Page 34 of Hate Notes

"What's that look for?" Kora asked.

"What look? There's no look. I'm just... thinking about lasagna." I was already typing my reply before I could talk myself out of it.

Me:Baby pictures of Orion Foster? I would pay money for that kind of blackmail material.

"You're in trouble," Kora said, shaking her head.

"Please," I scoffed. "The only trouble I'm in is that I have to see my impossibly grumpy boss outside of work, I said, tilting my phone toward her so she could read. “But hey, free lasagna. And maybe I'll finally figure out if he was born wearing a tie."

As I spoke, that weird feeling in my stomach was back. And this time, I was pretty sure it wasn't just the massive amount of half-digested popcorn.

No, this feeling was way more dangerous than a popcorn overdose. This was the feeling of someone who was starting to care way too much about a man who was supposed to be nothing more than a stepping stone in her revenge plot.

Catman gave me another judgmental look, and this time, I couldn't even argue with him.

16

ORION

The sound of laughter drifted from my mother's kitchen, making my jaw clench. Remmy and Ember were helping—or more likely hindering—Mom's lasagna preparation while I sat at the dining room table, pretending to check work emails.

"Oh my God," Ember's voice carried over. "He really did that?"

"Three times!" Mom said. "Every time we tried to take a family photo, little Orion would straighten his clip-on tie and demand we start over because his hair wasn't perfect."

"I was six," I muttered, though nobody was listening to me. The women in my kitchen were too busy trading stories about how “adorably neurotic” I was as a child.

More laughter. The kind that said there were probably embarrassing photos being passed around. I considered intervening, but the last time I'd gone into the kitchen, Remmy had tried to make me wear an apron covered in dancing vegetables. The time before that, Mom had asked Ember if she was single in a voice that suggested she was already planning our wedding.

So here I sat, definitely not listening to the women in my life conspiring against me.

"He was such a serious little boy," Mom continued. "When his father passed, Orion decided he had to be the man of the house. He was only twelve, but he started wearing a tie to school every day. Said he needed to look professional so people would take him seriously."

The laughter faded. I could feel Ember's eyes on me from the kitchen doorway, but I kept my gaze fixed on my phone, scrolling through emails I'd already read twice.

"After that," Mom's voice softened, "he put everything into making sure Remmy and I were taken care of. Even tried to get a paper route, but they said he was too young."

"So he started his own business instead," Remmy added. "Went door to door offering to organize people's garages. Can you believe that? What twelve-year-old thinks of that?"

"He made pretty good money, too," Mom said proudly. "Though I had to make him stop when Mrs. Henderson from three doors down started asking him to organize her bedroom."

"Mom," I warned, heat creeping up my neck.

"What? I'm just telling Ember about what a good son you've always been. And how you've always taken such good care of us."

“After the garage thing, Orion branched out into all kinds of little businesses. By the time he was sixteen, he had become involved in investing and day trading. At seventeen, he paid off mom’s mortgage.”

“And I still think about how amazing that is almost every day,” my mom gushed.

“Okay,” I said. “Ember doesn’t want to hear you two exaggerate and paint me as some boy genius of business.”

I finally looked up to find Ember watching me with an expression I couldn't quite read. There was something soft in her eyes that made my chest feel tight. It was the same look she got sometimes at work when she thought I wasn't watching—like she was trying to figure out a particularly complex puzzle.

“I think it’s interesting,” Ember said softly. “Some people don’t make sense until you understand the dark places they won’t show.” She gave a shrug, as if trying to lighten the otherwise serious topic. “Maybe I can use this juicy information to earn a promotion somehow.”

“Ambitious, too!” my mom said, wiggling her brows at me. “This one’s a keeper, huh?”

"More wine?" Remmy asked, already refilling Ember's glass.

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