The One I Love to Hate

by Amanda Weaver

  “Sure. I mean, being unemployed is really going to free up my schedule.”

  “Hey—”

  “I don’t want to talk about it now. I’m going to have to tell the whole story to my family soon, and that’s enough.”

  “Okay, we won’t talk about it anymore. For now. So what time should I send the car for you?”

  “What?”

  “The car. Dad’s out of town, so it’s no problem—”

  “No, please. Stop. You can’t send a limo to fetch me.”

  He looked adorably puzzled. “Why not?”

  Flustered, she waved her hands helplessly. “Because it makes me feel like your high-class hooker or something.”

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  “Whatever. I’m taking the subway,” she said, imbuing the words with all the finality she could muster. “I’ll see you at seven?”

  Before he could protest again, she hooked a hand around the back of his neck and pulled him down for a hard, thorough kiss. Abandoning his protest, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her firmly into his body, deepening the kiss. Oh, maybe she could just stay...

  “Maybe you could just stay,” he muttered against her mouth.

  “Ugh, no, I have to go home and you have to go to work.” Regretfully, she extracted herself from his arms. He followed her outside, one hand resting lightly on the small of her back. The car turned out to be a black SUV, not an actual limo.

  Alex and Omar shared a brief exchange, hinting at a long-standing, comfortable relationship. He was clearly part of the Drake family. Omar opened the back door for her, but Alex caught her hand when she moved to climb in.

  “Hey, Jess?” Brushing a strand of hair out of her face, he tucked it behind her ear.

  “Yeah?”

  “I just want you to know... Yesterday was a lot to take in, but I’m really happy about this. Us.”

  Oh, the butterflies would be the death of her. They beat frantically against her rib cage as his fingers skated over her shoulders and down her arms to take her hands in his.

  Even though the rest of her life was currently in shambles, in this moment, with Alex, she was happy, too. So incredibly happy.

  “Me, too.”

  His smile, shy, almost grateful, made her heart swell. Leaning down, he kissed her, then murmured against her lips, “See you tonight.”

  Weak-kneed and grinning like an idiot, she slid into the back seat of the SUV. Alex closed the door behind her and tapped on the roof before backing away. Omar politely asked her where she was going and she gave him her address in Brooklyn. With a nod, he pulled away from the curb. Jess glanced back at Alex, still standing on the sidewalk. He raised his hand as she drove away.

  Falling back on the soft leather seat, Jess watched the winter-bare branches of the trees in Central Park slide past outside the window. Her fingertips played over her lips, still feeling Alex’s kiss there, still feeling his hands on her body.

  When she’d idly imagined her ideal man in the past, she’d envisioned him as a little scruffy and working class, like her. Intelligent and idealistic, like her. Alex had the second in spades, but the first...wow. All that money was going to take some getting used to. He was so much the polar opposite of her imagined working-class hero, it was laughable.

  But that was on her, wasn’t it? He was fine the way he was. Better than fine. It was time to admit, now that she’d quit hating him, Alex Drake was pretty close to perfect. The baggage he came with—a media empire and a controlling plutocrat who had an iron grip on his son—well, those were challenges she’d think about some other day.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  After Jess had gone, Alex made his way back inside, heading up to his father’s kitchen again. There was no sign of Ashley, but Dan was still there, sipping his coffee and reading one of the papers Lucia had left out.

  Dan looked up at him with curiosity. “You’re back, Sport.”

  “Yeah... I just wanted to grab a bottle of water.”

  As he retrieved a bottle from the fridge, he considered how to proceed. He’d come upstairs intending to tell his father everything he’d found out about Chase the night before, but something held him back.

  Chase was away for Christmas, which meant there was no rush to deal with this today. Right now, he only had half the puzzle. Someone inside the Daily Post was feeding stories to Chase, and if he showed his hand regarding Chase too soon, Chase would be fired and that would sever the link. It wasn’t enough to clear the poison out of ClickNews. He needed to clear it out at the Daily Post, too, and in doing so, clear Jess’s name. Suspicion had only fallen on her because of him, and somehow, he was going to fix it.

  “Did Ashley leave?” he asked, just to make conversation.

  Dan smirked as he took another sip of coffee. “She was pissed your girlfriend got the limo.”

  Girlfriend? The word caught him off guard, but after last night, they were certainly...something. Something big. Something serious. Girlfriend felt pretty accurate, actually. It felt good.

  “How long’s that been going on, by the way?”

  His father’s voice had shifted very slightly. There was an edge to the question, as Dan prodded at him, assessing the situation from all sides. His father was defensive where women were concerned. Of course, that was largely his own fault, because he slept with a string of younger women who were clearly after his money. But it left him distrustful of any woman’s motivation, and now Alex could practically feel him sizing up Jess, assessing her worth.

  “It’s recent.”

  “She’s cute.”

  “She’s brilliant, too.” The words came out sharper than he’d intended, almost a rebuke.

  Dan slowly lowered his coffee cup, watching him over the rim. “I’m sure she is.”

  Damn, he’d shown his hand. Now his father would really be on alert. “I’d better get to work—”

  “Forget work,” Dan interjected. “Come to Rio with me.”

  “What?”

  Dan shrugged. “I’m going down to assess the acquisition. You might as well come and see it for yourself, since it’ll be yours to manage one day.”

  A dull thud of dread echoed in his chest. “Ah... I’d better not. There’s a lot going on at ClickNews right now, with the transition.”

  Dan waved off his concern. “They can manage without you. Come spend Christmas on the beach in Rio with your old man. We’ll have a blast.”

  His father’s idea of a fun Christmas in Rio would undoubtedly involve a lot of very attractive women. Maybe he thought if he dangled enough of them in front of him, Alex would forget about the one who’d just left. Not a chance.

  “Sounds fun, Dad, but the holiday coverage is already set at ClickNews. I’d screw up someone’s plans if I took off.”

  His father’s eyes narrowed in a lightning-fast shrewd assessment. “Are you sure you’re not sticking around the city for the girl?”

  He was totally staying in New York for Jess, but there was no way he’d say so to his father. He was already suspicious. No sense throwing gasoline on that particular fire. “ClickNews needs me right now, that’s all.”

  Dan shrugged, letting go of the Brazil plan as quickly as it had come. “They’d better not get too used to you there. You’re only passing through. You’ll be at Drake HQ soon enough.”

  Alex forced a smile despite the ball of misery forming in his stomach. “That may be, but for now, I don’t want to take advantage of being the boss’s son. Terrible for morale, especially so soon after the acquisition.”

  Dan grinned. “See? Already thinking like a manager. You’re a natural. I’ve always said so.”

  “Yes,” Alex said, nodding in grim agreement. “Yes, you have.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Closing the front door behind her, Jess listened for the telltale
noises the house made when someone was home—the creak of floorboards and the muffled footsteps on carpets.

  “Anybody home?” she called.

  “Kitchen,” came Gemma’s overly prompt response, which made her think Gemma had been peering out the front window as the car pulled up and had only scurried back to the kitchen as she came in.

  After hanging her coat and scarf in the hall, she made her way back to the kitchen. Livie was there, too, much to her surprise. Livie spent so much time at grad school, she practically lived there.

  Gemma was leaning against the counter, eating a bowl of cereal with studied nonchalance. Livie had her laptop open on the kitchen table, an explosion of papers surrounding her. Spudge lay in a softly snoring heap under the table, his head resting on Livie’s feet.

  “Livie, you’re not at school?”

  “Winter break starts this weekend.”

  “So you’re off for what, two weeks?”

  “Three.”

  Gemma let out a growl of frustration. “Yes, Livie’s out of school for three weeks. Can we talk about the important stuff now?”

  Jess ignored her, going to the fridge and peering inside, enjoying tormenting her sister a little. “Like?”

  “Oh, I don’t know...like...how I get a text that my baby sister is going off to meet her mystery man last night and then I get another text letting me know she won’t be home.”

  “I texted you our code word,” Jess protested. “You knew I was okay.”

  “But not a word of explanation! Or maybe we can talk about that huge, expensive SUV that just dropped you off. Who was that driving?”

  “Omar.”

  “Who’s Omar?”

  “The chauffeur.”

  Livie and Gemma gaped at her. “Chauffeur? Okay, sit.” Gemma hauled out a kitchen chair and thrust Jess toward it.

  Jess dropped into the chair and Gemma took the one to her right.

  “I don’t know where to start.”

  “The beginning.”

  Drawing a deep breath, she braced herself. “Okay, the first part isn’t so good. It’s kind of terrible, actually. I got fired yesterday.”

  “What?” Gemma and Livie shrieked in unison.

  Gemma clutched her hand. “What happened?”

  So, to the best of her ability, she told her sisters what happened, the stolen stories, Lauren’s discovery of her innocent meeting with Alex, and the fact that he’d been behind the Twitter feud with her, Mariel’s abrupt firing, and her confrontation with Lina. This time, she managed to get through it without tears, but her throat ached with the effort.

  “I can’t believe Mariel!” Gemma fumed. “How dare she accuse you of something like this when she’s known you for years? She’s got her freaking Pulitzer because of you and this family!”

  “You have to admit,” Livie interjected, “given the evidence Mariel was presented with, the logical conclusion would be that Jess’s been working with their rival.”

  “But Jess would never do something like that. She should know better. I’d like to march over to that paper and give her a piece of my mind. Nobody messes with a Romano sister.”

  The pain of yesterday might not ever fully fade, but her sister’s full-throated defense did a lot to ease the sting. Nothing was ever truly terrible as long as she had Gemma and Livie on her side. And they were always on her side.

  “While I appreciate the moral support, that’s not necessary.”

  “Anyway, I can’t see what your intervention could do to change Mariel’s mind about newspaper business,” Livie said. Gemma gave her a fond smile. Where Gemma was all heart and fierce protectiveness, Livie was a thinker, examining the evidence and drawing her conclusions. Of the three of them, Jess had always been the idealistic, passionate one, but her idealism was feeling pretty trampled right now.

  “Okay,” Gemma said, settling back in her chair. “On to the second big thing. You spent the night with Mystery Man?”

  “I spent the night with Alex.”

  Gemma scowled. “Wait...the guy from the bar the other night, right?”

  “You’ve met him?” Livie looked hurt that she’d missed it.

  “What happened to Peabody?” Gemma interjected.

  Jess sat forward and leaned on her elbows. “Okay, here’s where it gets really crazy.”

  So she proceeded to tell them the rest—all about Peabody and Alex, and the sudden, miraculous merging of the two.

  “But this is the guy you’ve hated for years, right?” Gemma asked.

  “Yeah. I hated him.”

  “And he hated you.”

  “We might have gotten our signals crossed on that whole hating thing.”

  “I could see that coming a mile away,” Gemma said to Livie.

  “What? How?” Jess said.

  “You should have seen the way he looked at her,” Gemma continued, ignoring Jess.

  Livie leaned forward eagerly. “Really?”

  Gemma nodded. “And you.” She pointed at Jess. “You got all...sparkly around him.”

  “I don’t sparkle for anybody.”

  “No, not like glittery. Like...full of sparks. That’s what you’re like around him. Full of sparks.”

  “Is that good?” Livie asked.

  “I don’t know.” Gemma shot a sly grin at Jess. “Was it good, Jess?”

  The helpless smile was back. Jess slumped forward, burying her face in her arms. “Oh, my God, so good. I’m going to hell. I can’t ever step foot in confessional again after last night. God will strike me down.”

  Livie rolled her eyes as Gemma burst into laughter. “Oh, relax. Nobody’s judging you in this house. Especially not when the guy has a limo. That’s his, right?”

  “His father’s.”

  “Thought so. He looked like he had money.”

  “That’s putting it mildly.”

  Gemma’s eyes lit up and she sat up to perch on the edge of her chair. “Really? Like how rich?”

  “You know that cooking network you like to watch on cable?”

  “Yeah?”

  “His father owns it. And the rest of the world, too. At least it seems that way.”

  “Holy shit,” Gemma breathed. “Wait... Alex Drake? As in Daniel Drake? He’s Daniel Drake’s kid?”

  “I don’t know who that is,” Livie complained.

  “You don’t know who anybody is, unless they’ve had some invisible black hole named after them.”

  “Black holes are usually numbered, not named. And technically, all black holes are invisible—”

  “Okay, we get it,” Jess said, bringing the conversational tangent to a close. “Yes, Alex is Dan Drake’s son. Oh, and this morning, five minutes after I rolled out of bed with Alex, I ran into Papa Drake and his latest disposable bedmate in the kitchen while we were getting coffee. There aren’t words for how awkward it was.”

  “Wow. So...” Gemma peered closely at her. “Do you like him?’’

  “Who, Dan? Eewww, he’s as old as Dad!”

  “No, I meant Alex. Do you like Alex?”

  Do I like Alex? Like was far too mild of a word to describe what was rampaging through her heart right now. Her emotions felt like an exposed nerve, leaving her scared and vulnerable, and if there was anyone she could confide that to, it was her sisters. “I like him so much it’s scary.”

  Gemma and Livie were silent as they stared at her, both of them smiling softly in wonder. Then Gemma sat up briskly and slapped her hands on the table. “Well, then you have to bring him to Sunday supper to meet the family.”

  “Wait, wait. I think it’s pretty serious, but Sunday supper is a little too much, too fast. One step at a time.”

  Under the table, Spudge lifted his head and wuffed softly. A second later came the sound of the front door opening and clos
ing. Spudge heaved to his feet and scrambled out of the room.

  “Hello?” their father called. “Anybody home?”

  “Back here, Dad,” Gemma called out, her voice oddly tight and her eyes steadfastly focused on the tabletop.

  Dad came into the kitchen a moment later, Spudge lumbering along in his wake. “Look at this. My kitchen is full of beautiful women!” He cast a beaming smile at all three of them as he made his way to the coffee maker.

  “Hi, Dad,” Jess said, looking from Gemma to him. Gemma was too tense and Dad was too happy. Plus he hadn’t even noticed she wasn’t at work. It wasn’t like Dad to miss something like that. Her spidey sense tingled, but she couldn’t parse out what was going on.

  “Just came back from the bar,” her father said, taking a sip of his coffee. “Had to meet the beer distributor for a delivery. It’s a little earlier than usual, but he’s got to make an extra trip out to Bay Ridge this morning, so he called and asked me if I could meet him ahead of schedule, so I got up early and headed over there to meet him.”

  “Sure. It happens.” Jess scowled, still trying to puzzle out the weirdness. That was a rather convoluted and overly detailed explanation for a boring bar delivery.

  “Well.” John Romano stood at the kitchen counter for another moment, looking around the kitchen like he hadn’t seen it in years. “Think I’ll go catch a little more shut-eye before I have to open up for the day.”

  All three sisters watched him in silence as he left the kitchen. His boots stomped on the creaky wooden stairs, and down the hallway overhead. The distinctive thud of his bedroom door closing broke the tense silence in the kitchen.

  “Dad’s acting weird,” Livie said. “Did you see the way he was smiling? And where did he get that shirt?”

  “That was a new shirt,” Jess said. And not one of his interchangeable plaid flannels. A crisp black button-down—like nothing else in John Romano’s wardrobe. Leave it to Livie to notice something small like that.