The Lying Season (Seasons #1) - K.A. Linde Page 0,34
I could do it.”
“I don’t just think that you could do it. I know you can. That you’d be kick-ass at it. Plus, you were just complaining about your job. How tired you were of all the same stuff. This would be different. More.”
“I complained in a bar while I was kind of drunk. You can’t use that against me.” But she was smiling when she said it.
She wouldn’t be here if she wasn’t actually interested in the job. I’d known she would be. She also had a JD from Columbia, and though she might be the best in the business in LA, I’d known her long enough to know that she wouldn’t turn down a better option.
“Before you say anything else, I’m starving,” English said. “I texted Whitley on the way in. She said she’d be game for dinner. You think Katherine would be in?”
I frowned. I didn’t think Katherine would. I’d called and texted her a few times since she’d run out of the party Saturday night. She’d been her normal, abrasive self. Claiming that she was fine. But everyone knew fine didn’t actually mean fine.
“She had a falling-out with Camden,” I confessed. “She hasn’t talked to me since it happened.”
A crease formed between her eyebrows. “Why would she be upset about that? I didn’t think she even liked her husband.”
I bit my lip. “I think…she does. Though don’t say anything to her about it. She didn’t seem to even want to admit it. And then, I don’t know…she was seen with Penn, and Camden said he was going to go back to his side piece. I think it’s pretty fucked up.”
English rolled her eyes. “Jesus, they’re a train wreck.”
“Yeah. I’ll text her, but it seems unlikely.”
“All right. Well, I’m changing out of these airport clothes, and then we can go.”
I nodded as I jotted out a text to Katherine.
Fifteen minutes later, when English was ready to go, I still hadn’t heard from her. I didn’t like that at all. She must be even more messed up than I thought.
A bomb had erupted at the center of my crew, and everything felt off-kilter. Katherine was MIA. Penn had jetted off to Paris. I hadn’t heard from Lewis or Rowe at all. I was glad that English was here because, otherwise, I’d be pretty alone.
A short while later, we were settled into a small table at the back of my favorite pizza place on the Upper East. Whitley had complained about how we should have met in the middle, but as soon as she took the first bite, she relented.
“Okay, this is phenomenal,” Whitley said.
I nodded. “Yep. I know. They brought the brick ovens over from Italy. Been in the family forever.”
“The Family,” Whitley asked with a conspiratorial grin. “Like capital F? Italian Mafia?”
“You are such a conspiracy theorist,” English said.
“I am not! The Mafia is real.”
“I don’t think they’re in the Mafia,” I said with an eye roll.
“Are you sure?” Whitley asked. “Because this could all be a front.”
“Well, if they are the Mafia, I’ll be sure to sell your virginity to save the Family,” I told her.
Her eyes twinkled. “A little late for that, but hey, I’d be down.”
English just chuckled as she dug into her pizza. “I’m still just amazed that I’m even here.”
“Why?” Whitley asked. “This is where you belong! Who would want to live in LA when they could live in New York City?”
English arched a skeptical eyebrow. “Like…millions of people?”
“Oh, right,” she said with a shrug.
“Also, you? For the three years you were at UCLA?”
“Yeah…I sometimes forget about that.”
English rolled her eyes, but Whitley continued on, “But hey, I like seasons. New York has all four. When I was growing up in Dallas, they only had two—fucking kill me summer and fucking kill me winter. LA only has one. No, thanks.”
“You’re a strange, strange human being, Whitley Bowen.”
“Why, thank you,” she said, tipping her head at her.
“Well, what does Josh think?” I interjected before we could get further derailed.
“He’s totally on board,” English said with that dreamy smile she had every time she talked about her husband. “He’s spending the summer in London, shooting his next movie. It’s this really intense action film, and he’s trying to do his own stunts. So, he’s super buff right now. He can’t eat anything I make at home, but damn, it might even be worth it.”
“Pictures, or it didn’t happen,” Whitley said eagerly.