Not in Love by Ali Hazelwood

“If Florence admitted to doing that shit—and yes, I know she has—well . . .” Tisha shrugged. “Listen, I love her. You love her. She did so much for us, and we’re probably going to keep on loving her, even if she fucked up. At least we’ll try. But this is not a small thing. This is someone’s livelihood. This is someone’s hopes and dreams and entire career. We have to do something.”

“I know. But what?”

She scratched her temple. “What if it was your patent that Florence had stolen? What would you want Minami to do?”

My mouth was dry. “I would want her to help me make it right. Even after ten years. Even if she wasn’t the one responsible to begin with, I would want her to be on my side.”

“Okay.” Tisha nodded. “Then let’s try to make it right.”

“We have no evidence. If UT swept it under the rug years ago—”

“Reporting it won’t do anything.” Tisha bit into her lower lip. “I’m not sure what else, though. We might not be the best people to figure this out.”

An idea hit me. “No, we aren’t.” I let out a breathless laugh. “But you know who is?”





33





SAD, BEAUTIFUL FORTRESS GIRL





RUE

The sun was already setting, but I worried that he might still be at the office, and that not finding him might force me to reconsider what I was about to do. Thankfully, I spotted Eli as soon as I pulled up to his street.

He was unlocking his front door, but he turned around when he heard my car approach. In the dusk, his eyes widened. Then softened. I got out quickly, without bothering to collect myself, and marched to him with an outstretched hand.

Eli stared at my open palm for a long while. “What is it?”

“Take it.”

He plucked out the USB. “What’s on it?”

“You know what.”

His expression traveled from confused, to understanding, to shocked. “No.” He shook his head and tried to return it. “Rue, I didn’t tell you so that you—”

“I know. But she took it from you. From Minami. From Hark.”

“Rue.”

“And we agree that she shouldn’t have.”

“We?”

“Tisha and I.”

He stared at the USB pinched between his fingers, silent.

“If Kline is breaking the terms of the loan contract, then Harkness has the right to know. I’m not giving you any secrets. These are just . . .”

“The documents she should have handed over weeks ago?”

At least, I hoped so. I had access to Florence’s office and computer—and a healthy ignorance of financial records. But that’s what Nyota was for.

After a brief hesitation, Eli slid the USB in his pocket. “Thank you, Rue.”

“You’re welcome.” I took a deep breath. “Can I . . .”

He tilted his head.

I swallowed. “The last few days have been . . . difficult. For me. If tonight . . . if I asked you to take me in and let me stay with you, and not mention a single word about Florence, or Kline, would you—”

He opened the door before I could finish the sentence—an unequivocal invitation—and a wordless conversation passed between our locked gazes.

Can I trust you, Eli?

Always.

My heart leaped in my throat. I stepped inside—and was assaulted once again.

“Down, Tiny,” Eli drawled, not bothering to hide his delight at the way his dog’s paws rested on my midriff. “I’m not letting her leave anytime soon. You’ll get to snuggle later.” Tiny licked my chin, and I flinched.

“I don’t really snuggle.”

“Color me shocked.” He took off his glasses and set them next to a stack of unopened mail. Not Harkness’s Eli anymore, but mine.

Mine.

It was half-ridiculous and all pathetic to think of him in those terms, but relief flooded me anyway. “Is it a vanity thing?” I asked.

“What?” He grabbed something from a shelf, and Tiny circled us and jumped up and down, clearly in the middle of a galvanic episode. Were all dogs this shamelessly happy? Science should study their blood. Come up with good drugs.

“The glasses. You only wear them at work. Are you trying to come across less like a former hockey player and more like a nerd?”

“I only wear them at work because, according to my ophthalmologist, I have the eyesight of a man in his eighth decade and need glasses for reading and staring at computer screens.”

“Ah.”

“But thank you for telling me that I look like a dense jock.”

“I didn’t—”

“Shh. I know. Let’s go.” He unspooled some kind of flat rope. It was . . .

Oh no. “Where?”

He hooked the rope to Tiny’s collar. “To walk my dog.”

I took a step back, and he followed. Gently pried my hand from my side and slid the leash around my wrist. “Eli, I shouldn’t be in charge of—”

“If you stay, you’re going to have to earn your keep.”

I shook my head. “I’m not really a—”

“Pet person?” He looked at me like nothing I could have said would surprise him. Like he knew not just the contours, but also the shaded, buried parts of me. At the very least, he knew that they existed. “Let’s go.” His voice was kind but adamant, and I had no choice.