"This is ridiculous," she muttered.
Hayden nodded. "Then leaving should be easy."
Alan exhaled like he'd been saved from drowning.
Charlie looked like he wanted to scream.
Jake just kept eating olives, fully entertained.
Tiffany hesitated, then nodded. "Okay. Ten."
Hayden nodded back. "Good choice."
Charlie glared at Hayden. "You just ruined my night."
Hayden finally looked at him, expression calm and honest.
"No," he said. "I just protected your life from consequences you refuse to respect."
Charlie opened his mouth—
Hayden raised an eyebrow. "Want me to translate that into musician language?"
Charlie snapped, "No."
Hayden nodded. "Then behave."
Charlie stared, furious… but quieter.
Because even Charlie knew when a line had been drawn.
Hayden loosened his tie again and walked toward the kitchen.
He didn't feel triumphant.
He felt tired.
And something else—something annoyingly human.
Responsibility.
The "party" continued the way a party continues after someone reads the Terms & Conditions out loud.
Quietly. Carefully. With the faint smell of resentment.
Charlie sat on the couch like a dethroned king, pretending he wasn't sulking. Alan hovered near the kitchen island like a man who'd just survived a hostage negotiation. Jake stayed committed to his olive-based lifestyle, watching everything like it was premium television.
Hayden stood by the counter, sipping water, eyes tracking movement the way they did in court: not paranoid—prepared.
Tiffany kept her smile on, but it was thinner now. The other woman—Chloe, apparently—kept glancing at Charlie as if expecting him to "put Hayden in his place."
Charlie wasn't. Because Charlie knew Hayden wasn't bluffing.
And because deep down, Charlie hated consequences… but he respected competence.
That didn't mean he enjoyed it.
After a few minutes of awkward small talk, Charlie finally snapped under the weight of his own wounded ego.
He stood abruptly and pointed at Hayden. "Okay. Explain this."
Hayden didn't look up. "Explain what?"
"This," Charlie said, waving around at the candles and women and atmosphere like it was evidence. "You come in here and start acting like the house is a courtroom."
Hayden's voice stayed calm. "It might as well be."
Charlie scoffed. "Oh please."
Alan whispered, "It really might."
Charlie shot him a glare. "Traitor."
Jake raised an olive. "He's not a traitor. He's just scared."
Alan nodded. "I'm scared."
Charlie's jaw clenched. He turned back to Hayden, voice sharper.
"You're twenty. You've been at the firm for, what, five minutes? And you're already acting like you run everyone's life."
Hayden finally set his glass down and looked at Charlie.
Not angry.
Just… done.
"I'm not trying to run your life," Hayden said. "I'm trying to stop you from wrecking mine."
That caught Charlie off guard for half a second.
Chloe blinked. Tiffany went still.
Alan's eyes widened slightly, like he hadn't even considered that Hayden could be affected by Charlie's chaos.
Charlie recovered fast, though, because pride is a powerful drug.
"Your life?" Charlie repeated, laughing once. "What, because you're a lawyer now? You think you're better than us?"
Hayden's expression didn't change.
"No," he said. "I think I'm the only one planning for the fallout."
Charlie's nostrils flared. "There it is. That attitude."
Hayden's voice stayed even. "Charlie, you invited strangers into this house while Alan is in an active negotiation with Judith. She's already looking for leverage. You gave her a buffet."
Charlie pointed toward the women. "They're not leverage."
Hayden's gaze flicked to Tiffany, then to Chloe, then back to Charlie.
"They're unknown variables," Hayden said. "Unknown variables become problems."
Chloe scoffed. "Wow. He talks like a robot."
Jake snorted. "He talks like Batman."
Alan whispered, "He talks like my therapist, but scarier."
Charlie snapped, "See? That. You're scaring everyone."
Hayden tilted his head slightly. "Good."
Charlie blinked. "What?"
Hayden didn't raise his voice. That was the point. Controlled chaos wasn't loud. It was precise.
"Because you've spent your whole life doing what you want because people clean up after you," Hayden said calmly. "I'm not cleaning up after you anymore."
Silence.
The ocean hissed outside like it was watching the argument unfold.
Charlie's face tightened. "I don't need you."
Hayden nodded once. "True."
That stung more than any insult.
Charlie's mouth opened, then closed again. He didn't have a comeback for that, because the truth didn't leave room for banter.
Alan shifted uncomfortably. Jake kept eating olives, fully invested in the drama.
Tiffany cleared her throat softly. "Maybe we should… go?"
Charlie looked at her—panic and pride colliding. "No—no, you can stay."
Hayden didn't move. "Ten."
Chloe rolled her eyes. "This is ridiculous. I'm not staying in a house where a kid makes rules."
Hayden met her eyes with polite calm. "Then leaving is the correct choice."
Chloe's cheeks flushed. She grabbed her purse. "Come on, Tiffany."
Tiffany hesitated, then offered Charlie a small apologetic smile. "I'm sorry."
Charlie's face tightened. "It's fine."
It wasn't.
They left.
The front door clicked shut.
And the house felt instantly quieter, like it exhaled after holding its breath.
Charlie stood there staring at the door for a moment, like he couldn't believe he'd actually lost something.
Then he turned on Hayden.
"Happy?" Charlie snapped.
Hayden's voice stayed calm. "Safer."
Charlie's laugh was bitter. "Oh, right. Safer. Great. You saved us from… two women drinking wine."
Hayden didn't flinch. "You saved yourself from Judith finding out there were two women in your house the night after her lawyer got embarrassed by Alan's 'new counsel.'"
Alan whispered, "Oh my God."
Charlie blinked. "That's… that's not—"
Hayden continued, voice even. "Judith is angry. Angry people look for ways to hurt you. They don't need proof. They need a story. Chloe looked like she'd sell a story for a free mimosa."
Charlie's face tightened. "You don't know that."
Hayden nodded. "Correct. That's why she's a problem."
Charlie stared at Hayden for a long beat, jaw clenched.
Then, unexpectedly, the fight drained out of him.
He slumped onto the couch, rubbing his face. "I hate you."
Hayden sat on the edge of the armchair opposite him, posture calm.
"No," Hayden said, "you hate consequences."
Charlie glanced at him, eyes sharp. "I also hate you a little."
Hayden nodded. "That's fair."
Alan approached cautiously like a man stepping toward a wild animal.
"Charlie," Alan said softly, "Hayden's right. Judith would—"
Charlie raised a hand. "Don't. I don't want your pity."
Alan stopped.
Jake piped up, mouth full of olives. "Uncle Charlie, you should listen to Hayden. He's like… a boss fight."
Charlie groaned. "Jake, stop."
Jake shrugged. "It's true."
Hayden's phone buzzed.
A text from Donna.
DONNA: Louis is furious. Again. Also Harvey asked about you. That's either good or terrible. Probably both.
Hayden read it, then pocketed the phone.
Charlie noticed. "Work drama?"
Hayden nodded. "Always."
Charlie leaned back, trying to recover his identity as the "cool Harper" by switching to sarcasm. "Let me guess. You beat someone with words and now they hate you."
Hayden's mouth twitched. "More or less."
Charlie stared at the ceiling for a moment, then asked, quieter:
"Do you really think Judith would use that against Alan?"
Hayden's expression softened—barely.
"Yes," he said. "Because she already is."
Alan's shoulders sagged. Charlie's jaw clenched again, but this time it wasn't ego. It was something else.
Protectiveness, buried under years of selfishness.
Charlie exhaled hard. "Fine."
Hayden blinked once. "Fine?"
Charlie waved a hand. "Fine. No strangers for a while. Until Alan's stuff settles."
Alan's eyes widened like he'd just seen a unicorn.
"Really?" Alan asked.
Charlie shot him a look. "Don't make it weird."
Alan nodded quickly. "I won't. I won't."
Hayden watched Charlie for a beat longer than necessary.
He didn't say "thank you."
Because thank-yous could turn into permission slips in this family.
Instead, he said something better.
"That's the right decision," Hayden said.
Charlie grunted. "Yeah, yeah. Don't get emotional. It's gross."
Jake raised his olive again. "Team Harper wins!"
Charlie groaned. "We didn't win. We just didn't lose."
Hayden nodded once, approving.
"Exactly," he said. "Now you're speaking my language."
Charlie glanced at him, then smirked slightly.
"God," Charlie muttered. "You really are insufferable."
Hayden's smile was faint. "And yet… effective."
Charlie snorted a laugh—small, reluctant.
Alan exhaled, relieved.
Jake went back to olives.
And for the first time in a long time, the Harper house felt like it had rules.
Not because anyone loved rules.
But because somebody finally understood the cost of living without them.