Page 122 of Lovers Like Us

I don’t care. I put my earbud in, and go back towork.

Thirty minutes pass and I flag an NDA from a celebrity-obsessed girl who’s prolific on Instagram. Another one sticks out to me, a guy whose SnapChat stories include running throughtraffic.

Then I land onVincentWebber.

Heir to an oil tycoon. His recenttweet:

@CelebrityCrush Maximoff and Jane are weirdly close. You don’t need to apologize. Shit is true. Seen itfirsthand.

Celebrity Crush replied on their realaccount:

@WebTown333 would you DM us? We’d like to get in contact and ask you somequestions.

@CelebrityCrush sure. I could bury thatbastard.

My nose flares, and I stare, unblinking, at his Twitter account. Maximoff slept with this fuckingdickhole.

“I know that look,” Oscarsays.

“What look?” I typeVincent Webberinto the Excelsheet.

“The territorial pit bull look you get when someone is fucking with your guy.” He switcheslanes.

I type in more info. “I don’t like knowing he fooled around with guys who couldn’t give a shit about him.” I shake my head. “Especially given the fact that Maximoffcaresabout people.”Even his one-nightstands.

“That’s why he’s not researching any of this,” Oscar tellsme.

“Iknow.”

Maximoff doesn’t need to know that a hookup is talking shit about him. It’s my job. Not his. I finish inputting moredata.

Vincent Webber just rose on my list. Right beside Jason Motlic, the ex-swimmer.

Find the stalker.My fastest has to be fastenough.

29

MAXIMOFF HALE

Afew hours ago,Janie tried to prepare me for New Year’s Eve at a Dallas nightclub. Hands on my shoulders, she said, “Repeat after me,I, MaximoffHale…”

“I, Maximoff Hale,” I said with crossed arms. Ready for an apocalyptic ending tonight. It’s what Donnelly said: the Hale Curse. What goes wrong will go wrong to the Hales. Now there aretwoHales on this trip, and I was alright with catastrophes happening to me. To mysister?

No fuckingway.

“…will trust Jane Eleanor Cobalt,” shecontinued.

That was easy to say. “…will trust my bestfriend.”

She smiled. “To be the best wing-woman to Luna Hale, which includes copious amounts of fun, a midnight kiss from a stranger, and safety of the highestcaliber.”

I scowled. “Janie—”

“It’s a girls’ night out, old chap.” She lifted her chin. “I’m partying with Sullivan and Luna, and you’re not allowed to hover or protect. They’re my responsibility, and that’sthat.”

I trust Janie with all my fucking heart. So I nodded and gavein.

Spoiler Alert: I lost sight of the girls within twenty minutes. The nightclub is gigantic. Three-stories of balconies overlook a packed dance pit. Colorful strobe lights stroke the swaying and gyrating bodies. A DJ spins on a table, amps blasting my favorite electronicmusic.