Sure Thing was recent-ish-ly featured for Books on Sale. Since I’m the one who usually puts these posts together, it can be a work hazard. But shit, it was 99c! It also had some promising reviews on Goodreads and the quotes people pulled had me interested. It sounded fun!

After finishing the book and sitting with my thoughts for days, though, I have no idea if I enjoyed it or not. Like I said, I finished it. That should count for something. For every moment that seemed to irk me, there’d be an adorable scene or great piece of dialogue that kept me going, but after weighing the pros and cons, it became obvious I had way more negative things to say than positive.

Violet Hayden is a twin and her life is in turmoil. All in one go, she lost her new condo, her boyfriend, and her job. She’s always been the good twin, but her sister Daisy gives her a giant push to take risks and do something unexpected. Like have a one night stand and then also pretend to be Daisy at her tour guide job so Daisy can do whatever it is that she does (we never really find out why she needed Violet to do the ol’ twin switcheroo).

The one night stand goes well, even if it’s a bit awkward at times. She sleeps with a hot British guy named Jennings, thinking she’ll never see him again. She even gives him a fake name. But when Violet shows up to work posing as Daisy, the Brit is there with his “nan.” As part of a yearly ritual, Jennings takes his grandma on a vacation, which is really very sweet. This time, the two of them are going on a week-long bus tour to several historic sites from D.C. to Philly.

Jennings is actually glad to see his mystery woman again, but things quickly become complicated given that Violet is masking his identity. Jennings is too. In fact, he’s the CEO of the travel company Daisy works for.

I was worried that the forced proximity with a bus full of tourists and an anxious Violet was going to tip the romance into madcap territory, but it never gets that silly. However, it is a romance where both the hero and heroine’s relationship are built on lies regarding their identity. It didn’t bother me too terribly until the very end when things get “resolved.” I’m using that term loosely.

There were a few things about Violet I truly didn’t like. I have a good tolerance for prickly heroines. What I don’t have a tolerance for is being unnecessarily judgmental and rude. Violet refers to her sister as the slutty one on several occasions. In fact, that’s what the book opens with. I know there are movements to reclaim the word “slut,” and I’m all for it, but Violet’s usage wasn’t empowering. Instead, she was using it to highlight how she was the “responsible” sister, the “good twin.” Can a person not be responsible and good and have a large number of sexual partners? What makes Daisy slutty? That she has casual sex? Or can have sex with people without needing a romantic attachment?

I was not a fan.

Violet also assumes immediately, without really having any evidence, that Jennings is a mooch who doesn’t have a job and is using his rich nan to take him on vacations. She says this to his face. Jennings doesn’t bother to correct her, but, like, what the hell?

There’s never a question of Jennings being unable to pay for things. When they meet at the bar for the first time, Violet makes a joke about his expensive suit. He even buys her a drink. How do any of those things communicate that he’s financially strapped and has no source of income? Jennings is also a decade older than Daisy (thirty-six to her twenty-six) and gives off the impression of having his shit together.

Of course, one can never assume someone’s financial standing based on outward appearances, but I found Violet to be quite harsh with how she thought about people.

The biggest problem I had with the romance was how the mutual lying was resolved. Jennings makes it clear that he hates being lied to, so when Violet’s deception comes out, he’s rightfully upset. However, he’s a goddamn hypocrite.

Violet confides in him that she lost her job, relationship, and condo in one day. She worked for a company and was in a relationship with an employee, who happened to be the owner’s son. The company announced it was relocating and cutting down staff. Violet was laid off and her boyfriend moved to go where the business went. Because Violet lost her job, the condo she was looking to purchase fell through because she had no foreseeable source of income.

Knowing all this, Jennings doesn’t tell Violet that he owns the company he thinks she works for when she’s posing as Daisy. Even at the end, he offers her a job (as herself), not giving much consideration to her past experiences. When Jennings’ identity comes out, Violet literally has zero negative response. Some surprise, sure. But no anger or irritation.

The imbalance is striking. He ghosted her when he found out her lie. She was really upset about it! But when she learns he has done the same thing to her as she did to him, it’s like Jennings revealed he preferred chocolate ice cream over vanilla.

As a heroine who wanted to take more agency in her life and to stop playing things safe, Violet missed important opportunities to own her emotions. I felt her efforts to grow and change were superficial. When presented with Jennings’ own lies, she did nothing and became a doormat to the hero’s treatment of her.

Lastly, a warning that Sure Thing ends with one of my least favorite things in romance:

If you feel the same, but still want to pick this one up, you can skip the epilogue. It doesn’t add anything to the story.

I swear I have good things to say about this book. Well, maybe one good thing. It was…charming at times. Violet and Jennings have a good rapport and can be adorably playful.

“Okay then. We’ve got a deal.”

“A sex deal?” I [Jennings] ask, wide smile on my face. “How kinky.”

“You said you weren’t going to be trouble,” she says drily with a tilt of her head and a lift of her brow in challenge.

“Fair enough, that I did.”

“Go join your grandmother, Jennings. I’ll deal with you later.”

Jennings is cheeky with Violet on a regular basis and it often left me smiling, but that’s usually the only smiling I did. The rest of the time it was “what?”, “why?,” and “okay, I guess.”

I’m glad it was only 99c I spent on this romance. If I had spent any more, I think my review would have been much more angry. Even after writing my feelings out, I’m still struggling with how to define my reading experience. It wasn’t egregiously bad, but I was let down. I’m not mad, just disappointed.