Page 50 of The Trouble with Love and Ink
The platinum blonde laughed a little, turning to Reagan. “I thought you said her name is Hailey?” she said in a conspiratorial whisper.
I looked at Beck. Judging by his widened eyes, he realized it right as I did. In the heat of the moment, he’d called me Emily. The iceberg had been spotted. The Titanic was going down on her maiden voyage.
“I am Hailey,” I said way too quickly.
I tried to laugh, but it came out forced. I reeled, grasping for an explanation, but nothing surfaced. I looked to Beck for help, but I could all but see his cogs still whirling, trying to come up with a credible excuse.
I had to say something. All eyes of the group settled on us. “Emily is my middle name. So, he calls me that sometimes.”
I patted his chest like, what a cute rascal I have on my hands. But with the five hard pats, I hoped he received my made-up morse code. Way. To. Go. Dumb. Ass.
“Oh, cute,” someone said.
“Hailey . . . Emily?” The platinum blonde scrunched her nose as she tested the names together.
Shit. They clashed. I immediately thought of the phrase I’d used as fashion advice in high school: black and brown makes a frown. It sounded like a name combination an eight-year-old would string together, or one parent wanted Emily and the other wanted Hailey, so to compromise, they’d picked both. In other words, it sounded like two fucking first names put together because that’s what they fucking were.
“Yeah.” I forced another laugh. “My parents smoked a lot of weed in the nineties.”
Beck’s head snapped my way. I was too chicken to look at the expression. I think I could telepathically hear him saying, God, Lane, shut the fuck up.
One of the guys gave a slow bro nod. “Dope.”
Beck straightened, and I could see his face smooth into his normal calm, collected features.
Here came damage control. “Jesus, Vic. You may want to look into better pest control for the grounds.”
Victoria rolled her eyes. “I don’t know if you noticed, but the resort is backed up to a literal rainforest. There’s going to be wildlife.” She gestured to our surroundings. “Don’t you want the full experience?”
“Does the full experience include an anaconda in my bathroom? Because, if so, I’ll pass.”
“If you weren’t splitting a room with Hailey, I’d have that arranged.” She flashed a dangerous smile that reminded me of her brother.
As the door to our suite clicked closed behind us, I gawked at our living area for the next week. Lanterns with soft lighting hung from a ceiling with exposed beams of rough wood. Sandwiched between two palm plants, a crimson loveseat beckoned. There’s room for two, it seemed to say. The entire space looked like the wilds of the jungle had been tamed only enough for the sake of luxury and romance.
And we hadn’t even seen the bedroom.
I started flipping switches on a nearby wall, hunting for brighter, we’re-just-friends-lighting. Before I could fret too much about spending the evening hours of this trip alone with Beck in a space created exclusively for honeymooners, he popped the romantic vibe with, “Real smooth, Hailey Emily.”
And there he was. The senior level-asshole I knew so well.
“Oh, so it’s my fault you called me the wrong name?”
“I was going to fix my mistake before you went full-on kamikaze.” Beck strode to a coffee table, where the attendants had dropped off our bags. “All I had to say was. ‘Oops. My mistake. I meant to say Hailey.’”
I knew he was right. Knew in my bones the fix could have been so simple, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. “Yeah, and I’m sure your sister would think so highly of you, forgetting your date’s name.”
He laughed, digging in his duffle. “Who cares? Anything would have been better than you declaring your name is Hailey Emily. It sounds made up.”
“Because it is!” I said, exasperated. “And was it my finest moment? No. But if they remember anything from tonight, it will be that you saved me from a snake.” I strode to my suitcase so I could do something with my hands instead of using them to throttle him. “Besides, while you calculated a response to fix the error, I could almost see a loading bar behind your eyes. Just a tad suspicious, Beckett.”
“Oh, great. We’re back to Beckett,” he said flatly.
“Yes, we need things to reset, treat each other like we normally would. Keep things uncomplicated.”
“That’s what you want? To go back to competitive coworkers?”
“Yes, because you almost never call me Emily.” And because sweet, laid-back Beck muddled my brain and lowered my guard. “At work, it’s Lane this and Lane that. But today, when Lane would have been an appropriate response, you decided to call me Emily.”
