The Lying Season (Seasons #1) - K.A. Linde Page 0,35
he said it’s only through November. He’ll have some time off after they finish filming. He said we could get a place here before he has to go out to promote.”
“See, it’s perfect,” I insisted.
English smiled briefly. A secret smile I’d seen her use one too many times. She wanted this. But she hadn’t quite convinced herself yet.
“Maybe…maybe it is perfect.”
“Now, you just have to rock that interview.”
Whitley wrapped an arm around English’s shoulders. “As if there’s any doubt our girl is going to blow everyone away! She’s a natural.”
“Fingers crossed,” English said.
For the first time, she actually looked excited about the prospect of being here again with us, doing something more worthwhile than what she’d been doing in LA. And god, I just hoped she really did blow Leslie away. Because selfishly, I needed her here too.
“So, how did it go?” I asked English the next day when she stepped into my office.
“Great!” she gushed. Then her smile faltered. “I mean…I think.”
“If you think it went great, then it did. You know you interview well.”
“I haven’t interviewed like this in years though,” English reminded me. “I interview potential clients, but that’s different. Gah, if I do this, I’ll have to talk to Margery and figure out what to do with my existing clients. Some of them don’t need much, and I can manage them remotely. One or two are kind of a nightmare, and I was going to cut them loose anyway. But there are a few who I think want more from me than I would be able to give from here.”
“You’ll figure it out,” I assured her.
“Yeah. I mean…if I get the job anyway.”
“If you do, then you know it’ll be right.”
English nodded. But I could tell she’d gone from rocking confidence to nerves in a matter of seconds.
She just shook her head. “I think I’m going to go grab some lunch. I barely ate today. Do you want anything?”
“I’m good. I had a bagel.”
“All day?” she asked skeptically.
“Uh, no, I think I had a few of those sour Life Savers gummies. Have you had them before? They’re incredible.”
“Seriously?” She sighed heavily. “Maybe you need a handler too. That’s not enough food for how much you work. I’m going to rummage around in that break room and find you a snack. And then I’ll bring you back real food later. Pho sound good?”
“Divine,” I admitted, my stomach gurgling on command.
She was gone for a few minutes before returning with an assortment of snack food—peanut butter crackers, a chocolate chip granola bar, and some sort of raspberry fig bar. I tore into the granola bar.
She shrugged. “Not that many options. Good thing Sam was there though,” she said with raised eyebrows. “He reminded me that you’re allergic to strawberries.”
A flush suffused my face. “Ah. Well, good. I don’t have an EpiPen on me. Try not to kill me before the election is over. Okay, English?”
“Sooo,” she said with a look of one who delighted in gossip, “what’s going on with him?”
“Girlfriend, remember?”
“Yeah. Ugh! You just seem…okay about each other now. I didn’t know if something else had happened.”
“We have to work together,” I said helplessly. “We’re either friends or something like it or we don’t make it through the election. The latter isn’t an option for me. So…I put it behind me.”
“Whatever, liar,” English said with a laugh.
“Okay, fine,” I grumbled. “When Court was arrested, I had, like…a panic attack. I called Sam, thinking he could help get Court out of the situation.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And well, he didn’t need to because Leslie had it handled. But then he kind of…took care of me.” I shivered at the memory. “Talked me down and took care of some work stuff. Then he walked me back to my apartment. We decided…we were friends.”
“Right. I mean, I’d leave my apartment at one in the morning to rescue you, but I’ve known you for almost a decade. For a coworker?” English made a face that said her colleagues were SOL. “Seems like…there might be more there.”
“Are you encouraging or discouraging me?” I asked her. “Because this sounds like encouragement, and I thought you were against him.”
“I’m way against this,” English confirmed. “Just trying to make you see where your head is really at. Are you and Sam just friends?”
I bit my lip. “We have to be.”
English tapped the raspberry fig bar. “All right. I’ll leave you to mull over your non-strawberry snacks while I go eat some food.”