The Hating Game by Sally Thorne EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Author: Sally Thorne
- Genre: Humorous Fiction, Australia & Oceania Literature, Contemporary Women Fiction
- Publish Date: 9 August 2016
- Size: 2 MB
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Status: Avail for Download
- Price: Free
I have a theory. Hating someone feels disturbingly similar to
being in love with them. I’ve had a lot of time to compare love
and hate, and these are my observations.
Love and hate are visceral. Your stomach twists at the
thought of that person. The heart in your chest beats heavy and
bright, nearly visible through your flesh and clothes. Your
appetite and sleep are shredded. Every interaction spikes your
blood with a dangerous kind of adrenaline, and you’re on the
brink of fight or flight. Your body is barely under your control.
You’re consumed, and it scares you.
Both love and hate are mirror versions of the same game—
and you have to win. Why? Your heart and your ego. Trust me,
I should know.
It’s early Friday afternoon. I’m imprisoned at my desk for
another few hours. I wish I was in solitary confinement, but
unfortunately I have a cellmate. Each tick of his watch feels
like another tally mark, chipped onto the cell wall.
We’re engaged in one of our childish games, which
requires no words. Like everything we do, it’s dreadfully
immature.
The first thing to know about me: My name is Lucy
Hutton. I’m the executive assistant to Helene Pascal, the coCEO of Bexley & Gamin.
Once upon a time, our little Gamin Publishing was on the
brink of collapse. The reality of the economy meant people
had no money for their mortgage repayments and literature
was a luxury. Bookstores were closing all over the city like
candles being blown out. We braced ourselves for almost
certain closure.
At the eleventh hour, a deal was struck with another
struggling publishing house. Gamin Publishing was forced
into an arranged marriage with the crumbling evil empire
known as Bexley Books, ruled by the unbearable Mr. Bexley
himself.
Each company stubbornly believing it was saving the
other, they both packed up and moved into their new marital
home. Neither party was remotely happy about it. The Bexleys
remembered their old lunchroom foosball table with sepiatinted nostalgia. They couldn’t believe the airy-fairy Gamins
had survived even this long, with their lax adherence to key
performance indicator targets and dreamy insistence on
Literature as Art. The Bexleys believed numbers were more
important than words. Books were units. Sell the units. Highfive the team. Repeat.
The Gamins shuddered in horror watching their boisterous
new stepbrothers practically tearing the pages out of their
Brontës and Austens.
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