Not in Love by Ali Hazelwood

Call me even if you don’t.

My heart thumped, and I allowed myself to think about the previous night. I waited for the shame to catch up and crash into me, a wave of pure mortification, but it never came. I’d told Eli my worst story. And he didn’t seem to care.

A magnetic pen that read kline in blue letters and usually resided on my fridge sat next to the envelope, reminding me of what I’d have to do today.

I called in to work again, this time to take a day off. I got dressed for the record heat, grabbed my car keys, and headed out.





30





I GUESS THIS IS REVENGE





ELI

When Anton’s head peeped in the doorway to announce, “Someone’s here to see Hark,” Eli nodded without bothering to lift his eyes from the financial statement he was studying—until Minami, who sat right next to him on the stupid exercise ball she insisted on using in lieu of a chair, asked, “Is it a visibly pregnant woman holding a homemade DNA test kit?”

“I . . .” Anton shifted on his feet. “This feels like a problematic question.”

“I am a problematic person. Is it?”

“Um, no?”

“Okay. Just asking, because you’re making a really weird face.”

“What face?”

“Like you’re expecting trouble.”

“Yes. Well, no. But this woman came in, asked to talk with Hark, and when I pointed out that she didn’t have an appointment, she told me her name and said, ‘He’ll want to see me.’ Which seemed weird and kinda . . . movie-like?”

“Very movie-like,” Minami agreed with an intrigued bounce on the ball.

Eli felt a prickle of unease at the base of his neck. “What’s the woman’s name, Anton?”

“It’s . . .” He squinted at the Post-it in his hand. “Rue Siebert. Her ID checked out.”

Eli and Minami exchanged a long, teeming look.

“Tell her that Hark will be right out,” Eli instructed.

“But Hark’s on his way back from Seattle—”

“I am aware.” He held Anton’s eyes.

“Tell her anyway.”

Minami waited for them to be alone before asking, “Why is she looking for Hark and not you?”

There was a single logical answer. “She wants to ask him about Florence.”

“What?”

“He indirectly mentioned Florence at dinner the other night. Rue wants to know more, and she thinks he’ll tell her.”

“But why wouldn’t she ask you?”

Why, indeed.

He’d been expecting her to dig into the matter, ever since she’d found the file in his car. Last night he’d been tempted to bring up the deposition and tell Rue the whole sordid story, but there had been no room for that between them. Still, he thought they’d made some progress when it came to trusting each other.

And the fact that she’d rather get answers from Hark . . . Eli did not like that.

“Maybe you should wait till Hark’s back,” Minami said. “So the burden of breaking her pretty little Florence-loving heart won’t fall on you.”

“If her heart has to be broken, I’d rather it be me. That way I can help her pick up the pieces.”

“Then go ahead and tell her. If it’s not one of us, it’ll be Florence—and as we can all attest, she’s a remarkable liar. She could turn Rue against you, and then you’d lose her.”

“Lose her?” He snorted. “Do you think I have her now?”

She scanned his face. “I think you want her.”

“Yeah. I also want world peace and for my dog to live forever.”

“Come on, Eli. I’ve seen you with Mac. I’ve seen you with lots of truly amazing girls.”

“Women.”

“Oh my fucking—we’ve been joined at the hip for the past ten years, Eli.”

He shook his head and turned off his monitor, not bothering to hide his amusement. “Are you breaking up with me?”

“I’ve never seen you like this, Eli.”

He stopped mid-action. Resumed. “Like what?”

“When she’s around, and even when she isn’t, you’re distracted and you moon and you—have you told her how you feel?”

Jesus. “Minami, she is . . . very hurt, and very emotionally unavailable. I don’t think she’s ready for that kind of conversation.” But last night, a hopeful voice whispered in his head. He’d inched closer to discussing feelings with her than ever before, and she hadn’t kicked him out of her apartment. “If I’m not careful—if I don’t pace this just right, she’s going to run. I need to take it slowly.”

Minami looked at him with something that could have been pity. “You don’t look like you want to take it slowly.”

He rose, mostly to avoid screaming I fucking know I don’t at one of his closest friends, whose advice and care he valued. “Any more pearls of wisdom, Dr. Phil?”

“Just be careful. That’s all.”

He took off his glasses and headed down the sleek hallway, nodding at two junior analysts and an intern. When he strode into the lobby, Rue sat on one of the leather couches, hands in her lap, legs neatly folded at a ninety-degree angle. Her posture was impeccable, unfidgety and calm as ever within the chaos of the world around her. It reminded him of the first time he’d seen her, at that hotel bar. He had a couple of seconds to observe her before she noticed him, and used them to the very last drop, drinking her in like she was the end of a century-long drought.