Hate the Game

by Holly Hall

  “I’ve meant every word.”

  “Omission isn’t honesty, Theo. It’s sparing someone from a truth you don’t think they deserve. Just . . . respect me enough to give me some space.”

  “Okay.” His hands locked behind his neck as he walked despondently beside me. “Tell me how to fix this.”

  “Take me back to an hour ago. Better yet, let’s rewind time to before I knew you. I wish we’d never met.” It was petty, and it wasn’t true, but it was the only weapon I had.

  Against my better judgment, I stole one last glance of him. The muscles in his jaw were flexed, and emotion shined in his eyes. He looked as torn up as I felt, and I wanted to believe him. I wanted to, while the nagging feeling in my gut told me I couldn’t.

  “I wish I could do that for you.”

  “Then leave me alone and pretend you can.”

  This time, he didn’t come after me. Not after the first block or the third. Not for the entire walk to the L. I somehow made it to the platform with my vision marred by tears, disbelief, and sheer anger. At myself, at him.

  How had I let this happen? I’d known better.

  I chose a place near the back of the car. And when the platform faded into the distance, I willed all the hurt I felt to do the same.

  Chapter 23

  Ava

  “Sonofabitch,” Holland said, the second she opened her door. I hadn’t wanted to risk running into Theo in our building, so I’d gone straight to her place.

  “Took the words right out of my mouth,” I croaked.

  In less than a second, she swept me into her arms and hugged me with every ounce of her being. Then she ushered me inside and to her couch, where my favorite fuzzy blanket and a paused episode of Fixer Upper awaited. The sight brought a fresh round of tears spilling over my cheeks. “Dammit!”

  Holland handed me a box of tissues. “I want to kick him in the gooch.”

  “Thanks for skipping right over sympathy and straight to revenge.”

  “I’m so pissed for you. And pissed at myself! Why didn’t I see that coming?”

  “Same.” I blew my nose. “Gullible ‘til the end, I guess.”

  “Tell me what happened. Start from the beginning,” she said, going into the kitchen. She rummaged around while I recanted the day’s events, then reappeared with a mug of something.

  “Is this coffee?” I took a sip. It was cold.

  “Chocolate milk.”

  I took another sip. “Are you five?”

  “Tell me a problem that can’t be solved with chocolate milk. I’ll wait,” Holland sassed.

  “It is pretty good,” I admitted through tears.

  “How did Theo seem during all this? Was he indifferent? Empathetic?”

  “He seemed . . . regretful. But what am I supposed to believe? I don’t know what was real and what wasn’t!”

  Holland’s brow furrowed. “He said he couldn’t go through with it. Did he ever tell that asshole—Pierce, was it?—that he couldn’t?”

  “I don’t know, I didn’t let him finish. But how can I believe anything he said? That could’ve just been damage control.”

  “True.” She chewed her lip, staring off into the distance.

  “What? You’re not siding with him, are you?”

  “Of course I’m not.” She gripped both my hands in hers. “I just wonder if there’s any truth to what he said, about rethinking it.”

  “I can’t afford to think that way right now. I can’t,” I said weakly, my throat tightening. I had to handle one thing at a time—man-hating came first, then all the rest.

  “Right. Do you want me to send Cade and his friends over to punch him in the gooch? Because I’m sure he would. Cade adores you.”

  “No.” Betrayal rested heavily on my shoulders, but for the first time since the bomb dropped, I cracked a small smile. The sight of Cade and his posse showing up to save the day, like knights in shining football pads, was comical to me although it’d be intimidating as hell to anyone else. “Cade doesn’t need to lose his career over something like this.”

  “Oh, please. He’s a PR dream. There’s nothing his smile can’t fix.” She picked up the remote and started browsing the television guide, before she said, “Shit, I totally forgot he’s coming by tonight.”

  “Cade?”

  “Yeah. He’s dropping off tickets for the game tomorrow. You should come!”

  I groaned. My mind and body both felt like they’d been thrown on the tracks and run over by a train. I couldn’t pretend everything was A-okay in Ava Land.

  “Maybe next time,” Holland said, taking the hint.

  “Maybe in a few weeks, after the soap opera my life has become ends for the season.”

  “Oh, Ava.” My eyes had started welling again, defying the laws of dehydration by crying—if there was such a thing—and Holland wrapped an arm around both my bent knees, hugging them to her.

  “Why am I still crying over him?”

  “Because it only happened like an hour ago? And it wasn’t like he gave you any closure. He started your relationship with a lie, essentially, and left you wondering whether anything was real. You deserve some time to recover.”

  “This is why we made the Hubby List. To prevent things like this.”

  She scoffed. “That thing was a complete joke. I mean, it’s good to know what you want, but you can’t live life by a list, Ava. Reality just doesn’t bend to idealistic rules.”

  “It would be a hell of a lot easier if it did,” I said.

  Holland gathered me to her side, holding me like a sister would and giving me all the time in the world to mourn the rosy dream I’d woken up from. And later, when a knock sounded at her door, she said, “I’ll keep him in the hallway.”

  I nodded and made sure I didn’t have snot on my face. I wasn’t afraid of Cade’s judgment, but I was ashamed about what happened and the role I’d played in it. I’d meddled in someone’s personal business, their love life, and they’d meddled back. I should’ve expected the consequences.

  A wedge of light filtered in from the hallway, and I saw Holland’s and Cade’s shadows moving across the floor while they spoke. Then Cade’s voice rang out, loud and clear. “Do you want me to punch him in the taint, Ava?”

  Maybe it was childish, but it elicited a giggle from me. “Thanks, but no.”

  “Offer still stands!” he said.

  Holland returned to the couch a minute or so later, after he’d gone. “I told you.”

  “He has a heart of gold.”

  “He does. Now, let’s lose a few brain cells to mindless TV,” she said, putting on a reality show.

  I wished it were as easy to lose all memory of this day.

  Chapter 24

  Ava

  I dragged my feet on the way into work, feeling the weight of the past few days bearing down on my shoulders. I needed (in no particular order): a long bath, ice-cream therapy, a trip to the bookstore, a vacation, a massage. . . Theo.

  Dammit. I didn’t need him! He’d won over my trust, and now I had to retrain myself not to want to run to him for comfort.

  “Who rained on your parade?” Eddie said, interrupting my pity-party.

  “Nobody. I’m just tired.”

  “I can tell. Did you forget to put on makeup today?”

  I dropped my tote on the floor, ignoring the cringe-inducing sound my laptop made as it hit the ground. “That was purposeful. But thanks for noticing.”

  “You know the no-makeup makeup look is usually achieved with lots of makeup, right? Or so the Beauty team says.”

  “Can you go back to doing whatever it was you were doing before I walked in?”

  “Ouch. Sorry.” He let out a sassy, last-resort rawr, but he didn’t continue to bother me. Eddie’s best quality was that he always said what he meant. Which was also his worst quality, if you weren’t prepared to hear it. Case in point: me this morning. I didn’t need to be told I looked like shit, because I felt like shit.

 
I pulled out my phone to turn it off. The last thing I needed was for it to ring and my imagination to jump to conclusions. I didn’t want to entertain hopes of Theo calling while I was trying to focus on the one thing that would distract me from, you guessed it, Theo calling.

  On second thought. . . I pulled up my contact list, and my thumb hovered over his information. With a swift click, I blocked him. There. I didn’t need to have the last word, because I was the bigger person. And I was sooo over him.

  Case closed.

  End of story.

  A sigh came from Eddie’s direction, only it didn’t sound anything like Eddie. “Ava,” Leigh said, pausing to brace her hands on the table across from me. “I need all hands on deck today to wrap up this week’s newsletter. If you’d rather be on your phone, do me a favor and leave.”

  I blinked, half dazed. “I was turning it o—”

  “I don’t care. I need your ‘Five Tips For Holiday Dating’ on my desk by,” she straightened and looked at her smart-watch, “yesterday. Get it to me now.”

  My mouth didn’t catch up to my thoughts until a few seconds later, and by then Leigh had disappeared. Eddie didn’t even try concealing his shocked expression. He just stared at me with mouth agape and dropped his pen on the floor for dramatic effect.

  Tucking a stray hair behind my ear, feeling my emotions multiplying at maddening speeds inside me, I said, “I’m not fucking doing this today.” I pushed up from my chair and snapped my laptop closed. Eddie’s deer-in-the-headlights look intensified.

  I could’ve left. I could’ve walked right out of there and told Leigh to shove her bullshit dating guide right up where the sun don’t shine. I chose to do something better. I marched to her office with the intention of blabbing every critical thought I’d had throughout my tenure at LoveLeigh.

  “Look, Leigh,” I started, but when I scanned the room, I saw her chair was vacant. Her computer screen was still dark, like she hadn’t returned to her office at all.

  “What the fu—”

  “I think she went to the bathroom,” Mona said gently, appearing beside me.

  “Oh. Okay.” So much for making an entrance. “I guess I’ll wait.”

  “You’ll be waiting a while. She’s in there for one of her regularly scheduled meltdowns.”

  “What?”

  Mona inspected her cuticles. “She throws a fit in the bathroom at the end of every season. This one is a bit premature, but it’s almost that time. I’d stay out of there if I were you.”

  My nostrils flared. Leigh wasn’t allowed to escape the hell she’d created for a nice little cry in the bathroom if none of us were. I handed Mona my laptop, which she took questioningly, and tightened my sloppy ponytail before taking it back. “Wish me luck.”

  “You’re not—”

  “I’m goin’ in.” I stalked out of the office doors and down a short hallway to the communal bathroom. Before I even entered, I heard the sobbing. They were the heaving kind, anguished and heartfelt. Not at all the bitch-fest I’d been expecting.

  I eased the door open and noticed all stalls were vacant but one. The largest, of course. When I stepped up to the door and knocked, a disembodied voice snarled, “Occupied!”

  “Sorry, but,” I began, my voice quaking. I cleared my throat and injected every ounce of strength I could muster into my next words. “You’re gonna have to cut this one short, Leigh.”

  The sobs slackened, and Leigh’s tone quivered when she said, “What?”

  “You heard what I said.”

  A slice of blotchy face appeared as the stall door opened a crack. “I thought that was you, but you normally don’t have the balls to talk to me that way.”

  “Well, I do now. We need to talk.”

  “Later.”

  “No, not later.” I caught the door as she tried to close it and winced as my hand was sandwiched.

  “If you’re asking for another extension on the guide, you can drop your request, as well as a bag of cookies from Nana’s Bakery, on my desk.”

  “I don’t give a shit about the guide, and if I’m being honest, I’m finding it hard to give a shit about everything else.”

  She released her grip on the door. “You want to repeat that?”

  “Yeah, I do. This assignment is bullshit. It’s like you’re coming up with all the ways you can think of to keep a toddler entertained, only the toddler is a twenty-five-year-old woman who is more than capable of doing the jobs of half the staff in our office.”

  She blinked at me a couple times before flicking a hand disinterestedly. “Save it for your performance review, Ava. I don’t have time for a tantrum.”

  “You’re going to make time, because you know what? I’m tired of trying to guess what you want from me.” The floodgates were opening, and there was no going back. “You placed me in a soul-sucking role with no real expectations or job description and expected me to read your mind and somehow excel. When you criticize me, you don’t offer any feedback on how I can improve. It’s like a stab in the dark, trying to please you, and when I started noticing I was the only one who cared about the Relationship branch, I also realized I didn’t really care at all.

  “Because this dating program is a scam. We’re frauds. We don’t offer any long-term guidance, we just make our clients look as good as they possibly can to trick anyone who gets close enough.” The last words came out in a rush, and I held my breath for her response.

  “And yet, this is only coming up now,” she said evenly.

  “Because of your holier-than-thou attitude. What kind of boss accepts no feedback?” She rolled her eyes, and that was enough to blow the top off my anger completely. “Not to mention, your dating formula sucks. It’s stagnant and clinical, without any room for emotions and chemistry and heart.”

  “Now you’re just being petulant.”

  My shoulders dropped. “No. I’m overworked, I’m tired, but I’m not petulant. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been grateful for this opportunity—”

  “Until you’re not.” Leigh turned away from me and began touching up her lipstick.

  “It’s hard to be grateful when I feel like I’m the passenger of a sinking ship.”

  I thought I saw her lip wobble, but it could’ve been a trick of the fluorescent lighting. Then she was burying her face in her hands and sinking to the floor. Leigh Everstone, on her ass in a public restroom. Just when I thought I’d seen it all.

  The shake of her shoulders lured out my sympathy. I knelt beside her, right on the tile, and laid a hand on her arm. “Hey, I’m—”

  “Don’t you dare say you’re s-sorry,” she said through tears. “Not when you finally grew a motherfucking backbone.”

  My head wrenched back on my neck. Wow. Leigh Everstone was a cold bitch, not that that was news, but I hadn’t expected that in response to an apology she didn’t deserve.

  I tried a gentler tone this time. “Is everything okay?”

  “No. It’s bullshit, like you said. It’s all bullshit.”

  “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  Her hands dropped to her sides. “Yes you are. My priorities are screwed. I’m screwed.”

  My eyebrows scrunched together, and I momentarily forgot this conversation was supposed to be about me. “Now I’m lost.”

  “Readership is plummeting, interaction is dismal. We seem to lose a follower for each one we gain. The market is changing, and we’re being left behind.”

  “I had no idea.” I had a little bit of an idea, if the frenzied morning meetings and blog-post flops were any indication, but now was not the time to bring that up.

  “You wouldn’t,” she said, and despite the humbling moment, there were still traces of venom in her tone. Which brought me back to the matter at hand. I was surprised to find out the company was doing so badly, but I was less surprised that so many of us were in the dark about it. Our office was extremely segregated and I’d have never known anything about the other teams if it weren’t for Eddie.
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br />   “Are we going to be okay?” I chanced to ask.

  “Probably not.”

  I sucked in a deep breath. My instinct was to cower. After everything, I wanted to crawl under a rock and wait for the storm to blow over. But I was sick of being a victim of circumstance. If I wanted change, I had to initiate it. She might’ve been the gatekeeper, but I could seize the keys. Or find another gate.

  “We should call a meeting, the sooner the better. We can fix this.”

  Leigh scowled. “A meeting? I can’t just tell all the people I employ that the bus they’ve been riding on, dedicated their lives to for years, is about to be stranded on the side of the road.”

  “No, you’re right. You can’t do that. But you can use every resource you have to get this bus back on the road.”

  “I’m out of resources,” she snapped, adjusting her legs to stand.

  “You’re not. Look around you.” Leigh took what was meant to be rhetorical literally and looked around at the dingy walls of the restroom. “I mean, not right now, but in your office. You have so many creative, intelligent people at your disposal. You just have to utilize them differently.”

  “I don’t need your advice on how to be a boss. If you haven’t noticed, you aren’t one.” She checked herself over in the mirror, smoothing her blazer and the lace cami underneath, before turning toward the door. “Thank you for this little distraction. Now I have to figure out how to put out this fire.”

  I was losing her. In a few seconds she’d be out the door and back in the office, back to the Leigh who incited fear when she was around and gossip when she wasn’t. I couldn’t lose her when I still had more to stay.

  “I know how we can do this,” I said, confidence in my tone. “Most of the team has been with you since the beginning, and everyone has a dog in this fight. So we all take ownership of it. I’d love to do more outside the dating field. I’ve been writing pieces in my spare time, posts that speak to your target audience—”

  “You’re writing blog posts in your personal time?”