The Lying Season (Seasons #1) - K.A. Linde Page 0,32
what appeared to be the kitchen with a full wet bar. He poured out way more than a knuckle’s worth of bourbon into each glass. Then he held one out for me to take.
“Uh, thanks,” I said. I took a sip of the drink. It was smooth as hell. Maybe the best bourbon I’d ever had. “Holy shit. This is…great.”
“Yeah. I’ve been saving it for a special occasion,” he said with a shrug. “Guess getting completely fucked over by your girlfriend of two years is a special occasion.”
“Have you been drinking since you got back here?”
He didn’t look sober. But he wasn’t completely gone either. As if he was trying to stay perfectly, comfortably numb.
“Why are you asking?” he demanded, finally meeting my gaze. His eyes were this fierce blue like they might reach out and drown you. “For you or for my mother?”
My own eyes rounded. “What do you mean? I’m not here for the campaign.”
“Yeah, well, you were at the police station last night. Did my mother call you for that too? Did she try to make you become my friend to keep an eye on me? I wouldn’t put it past her.”
“Uh, I have no idea what you’re talking about. I came to the police station last night because Lark was freaked out and called me. I thought I might need to help get you out of there. But your mother had that handled.”
Court snorted and took another long drink. “Yeah, as always.”
“I’m here because I found out you were under house arrest, and I thought it was shitty. Just thought…I’d check in on you. That’s what I do for friends.”
Court narrowed his eyes. He seemed to be searching for something. Something that I wasn’t giving him. “Seriously?”
“Uh…yeah.”
“You just came over to see if I was doing all right?” He seemed unable to comprehend it.
“Yes,” I assured him anyway.
“Shit,” Court groaned. He walked over to the couch and sank into the cushions. “Don’t tell anyone that you’re this nice.”
I laughed and took a seat on the chair adjacent to him. “What do you mean?”
“Especially Camden. He’ll eat you alive if he thinks you’re a nice guy. Be a total jackass around him, and he’ll respect you.”
“Why do you like him if he’s like that?”
Court took another long drink and then set it down on the coffee table. He threw his arms behind his head and leaned further back. “Camden and I go way back. He’s the only person who has always been there for me. My best friend disappeared in college. My dad overdosed. You’ve seen my mother. Penn and I have always been on rocky ground. And now…Jane.” He ground his teeth after saying her name. “Camden is a jackass. I know that. But he doesn’t judge me. I don’t judge him. We don’t have to fucking pretend with each other. We’re way past that.”
“That makes sense,” I admitted.
“Anyway, he’s not all bad. He just doesn’t show anyone else another side of him.” Court cleared his throat. “But that’s not what you’re here to talk about. You want to know about Jane?”
I shook my head. “Nah. You probably don’t want to talk about it. I don’t need to know what happened.”
Court nodded his head once, but he seemed startled. “You…really aren’t here for my mother.”
“I’m really not.”
“Huh,” Court said. “Full of surprises.”
“I guess.”
“So, since I don’t want to talk, tell me about you and Lark.”
I should have seen it coming. But for some reason, I hadn’t. Instead of loathing the idea of talking about it, I actually felt okay. Not okay about what had happened in the past, but I hadn’t ever had anyone to talk about it with.
“Well, we met on the Woodhouse campaign in Madison. I didn’t know who she was. She wasn’t going by Larkin St. Vincent at the time. Just Lark Vincent. If I’d known her real name, I think even I might have put two and two together. My ex’s parents always vacationed at St. Vincent’s Resorts. I’m pretty sure I’d heard of the purses. But she was trying to be someone else. To fit in.”
“Ah, classic,” Court said as if everyone on the Upper East Side had tried that trick. “But it didn’t stick.”
“No. We got close and then started dating. I knew she was hiding something, but she wouldn’t admit it. It came out, who she was, and I think she thought I’d care.”
“You cared,” Court said. “Everyone cares.”
“I cared that she’d hidden who she was. But I understood