Hate the Player: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romantic Comedy(102)

She nods. “Yep.”

“You do realize it’s Thursday, right?”

“Uh-huh.”

“That’s two days away.”

“I’m aware,” she answers casually, like it’s no big thing that she’s throwing an engagement party in two freaking days.

And, seriously, an engagement party?

“Not to be a party buzzkill, but mind explaining to me why you’re throwing an engagement party when you’re a week out from your due date?”

“Because we never got to have one.”

I scrunch up my nose at her. “You don’t think that maybe you should wait until after the baby is born?”

She shakes her head. “Nope. I think now is the perfect time.”

“Billie.” I stare at her in absolute confusion. “How long have you known about this party?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugs and takes another bite of her cookie. “A while, I guess. But it’s all planned. I have a caterer coming, and our guest list has been notified. So, you better fucking be there.”

“A while? What the hell, Billie? Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “Maybe the same reason you didn’t tell me about your relationship with…you know who…until after I had to find out about it in a gossip article, and how you consistently refuse to talk about why you’re so fucking miserable these days.”

“I’m not miserable,” I lie.

She eyes me with a scrutinizing stare. “Get real, sis. You’re a regular Debbie Downer.”

“How am I a Debbie Downer?” I retort. “I’ve been back in LA for a week, and all I’ve done is spend time helping you with all sorts of shit.”

“I never said you weren’t helpful,” she corrects. “And I certainly appreciate all your help. I just said you were a heartbroken sad sack who walks around with a perpetual frown on her lips.”

“I’m not heartbroken,” I disagree, and even I know that’s a lie.

I am fucking miserable and heartbroken. I can’t stop thinking about him. I can’t stop replaying our conversation in Memphis. I can’t stop the stupid memories of his teasing jokes and playful smile from filling my head. And I certainly can’t stop the media’s current obsession with the two of us. Despite the statement his publicist put out, they are still hoping we’re secret lovers, waiting and watching to catch us together.

Obviously, they’ve obtained exactly zero footage of that.

“Get real.” Billie rolls her eyes. “I can’t even mention his name without you losing your shit.”

“Whatever,” I mutter and go back to organizing the baby’s clothes. Knowing full well this conversation isn’t heading anywhere good.

“All I’m saying is since you missed my baby shower, your ass better be at my engagement party.”

“I missed the baby shower because I was in Memphis.”

“I know that,” she concedes. “But my engagement party is in two days, and you’re here. In LA. So, you have zero excuse.”

“Is there a gift registry for this damn party?” I question and glance over my shoulder at her.

“Nope,” she responds, and a victorious smile slides across her mouth. “The only gift I need from you is your beautiful presence at my party.”

“Okay. I’ll be there.”

“Fantastic.” Her smile grows. “And if you don’t mind, it would be great if you’d consider actually smiling and laughing and finding some joy while you’re there too.”

“Billie, I already said I’d go.” I sigh and pick up another onesie to fold. “How about you leave it at that instead of annoying the fuck out of me?”

“Fine. Fine.” A soft laugh escapes her lips. “Whatever you say, sis.”

I make a mental note that once she has the baby and I know she’s all settled at home and things are going smoothly, I’m going to hold Neil to his offer. The one that involves me taking a four-week breather in my schedule to escape to a tropical location—away from everyone and everything.

And by the time I finish organizing the baby’s clothes in the nursery, I even pick up my phone to update my team on my plans.



Me: Neil, I’m ready to take you up on your offer and schedule in four weeks of uninterrupted time to enjoy a vacation. I want to go to Fiji, and I’m thinking I’ll be ready to go off the radar in about three weeks. Go ahead and start working out the details for me. Please and thank you.



The instant I hit send, I’m convinced this is exactly what I need. Besides finally meeting my future niece or nephew, this gives me something else to look forward to.

More like something to distract you from thinking about him…





Birdie



This is the craziest engagement party I’ve ever been to.

My sister and Luca’s home is filled with about fifty other people—work acquaintances, friends, lots of Hollywood types, among some other people I don’t really know.

Besides the two caterers keeping the kitchen stocked in appetizers and drinks, there is no gift table. No cake table. No decorations. And no music in the background creating a celebratory ambiance.