Page 118 of The Love Haters

The music was still playing, and Hutch was still watching us like a sniper. Sullivan was pulling at his arms like she was trying to get him to dance. And Rue and The Gals were watching Sullivan strike out.

There was no way any of this was going to end well.

Cole, glancing that way, too, sighed. “You have no idea how hard it is to be related to Hutch.”

“How is it hard?” I said. “He’s perfect.”

“Exactly. He’s perfect.”

I thought about Rue, and how fond of her I’d become in such a short time—how full of life and casual wisdom she was. The way she’d taken me on as a project. This sweet little cottagey beachside community she’d made. Her warm and colorful presence in the world.

“She wants me to make up with Hutch,” Cole said, “and I will absolutely do that. But it’snotgoing to happen if you tell him the truth right now. Do you want to take the one thing a sick old lady wants away from her?”

I sighed. Then I said, “So you’re telling me for the sake of Rue—who I love—I have to go along with this ridiculous, absurd, insulting lie—that I hate?”

“Just until Friday,” Cole said, like that wasn’tforever. “Three days. Then I’ll fly home and tell Sullivan we broke up. And then you can tell Hutch all the truths you want. Hang on until Friday, and we all might escape unscathed.”

I sighed, and I gave my brain a minute to search for some—any—other idea.

Me getting fired—and blackballed—for something I had nothing to do with? I’d take that to tell Hutch the truth right now. Cole getting fired and blackballed—and then pummeled by his brother? Fine. Hell, he deserved it, anyway.

Where it all broke down was Rue. Lovely Rue, and all she’d lost, and all she’d done for everybody, and all she was facing now. I’d never had to make a decision like this. I didn’t know how to begin to think it through. Only one thing in this churning, relentless family mess seemed clear: protect Rue at all costs.

Could I delay the truth for three days to keep from breaking Rue’s heart?

For Rue, I could.

I let out a long, uncertain sigh.

“Just until Friday,” I said, pointing at Cole. “I will not contradict youuntil Friday. But that’s the full extent of what I’m willing to do. I’m not participating in this, or endorsing it, or amplifying it. I’m just letting it stand—temporarily. We’re not partners, and we’re not playing house. Do not touch me, ogle me, or—god forbid—propose to me. If I see you bend either of your knees for any reason, I will murder you in your sleep.”

Nineteen

SO. TO SUMup: in an effort to both save my job for me and get revenge on his objectively cooler older brother, my coworker had lied to everyone and forced me into a make-believe relationship with him without my knowledge or consent.

And then he showed up here—and brought our boss with him.

Our lonely, abandoned boss with lots to work through—and some pretty clear-as-day designs on Hutch.

I’m going to be honest and say that I had been thinking—at least up until his brother messed everything up—that Hutch liked me. The kissing, obviously, seemed like a clear giveaway, if nothing else. Not to mention how mad he’d gotten when the internet was mean to me. And the fact that he was the first person in history, including me, to notice the real color of my eyes.

I don’t suffer from overconfidence, but my best read on the situation had been that we liked each other. Mutually. In a normal situation, if Cole hadn’t intervened like an absolute lunatic, we might have gone on some dates.

Instead, I was somehow in a situation where I had to watch Hutchgenuinely detesting me while my boss—my boss!—tried to put the moves on him.

And I’ll tell you something else. Sullivan might have been a full ten years older than both of us, but she was a highly put-together, very well-dressed woman with great style.

She was hot.

Point being:Sullivanwasn’t afraid of bathing suits.

Rue, of course, had rented her a room at the Starlite, and Sullivan set out to enjoy her work trip/vacation with a vengeance, lounging by the pool in a string bikini and straw hat like a Bain de Soleil model and drinking nonstop tropical cocktails.

She wanted to fire me and seduce Hutch, so we were technically enemies, for sure.

But I had to admit: she looked fabulous.

And as weird as the situation had suddenly become, I did not really think that a guy like Hutch was going to—out of nowhere—switch types from someone like me to someone like Sullivan.

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