Page 33 of The Man She Loves to Hate

“Nearly. Your father’s coming out with me to play nine after his call.” Louis tucked his hands into his pockets. “I have a few minutes to talk.”

She didn’t have anything to say to him, but she supposed chatting about the weather or work was innocuous. “How are things at Baird?”

“Good. The same.”

“That’s good. How are your parents?”

“They’re fine. Are you planning on telling me why you’re hanging around with the internet’s most infamous wedding crasher?”

She blinked, shocked that Louis had recognized Trick. Maybe she should have omitted his last name from the introduction. Or made one up.

“You’re wondering how I knew, aren’t you?” He glanced around her parents’ estate. “People at work have been talking about the video you were in with him. You fell off a ladder. He caught you. Ridiculous stunt.”

“It wasn’t a stunt,” she found herself defending.

“You hanging out with him sure as hell is. A content creator, Rylee?” He shook his head the way he’d done whenever he’d been disappointed with her. “A bit below your pay grade, isn’t he?”

“We’re...friends.” Not that it was any of Louis’s business, but he had made a lot of assumptions and she didn’t care for it one bit.

“You mean like we’re friends?” He leaned casually on the railing, never taking his eyes off her. She used to think his blue-gray irises were attractive, but now the color appeared cold. “Forgive me for saying so, but someone should.”

“Louis—”

“I can’t believe this is the life you’ve chosen. We had a future planned, Rye. One where I would make enough money for both of us so you wouldn’t have to stoop to do people’s bidding. My God, you’ve even roped your mother into handwriting place cards for a talentless celebrity couple.”

“They’re not talentless.”

“It’s demeaning.”

“No, it’s not. She was happy to help.”

He shook his head. “I’m insulted. I could’ve given you anything you wanted and you chose to be a servant. Why do you cater to rich people when you are one yourself? Explain that to me.”

“Why do you choose to work for my father instead of start your own business?” she shot back. “Isn’t that beneath you?”

He laughed in that condescending way he’d perfected. “Nice try, but no, a three-generation multimillion-dollar corporation is a far cry from you scuttling around counting chairs for guests. When you were with me, did you ever consider the chair you were sitting on?

“Of course you didn’t. You were with me. You were taken care of. Anything you needed, wanted, dreamed of having, I provided. I know you’ve been under a lot of stress with this wedding. Your father mentioned it while we were out here chipping balls.”

Well. That was the last time she shared her job stress with her mother. She hadn’t thought it’d be relayed to Louis via her father.

“He’s worried about you. He wanted more for you too, Rye. He wanted me for you.”

“He wasn’t the one who would have had to marry you,” she snapped. “Let’s not forget that you were the one who left, Louis.” Her voice crept up an octave. “You were the runaway groom, remember?”

“No need for theatrics.” Louis had perfected being infuriatingly calm. He waved a hand in the general direction of the house. “Once this boy is out of your system, you should reconsider the life you left behind. It’s not too late for us to try again.”

She didn’t know which argument to make first. “We split up three years ago.”

“Which gave you time to grow up. You tried out a business, you gave living in California a shot, and now you know how many people are willing to take advantage of you.” He smoothed a lock of hair away from her face. “Make no mistake, Rye. Trick is using you. He has no intention of sticking around and being the man you need. He doesn’t have a real job. He can’t provide for you like I can.”

When he brushed her cheek with his knuckles, she smacked his hand away. Her throat was full of words to say, but she had too much tact to say half of them. She wanted to inform her buffoon of an ex that she and Trick were having incredible sex, and that he’d taught her things about her body Louis never bothered to learn. Then again Louis might tell her father she said that, which would be horrific on several levels.

Maybe she would point out that there was more to Trick than his online antics, and that his dreams and goals were worthy of pursuit. But before she could arrange any one of those phrases into spoken form, the door swung aside and her father stepped out of it, his bag of clubs on his shoulder.

“Your mother is asking for you. Ready to hit the links, Louis?”

“We’re almost done here.” She propped her hands onto her hips and faced her ex. “I don’t need you to provide for me. I can provide for myself. You are not, and will never be, a consideration. Not ever again.”

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