“That is definitely grounds for admission to the sadists club.” Amy pats my shoulder. “I can still hate Lucas for you if you want me to. Should I keep him in the permanent hate database?”
I wave a hand airily. “He’s not worth it. He wasn’t worth it all those years ago when he ditched me for our first date, after a year of friendship, and he’s not worth it now.”
Even though I’d have thought a year of friendship would’ve meant something to him. I bite back those words. I honestly don’t even care about what happened between us back then or his silly excuses. I’ve let it go. But Lucas still finds it necessary to needle me every time we run into each other. My jaw tightens as I picture the evening ahead. It used to be so easy to spend time with him. Hanging out with him—in museums, in dorm lounges, in New York City cafés—had been the recipe for a good day, and all our days were good. Now? Nothing’s the same.
“Maybe I should reach out to the sadist and try to talk some sense into him?”
Amy shoots me a doubtful look. “Sure, give it your best shot. But my money says someone who goes to this much trouble to write that note and plant all those belongings isn’t going to be deterred by sweet talk.”
I consider this, and the truth is she’s probably right. “Then I’m going to focus on working efficiently and cordially with Lucas to power my way through this list and be done with it.”
“That’s the spirit.” She winks. “Be cordial with the sexy ex. I’ve seen his picture. He’s definitely dangerously good-looking.”
I stare at her like she’s in big trouble. “Thanks for reminding me he’s too hot for words. Maybe you’re the sadist.”
She wiggles her brows before she heads to her office to, presumably, work on refining a pitch for The Happy-Go-Lucky Sadist concept.
When I reach my three-days-a-week desk, I dive in.
I google Harrison Bates.
But all I find is bare bones info. He owns a building in Brooklyn. He has a brother. If I pay fifty-four dollars, some company will unlock his phone number for me.
There isn’t much more on him, and kudos to the guy for living a life off social media.
Still, it’s time to tackle this shit show.
4
Lola
I give it my best college try, tapping out an email to the landlord and hitting send.
To: Harrison Bates
From: Lola Dumont
Subject: FW: Let’s Break Up Early!
Hi there, Harrison!
How are you? I hope this email finds you well. I’m Luna’s sister, and I understand you’re frustrated with her and Rowan. Is there any chance we can talk about perhaps an easier way for me to retrieve their items? Since she’s out of town and all.
I look forward to hearing back.
My best,
Lola
To: Lola Dumont
From: Harrison Bates
Subject: Re: FW: Let’s Break Up Early!
Sure! The easier way is to wait for her to come back and then Loudmouth and Louder-mouth can do it themselves! And then they’ll lose their security deposit! Also, that’s super nice of you to do it for them. If you get it back, they should give you their security deposit as a thanks!
Harrison
I groan, then find the sexy ex’s—I mean Lucas’s—phone number on the email from my sadistic sister and send him a text.
Lola: I have one day to devote to this sibling assignment. I’ll meet you at their place tonight at seven.
Lucas: Whoa. How about a “Hello? How are you? How have you been, my old friend?”
Lola: Are you really going to correct my social graces at this particular moment? Also, “old friend”? Revisionist historian, much?
Lucas: My memory is irrefutable. There was definitely friendship before you smothered it.
Lola: Ah, yes. I was the sole one responsible for the smothering. You had nothing to do with it.
Lucas: See? My point exactly. But enough about the past. I was hoping you’d at the very least try to ply me with dinner and drinks before you attempted to get me in bed at your sister’s place.
Lola: If I were trying to get you in bed—something that wouldn’t even happen as a way to pass the time during a zombie apocalypse—such a tryst would never occur in my sister’s bed.
Lucas: Ah, my mistake. You did say we should meet at their place, so I presumed you wanted to have your way with me. I guess another reason might be to try to negotiate with Mr. Bates. Perhaps you’ll have better luck. I attempted to rationalize with him.
Lola: And how did those efforts go?
Lucas: I would say “not well” is a fair way to describe them. But I’ll screenshot them so you can see for yourself. Here you go.
To: Harrison Bates
From: Lucas Xavier
Subject: FW: Let’s Break Up Early!
Hey,
This is Rowan’s brother. Let’s cut to the chase and put this mess behind us. What do you need to just hand over their stuff and move on?
Lucas
To: Lucas Xavier
From: Harrison Bates
Subject: Re: FW: Let’s Break Up Early!
Hello Lucas!
I’d have to check my running tab of time lost, creativity sapped, and weeks of writer’s block on account of Loudmouth and Louder-mouth. Hold on.
Be right back . . .
Okay! I calculated it.
How’s $5679?
If that works for you, it’s good with me! Otherwise, have fun! That’s all this is—just some fun and games.
Harrison
To: Harrison Bates
From: Lucas Xavier
Subject: Re: Re: FW: Let’s Break Up Early!
Sounds more like payback. And the answer is no.
To: Lucas Xavier
From: Harrison Bates
Subject: Re: Re: Re: FW: Let’s Break Up Early!
But payback can be fun for all parties involved. I swear!
Gobsmacked, I stare at the screenshot. Amy was right—Harrison is delightfully peeved. Wait. Make that gleefully. I slump in my chair, groaning. “Luna, what have you gotten me into?”
But there’s no time to wallow. The sooner I handle my sister’s mess, the sooner I can put it in the rearview mirror.