Loathe to Love You by Ali Hazelwood

            He gives me a puzzled look. “And I hate the environment?”

            “Yes!” I blink. “No?”

            He shrugs. “I might not compost my own feces or hold my breath to avoid emitting CO2, but I do like nature.”

            I’m a little dumbfounded. “Liam? Can I ask you a question that will possibly make you want to throw the bowl at me?”

            “It won’t.”

            “You haven’t heard the question.”

            “But the soup is really good.”

            I beam. And then I immediately feel self-conscious at the surge of warmth that comes from knowing he likes my cooking. Who cares if he does? He’s a random dude. He’s Liam Harding. On paper, I hate him.

            “You said you really respected Helena’s work. And that she was your favorite aunt. And that you were close. But you work at FGP Corp, and I’ve been wondering . . .”

            “How I’m still alive?”

            I laugh. “Pretty much.”

            “I’m not quite sure why she spared me.”

            “A bit out of character, isn’t it?”

            “I hid the sharp knives every time she visited. But she mostly focused on sending me daily texts about all the evil FGP Corp is doing in the world. Maybe she was going for a slow grind?”

            “I just . . . I don’t understand how you love Helena and nature and working at a company that lobbies to eliminate carbon taxes like its aim is to plunge civilization into fiery darkness.”

            He huffs out a laugh. “You think I enjoy working there?”

            “I assumed you did. Because you seem to work all the time.” I flush—okay, fine, I noticed his hours, sue me—but he doesn’t seem to care. “You . . . don’t?”

            “No. It’s a shitty company and I hate everything it stands for.”

            “Oh. Then why . . .” I scratch my nose. Oh. I did not expect that. “You’re a lawyer. Can’t you, um, lawyer elsewhere?”

            “It’s complicated.”

            “Complicated?”

            The spoon scrapes the bottom of the bowl for a moment. “My mentor recruited me.”

            “Your mentor?”

            “He was one of my professors. I owe him a lot—he helped me get all my internships lined up, advised me during law school. When he asked me to take this job, I didn’t feel like I could say no. He’s my boss now, and . . .” He leans back in his chair and runs a hand through his hair. Tired. He looks very tired. “I have a lot of complicated feelings about what FGP Corp does. And I don’t like the company, or its mission. But in the end, it’s a good thing that I’m around. If it weren’t me, someone else would do my job just as well. And at least I can be there for the team I lead. And run interference between them and my boss when it’s necessary.”

            I think about the words I overheard last night. Unethical. Wrong. “Is he the one you were arguing with? On the phone?” He lifts one eyebrow, and my cheeks warm. “I promise I wasn’t eavesdropping!” But Liam shrugs as though he doesn’t mind. So I smile, leaning forward across the table. “Okay, maybe I was. Just a bit. So, what’s his name?”

            “Whose name?”

            “Your boss. Maybe I can talk to him while you talk to Ted? Some good old reciprocal proxy bullying? Mutual warn-off? Leave-My-Friend-Alone Sixty-Nine?”

            He smiles at me then—a full, real smile. His first in my presence, I think, and it makes breathing that much harder, the temperature of the room that much hotter. How—why is he so handsome? I stare at him, speechless, unable to do anything but notice the clear brown of his eyes, the lopsided way his lips stretch, the fact that he seems to be studying me with a warm, kind expression, and—

            Our eyes dart to his phone. Which is ringing again.

            “Work?” I ask. My voice is hoarse.