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Rachel:Yes????
Rachel:You’re in VEGAS and you’re only response is YES?
Hannah:I think you meant *your
Bad grammar is one of Rachel’s biggest pet peeves. If you ask her, she’s unhappily single because the online dating world is chock full of the barely literate. Her words, not mine. Although I have seen some of the screenshots she’s sent me and she has a point.
Rachel’s name flashes across the screen with an incoming call a few seconds later. I answer it with a sigh, already knowing what she’ll say.
“First off, it was autocorrect, not me. Secondly, when are you going to tell Dad that you’re a grown woman, not an errand girl?”
“He’s my boss, Rachel. It’s my job.”
“You took the day off. Dad will love you just as much, Hannah, if you set some boundaries.”
“Wow. I can’t believe you had time to get a psychology degree between teaching and reading those romance books you love.”
I caught Rachel reading a paperback with a shirtless man on the cover on Thanksgiving, and I’ve made a point to tease her about it multiple times since.
“First off, I’m a Garner.Obviously, I can multitask. And second, you should read one. Your life could use a little romance.”
Rachel isn’t wrong, but I’m not about to admit it. Since breaking up with Declan, I’ve gone on plenty of dates. Partly to prove to my family I’m fine. But Declan’s parting words echo in my head and make me wonder if there’s any point.No one wants a challenge that never ends, he told me. I’ve heard some version of the same sentiment before. It’s never felt easy with anyone, so it’s always turned into a hard relationship until it ends.
“I’ll keep that in mind, thanks.”
“When will you be home? I was going to see if you wanted to go to that new sushi place tonight, and then Mom mentioned Dad sent you to the seminary of debauchery.”
“My flight leaves at eleven a.m. tomorrow. I’ll be back in LA early afternoon. And it’s not that exciting here. Hardly aseminary of debauchery.”
I got used to Rachel’s wordsmithery back when she won the fifth-grade spelling bee. It doesn’t even merit a sarcastic comment about memorizing the dictionary at this point.
“Then you’re obviously doing it wrong.”
I don’t argue with that because she’s probably right.
For someone who spends so much time in fictional worlds, Rachel has a zest for life I lack. She’s always trying new hobbies. She spends her summers off traveling around the world. When I’m not working, I mostly just redecorate my house because I can’t settle on a consistent theme.
“I’m here for work.”
“You won’t be working tonight,” Rachel sings. “Put on a tight dress and go to one of those male stripper shows.”
I roll my eyes as the car stops in front of the swanky hotel I’m staying at. “I have to go. I’ll talk to you when I’m back in LA and we can go to the sushi spot soon.”
“Fine. Love you, sis.”
“Love you too.”
I say goodbye to the driver and then climb out of the car, headed for the hotel’s automatic doors.
CHAPTERTHREE
OLIVER
Asher Cotes and Isabel Sterling jump apart as soon as I enter the executive floor’s break room to grab a sparkling water from the fridge. Since they were only standing about a foot apart to begin with, I take their mutual jumpiness to mean they’ve spent time together in even closer proximity.
I couldn’t care less if they’re sleeping together. My father—andCrew—would be another story. Kensington Consolidated likely has a non-fraternization policy, but since dating an employee has never been so much as a passing thought in my mind, I don’t actually know if we do or not. If it’s not explicit, it’s certainly implied.
“Morning, Oliver,” Asher says easily, tucking a hand in his pocket and leaning back against the wall. His expression evens as he regains his usual, relaxed composure.
