Something Like Hate - Harloe Rae Page 0,79

events and emotions eventually, but that’s the purpose of tomorrow.

“Well, damn. You might replace Presley in the shitting rainbows department.”

Presley groans while covering her face. “Please don’t talk about poop.”

“And why might that be, Archie? Do you make a mess in your diaper?” Going goo-goo takes the edge off. Archer gives me a gummy smile and my heart melts. He’s such a charmer. I pop my lips at the adorable boy and he giggles. “You’re so handsome. Yes, you are.”

“He’s too young for you,” Clea laughs.

“Hardy-har. You’re hilarious.”

“Someone has to be around here.” She pokes me in the arm.

I roll my eyes. “For your information, I’m taking myself off the market for the time being. The male population—present party excluded—is dead to me. I’m well aware that only a few have done me dirty, but those bad eggs ruined me for the entire lot.”

Presley gasps. “What about finding your soul mate?”

I’m beginning to realize how ridiculous that belief is. “If this mystery man exists, he’ll come to me. I’m done searching.”

“Girl power,” Clea chants.

“I’ll drink to that.” Presley lifts her lemonade.

I tap her plastic cup with mine. “To resurrecting the boss bitch face.”

Clea’s jaw drops. “You took it off?”

“Just for a few hours. He tried to Pretty Woman me,” I confess. They haven’t been properly debriefed on my short trip. “The guy is well versed in the art of wooing. He has the means to spoil a girl rotten, but it’s all a strategy. I got caught in a fairytale moment. He bested me by playing really filthy. At least I didn’t fall for him.”

Clea snorts. “Yeah, right.”

“Okay, maybe one tiny feeling,” I relent. Even fessing up to that causes a deep sting.

Presley bites her lower lip. “Has he called?”

I tip my head back with a humorless laugh, shaking Archer on my lap. “That bastard is too arrogant. He’ll never grovel or apologize.”

She squints at me. “Do you want him to?”

“For my dignity? Yes. But it doesn’t really matter. We’re over and done.” I cut across my throat to validate the meaning. Landon Winters can choke on his regret for tossing me away.

“What about your contracts?” Clea refills our drinks from the sweaty pitcher.

“I guess we’ll wait and see. There hasn’t been word from him according to Vince.” I hold up my crossed fingers.

“Too bad he turned out to be such a dick,” she murmurs.

“It’s really a bummer because he has such a nice one.” A sigh has me sagging deeper into my chair. “I should’ve listened to you.”

Clea doesn’t bother masking her smug expression. “I’m well aware.”

“Now is the time when you let me cry on your shoulder.” My support system has selective hearing.

She lifts a brow. “When was the last time you actually shed a tear?”

I squint toward the sky while contemplating. “Valid point, as always.”

And he’s definitely not wrenching one from me. That smarmy jerk only deserves my venom. With a long inhale, I attempt to muster my initial motivation to strike him down. All I find is a hollow ache. I had a revenge plan, dammit. Now that seems trivial, and extremely weak against his cruel defenses. Pretending he never existed might be my best course of action.

Presley studies me with eerie scrutiny. She almost gives me a chill. “So, what’s your plan?”

I motion along my reclining form. Archer blabs from where he’s perching on my legs. “You’re looking at it.”

“I’ll need my baby back eventually.” She makes kissy noises at the goobering distraction I’m relying heavily on.

“Shhh,” I whisper. “He loves his auntie right now. If you keep wiggling your cans, I’ll be reduced to chopped liver.”

Presley squeaks and pats my head in what’s meant to be comforting. “There, there. No need to get upset. I’ll let you two be. Absorb the good vibes, Van.”

It’s only then that I realize my bottom lip is quivering. There’s a noticeable warmth attacking my eyeballs too. I fan my face, chasing away the hot spikes piercing me. “Good grief, I’m a mess. What has this man done to me?”

Clea is cringing when I glance at her. “I don’t think your story with him is over quite yet.”

I sniff Archer’s head, needing all the warm fuzzies that sweet smell brings. “Please don’t put another curse on me. I can’t handle it.”

“You’ll come out on top, Van. Just roll with the punches.”

“That sounds painful,” I mutter.

She shrugs. “Not if you’re expecting the blow.”

I frown. “That’s part of the problem. He tends to appear when I least anticipate it.”

“This is unacceptable!”

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