Page 43 of The Love Haters

Carlos and I glanced at each other, then kept watching the vent.

Hutch went on with his message. “I recovered a body yesterday. A twenty-year-old guy who got caught in a rip current. His whole family waited on the beach while we searched.” Another sigh. “Do you have any idea how short life is? Evenlonglives are too short. Why are you wasting time? I keep trying—but nothing from you. I want so badly right now to say that I give up. But I can’t do that, Cole! Because as much as you hate it, and as much as I hate it right now, too—you’re the only brother I’ll ever have.”

The vent went quiet.

Wow. For a guy who was not a talker… I guess he had some things to say.

Then Hutch appeared in the hallway, his frown tight, practicing what looked like controlled breathing. He took several deliberate steps until he had joined us again.

Carlos proceeded as if nothing was weird. “AST One Tom Hutcheson, may I present documentary filmmaker Katie Vaughn.”

I was really more of a mid-level employee with potential. But documentary filmmaker worked, too.

“Hello,” I said, holding out my hand.

Hutch took it, looked up—and recognized me at last.

Delayed reaction.

Me: no longer butt-up leaning over a patio table in a polka-dot one-piece, but in normal clothes with all my gear—my personal dignity a little shaky, but present and accounted for.

“You’re—” he started.

My haunch stung at the recognition. “Katie,” I said. “I’m staying with Rue. In one of her cottages. Cole set it up.”

“I see,” Hutch said, nodding. “Cole set it up when he decided to send you instead of himself.”

I mean,yeah. I shrugged.

“Does Rue know? That you’re here to take his place?”

I shook my head. “He swore me to secrecy.”

Hutch pushed out a sigh. “Until when?”

“Until it was too late for her to make him change the plan?”

“So you knew?” he asked, like we’d been in cahoots.

Knew? Knew what? That this was an offer I couldn’t refuse? I’d have to be fully unconsciousnotto know that. “I knew,” I began, standing straighter, “that Cole was not available for this project and needed a replacement. And that his aunt Rue might not be happy about it.”

Hutch gave a nod, likeNoted.

I waited out the pause that followed.

Next, Hutch stretched around to get a gander at my haunch. “How’s your—”

“It’s fine,” I cut him off, in a tone likeWe’re done with that topic forever.

Hutch brought his eyes back up to my all-business face. Then, in a one-final-question tone, he asked, “And you didn’t introduce yourself the other day at the pool because—?”

I thought about trying to come up with some convoluted explanation for him. But the only thing that came to me was the truth. So I didn’t fight it.

Instead, I just said: “I was too busy drowning in humiliation.”

IT’S FAIR TOsay that I really didn’t know this guy Hutch very well—so my ability to read his emotional state might not have been perfect. But, as he led me off for the scheduled air station tour, there wasn’t too much doubt about his vibe.

I think the technical term ispissed off.

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