The Hating Game

At first glance, The Hating Game looks like your typical enemies-to-lovers romance set in a corporate playground. But don’t let that fool you into thinking it’s all predictable meet-cutes and cheesy lines. Sally Thorne’s debut novel throws you into the daily grind of Lucy Hutton and Joshua Templeman, executive assistants to two co-CEOs in a publishing company. Lucy is the bubbly, colorful foil to Joshua’s sharp, serious, and somewhat intimidating demeanor. They’re like oil and vinegar, constantly clashing in a series of passive-aggressive contests that range from staring matches to subtle sabotage. It’s less about outright hostility and more about simmering tension that’s as entertaining as it is exhausting.

The core of the story is their rivalry for a coveted promotion, a classic carrot dangling just out of reach. This shared goal ratchets up the stakes, turning their back-and-forth into a high-stakes game that blurs lines between professional competition and personal feelings. What starts as petty games—like who can endure the longest in a staring contest or who can irritate the other more without getting caught by HR—slowly morphs into something messier and more vulnerable. Thorne cleverly uses these moments to peel back the layers, revealing that Lucy’s sunny optimism masks insecurities and that Joshua’s cold exterior hides a surprisingly human side.

The novel is at its best when it leans into the chemistry and sharp banter between the two leads. Their alternating perspectives let you peek into their heads, making it clear that what looks like hatred is actually a tangled web of attraction, fear, and misunderstanding. The office setting isn’t just a backdrop; it’s a pressure cooker that amplifies every glance, every word, and every small victory or defeat. You get the sense that the workplace dynamics are a microcosm for the messiness of adult relationships—competitive, confusing, and rarely straightforward.

Stylistically, Thorne’s writing is witty and brisk, with a tone that balances sarcasm and warmth. The dialogue snaps with energy, and the pacing keeps you hooked without feeling rushed. She doesn’t waste time on over-the-top drama or melodrama; instead, the tension simmers naturally, making the eventual shifts in their relationship feel earned rather than forced.

That said, the story isn’t without its clichés. The enemies-to-lovers trope is well-worn territory, and some plot points—like the promotion competition and the inevitable romantic revelation—follow familiar beats. Some readers might find certain character moments a bit predictable or wish for a deeper exploration of secondary characters and workplace politics. But if you’re here for a lighthearted, smart rom-com with characters you can root for (even when they’re being insufferable), this one delivers.

Ultimately, The Hating Game is about the blurry line between love and hate and how sometimes the people who get under your skin the most are the ones who see you the clearest. It’s a reminder that behind every snarky quip and office feud, there’s a person with their own fears and hopes, trying to figure it out just like the rest of us. If you enjoy romantic tension served with a side of sarcasm and a good dose of relatable workplace awkwardness, this book might just become your next guilty pleasure.