The Lying Season (Seasons #1) - K.A. Linde Page 0,18

edgy bangs—out of her eyes. “We’re keeping it.”

“Tonight, we need money,” Shawn added. He pocketed his phone. “If our audience doesn’t like it, then we’re doomed.”

“Come up with something better for me then.”

Shawn opened his mouth to respond, but the mayor held her hand up. “Enough. I put the word back in, Shawn. It stays.”

“With all due respect…”

Leslie shook her head. Then she looked right at me, hovering in the periphery of the room, waiting to see if there was about to be a showdown. “Lark, come in. Remind everyone why we’re keeping the word in.”

“Mayor Kensington is most known for being tough on crime, but her other main platform and personal project is promoting female equality. She could talk about how she’s increased the number of female-appointed officials, worked hand in hand with women who want to run for office, and lowered the wage disparity in the city without saying she’s a feminist.” I nodded at Shawn. “But it’s a word that stands in for all of her great accomplishments.”

“I know,” Shawn said with a sigh. “I’m not saying remove that from the speech, just that we replace feminism with advocate for women’s rights.”

Mayor Kensington closed the speech and nodded at Christine, who promptly exited. Hair and makeup did the same. “It’s fine, Shawn. The fundraiser is our base. If it bombs here, we’ll tone it down.”

He spread his hands before him. “What if Quinn gets ahold of it?” he asked, referring to our major opposition. “Can you stomach a feminism sound bite for the next six months?”

“I’ve had to stomach worse,” the mayor said evenly.

“All right,” Shawn said, knowing when he’d lost.

“Are we ready?” the mayor asked.

“Yes, we’re all set,” I said.

“Mr. Neville is being introduced first,” Shawn said, checking his watch. “We should hustle you down to the stage and get you in position. Go over that line one more time.”

The mayor smiled at him. “I don’t hustle for anything, except votes.”

I laughed. “Hardly.”

“You know me too well, Lark. I hustle for everyone in my city. Just not from one place to another.”

“Everyone should wait for a lady.”

She winked. “If they know what’s good for them.”

We all laughed and walked purposefully down the hallway toward the stage door.

Leslie touched my arm. “Oh, I meant to thank you for dealing with Court the other day when he came into the office. I’ve been so busy preparing for this that I didn’t get to mention it. I know that’s not exactly in your job description.”

“I’ve known him my whole life. Handled with ease.”

“What would I do without you, Lark?”

“I hope we’ll never find out,” I responded.

“Me too, dear.”

My smile was wide, and all the drama with Sam evaporated in that moment. When Leslie said things like that, it made my heart soar. I wasn’t just needed; I was necessary.

This was why I was on campaign. This was why I did it. I wished that I could explain to everyone else what I loved about campaigning. Maybe then I could get my parents off my back about being behind the scenes rather than a politician myself.

But it was working for someone that I believed in, who valued me. It was the joy of packaging and marketing and selling a candidate. To reaching out to thousands of people through phone calls, knocking on doors, volunteering, banquets, rallies, and more. At the end of the day, when all the votes were tallied, there was nothing more satisfying than my candidate winning. I worked hundred-hour weeks for that high. And I’d keep working at it for as long as I could.

“Now, wish me luck,” Leslie said with a smile.

“You don’t need it,” I told her honestly.

Leslie patted my shoulder. “How right you are.”

8

Lark

For all the nerves I’d had all week, the banquet was a hit. Jay Neville had given an amazing speech. Leslie had wowed the audience, as she always did. Donation numbers had gone through the roof. For a whole ten seconds, I could breathe again before worrying about the next step on the campaign trail.

“Awesome job, Demi,” I said as I stepped into the back room to grab my jacket. “This success is all on you.”

She laughed and shook her head. Her curls bounced around her face. “No way. My success is everyone’s success. I couldn’t have done this without any of you.”

“Well, you killed it. It was great,” I told her.

“Thanks.” She beamed. “Hey, a bunch of us are going to go to this pub around the corner to grab