Page 7 of Hate Notes

The other eight or nine people were faces I recognized from various places but felt no particular attachment to. They were invaders in my space, disrupting my routine, contaminating my carefully controlled environment.

I was happy to stand there glaring, hoping they'd all feel awkward and decide to leave, but Remmy clapped her hands and smiled. "Alright, people! It's party time! Let's play Orion's favorite song."

Favorite song?I hardly even liked music, let alone?—

I sighed as "Bye, Bye, Bye" by N-Sync began blasting from a Bluetooth speaker. One time. I had hummed along to it one time while working late, and Remmy had never let me forget it.

I was tired as hell,and nobody seemed to be in a hurry to leave. Why should they? The assholes had all taken a power nap while I was working late.

My mom and Remmy had me cornered in the kitchen. I heard laughter and voices from the living room as people danced, probably scuffing my hardwood floors.

"Colton’s right, Orion. Youcouldloosen up. It probably wouldn’t even kill you," my mom said. She was in her late fifties, stillbeautiful, and one of the few people in this world I used my manners around.

"Sorry," I said, folding my arms and glaring at Remmy.

"Don't be mad at your little sister!" Mom said, touching my arm. "You know she just wants to make you happy."

Remmy couldn't do wrong in mom's eyes. Then again, neither could I. She taught us the meaning of unconditional love, especially after dad passed. She was always putting us before herself in ways I hadn't seen at the time. When I looked back, I realized how much of a sacrifice it must have been for her. She had held herself together for us, and I always tried to remember that.

Maybe I didn't have the same compassion she did, but I ran Foster Real Estate a bit like my mom ran our family. I showed strength. I showed unwavering conviction at all times, and I trusted my subordinates to follow my lead. The number of Hate Notes I got each morning demonstrated that it wasn't exactly a tension-free method of operating, but our quarter-after-quarter growth said it worked where it mattered.

My employees could hate me if they wanted, but I paid them highly competitive wages and offered them steady employment. That was more than most CEOs could say.

"If Remmy wanted to make me happy, she could stop surprising me," I suggested.

"Admit it," Remmy said. "You love Goblin. I see the way you two look at each other. That's why I still surprise you. You don't even know what's best for you. So I take it upon myself to give it to you."

"Coming home to a bunch of people in my apartment instead of getting to sleep is what's best for me?" I asked.

"If it was up to you, you'd die alone," Remmy said, her voice taking on that edge that meant she was only half-joking.

"That's not true. What about Stephie?" I asked.

"Your fake girlfriend?" Remmy asked, smiling crookedly.

"What?" Mom asked, eyes flicking between the two of us.

Damn it. Remmy planned this. She knew I couldn't lie to mom. I sighed. "How long have you known?"

"Uh," Remmy said. "Since, like, forever? I saw you two together one time. And you looked like somebody had shoved a lemon so far up your ass you could taste it with your eyeballs."

My mom sputtered with laughter, composed herself, and gave Remmy a slight whack on the arm. "Remmy," she said without much conviction.

"I'm tired of hearing the speech," I said. "It's why I may have allowed you to think I was dating Stephie."

"Allowed me to think," Remmy asked, eyebrows rising. "You specifically told me you were dating. And when I literally asked you, 'so you're not just pretending this is a relationship to get me off your back,' do you remember what you said?"

I rubbed the back of my neck. "The details escape me at the moment."

"Bullshit," Remmy said. "You have a photographic memory, asshole."

"Be nice," mom said, but she was smiling.

"You said," Remmy continued, "'No, Remmy. It's real, and we're in love.'Love. You said that."

"Alright. So I got a little carried away trying to avoid your matchmaking efforts. Can you blame me?"

"Yes." Remmy stared into my eyes, face serious. She raised a finger and pointed to her face. "This is the face of me blaming you, by the way. Look familiar?"

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