Not in Love by Ali Hazelwood

“And what is it that you want . . .” She seemed temporarily lost for words. “What’s your happy ending?”

What a loaded question. “Kline is not doing well. The tech should have been brought to international markets years ago. The company expanded too quickly, is unfocused and—we have reason to suspect—insolvent. Florence has surrounded herself with yes-men instead of competent advisers. In the ideal scenario, Florence’s loan defaults. We take control of Kline, appoint a board with actual expertise. No employment shrinkage, no reduction of wages. Better science.”

“And you own the patent?”

“And we own the patent.”

Rue glanced away with a frown. For the first time since the conversation had begun, he knew for certain how she felt.

Sad.

“Thanks for being honest, Eli. I really appreciate it, but . . . I have to go now.” She walked past him, but then stopped and retreated for a short moment, just enough to rise on her toes and press a kiss to his lips.

Eli let her go, but when her hand was on the doorknob he said, “Rue.”

“Yes?”

He stared into her wide, unclouded eyes. Said, “Nothing,” instead of the truth: anything. Everything.

He thought he caught a split second of hesitation, but it must have been a trick of the light. Still, he stood in front of the closed door for longer than he cared to admit, hoping that she would come back.





31





DIFFICULT CHOICES





RUE

Minami was waiting for me on a bench in the ground-floor lobby, a cross-legged figure leisurely sipping from a water bottle. She didn’t call me over, but I sat next to her anyway.

“He told you about Florence?”

I nodded.

“Just wanted to make sure. Otherwise, I would have.”

I studied her pretty, relaxed face. The steel underneath her calm demeanor. “You and Eli are very close, aren’t you?”

“Oh, yeah. I get fed up with Sul and Hark all the time, but Eli’s my rock, as cheesy as it sounds. Did he tell you that it was his idea? The final breakthrough for the tech. We were stuck for ages, and then he figured out the last step. And he was so proud.” She smiled. “He was the kid, you know? The youngest. Hark was broody and worldly, but Eli was pure sunshine. Kind and fun and a total flirt. It has dulled over the years, because of everything that happened with his family, but you can still see that spark, right?”

I could. I did. And I wasn’t sure what someone with that kind of spark was doing with someone like me.

“I adored him from the start,” Minami continued. “But, Rue, it doesn’t really matter. I didn’t want you to know because of Eli. I wanted you to know because of you.” She stood. Looked down at me with a grave expression. “You and your friend should watch your backs with Florence. Neither of you deserves to go through what I did.”



When I pulled in to Kline’s parking lot, the sun baked high in the sky, and Florence was already outside, sitting on one of the benches on the side of the building. There was little doubt that she was waiting for someone.

“Hi, Rue,” she said, when I walked to her. Her hair was a fiery, bright orange in the midday light, a stark contrast to her melancholic smile. “Eli emailed me.”

I frowned. “He did?”

“He told me he gave you his version of what happened. Said I might want to give you mine.” She laughed softly, and there was some fondness for Eli in it, as though she liked him despite herself. “You know what he wrote to me?”

I shook my head.

“That when it all went down, ten years ago, what hurt him the most was not being able to understand the actions of someone he trusted. He’d never wish this on you, and thought I should give you an explanation.” She pressed her lips together. “He didn’t ask for an explanation for himself. Didn’t insult me. Wasn’t even passive aggressive. All three of them—Minami, Hark, Eli—have refused to talk to me ever since the loan was bought. Not a single communication happened without lawyers standing around. And here Eli Killgore is. Breaking the streak. For you.”

Florence’s words lingered in the air. My heart felt at once laden and wrung through a strainer. “And?” I asked. I could not bring myself to take a seat next to her.

“I’m not sure what he told you.”

It sounded enough like an admission that I had to brace myself. “Just give me your story, then.”

“Okay. I . . .” Florence ran a hand through her hair and sighed heavily. “You have to understand, Rue. The world is not black and white. There are shades of gray. There are difficult choices that people have to make sometimes. The UT job . . . the UT job was really bad. I realized that despite my grants and my output, they weren’t going to offer me tenure. It had happened before, to people more qualified than me. There were a couple of lawsuits and several investigations going on, all started by women in the department who’d been treated unfairly. Fucking terrible. And that’s when . . .” She shrugged. “Brock was a big part of it. Which should have been a red flag, but at the time our marriage wasn’t quite the dumpster fire it later became, and we were actively working on saving it. We were trying to have a baby, if you can believe it. We were brainstorming ways for me to get out of academia altogether, considering a move, maybe. Talked about it for months. In the end, pivoting to industry made the most sense. I was thinking of just getting a research staff job, but—Rue, will you sit?” She squinted, covering her eyes with her hand. “The sun is right behind you.”