The Lying Season (Seasons #1) - K.A. Linde Page 0,50
youth baseball program. Jessi Ramirez has donated another quarter million dollars to assist in our youth soccer program. And the wonderful Court Kensington has been so kind to give a full million dollars to help with our lacrosse, field hockey, tennis, sailing, and crew programs. Court, would you like to say a few words?”
My eyes widened. Court had given a million dollars? Holy shit. English must have really talked him into this. I didn’t think he’d ever donated before in his life.
Court stepped forward, looking every inch the golden boy that English wanted him to be. “Thank you so much, Linda.” He touched her shoulder and gave her the charming smile that won over every woman he came in contact with. “It’s my pleasure to be here today. As many of you know, I played lacrosse, growing up, and even played collegiate lacrosse for Harvard. It’s a sport that I love and believe in. And I don’t think that it should be reserved for the privileged few when it could be enjoyed by all.” He smiled dazzlingly. “That’s why I’m pleased to be here today with Caleb and Jessi to donate to improve these programs. And if you’re so inclined, I suggest you donate today as well. Thank you.”
The crowd applauded for him. Even I did. It was a good speech. I bet English had written it. She certainly looked pleased with herself.
Court shook hands and took pictures before striding offstage toward English. They exchanged a few tense words before Court brushed past her in what appeared to be frustration. A determined look crossed her face. I’d seen that before. She used it with other celebrities when she needed to whip them into shape. And she was trying so hard with Court.
“That was quite a speech,” Sam muttered. “I can’t believe he can just donate a million dollars like that.”
“What’s a million dollars to someone with a nine-digit trust fund?” I muttered, my mind still following Court and English’s interaction.
“I can’t imagine that either.”
I laughed it off. “I don’t think many people can.”
“You’re so different than you were five years ago.”
“Yes, I am. But not because of the money. Money doesn’t buy happiness. In fact, most of the people I know who have it are pretty miserable. And I was the happiest on campaign when I was pretending to have next to nothing. So, I don’t think trust funds make a damn difference, except that they can cover up fuckups like Court.”
“It wasn’t a complaint,” he said evenly.
I noticed English coming toward me out of the corner of my eye. I knew what that meant. “Oh god.”
“What?” he asked, seeing where I was looking.
“English is like…a used car salesman tonight.”
“Have you ever been in a used car lot?”
I frowned. “Well, no, but it’s an expression.”
He laughed softly at my dismay. “I see.”
“Save me,” I pleaded.
Our eyes met. I begged him for his help in that look. I knew that I had agreed to go along with English’s plan…sort of. But now, I was tired. I did small talk all day at work. And though I’d had a good time with Danny, I was more curious about what Court had said about Sam. If it was true and what it meant and whether or not I should ever think about it again.
“Please,” I whispered.
Finally, he nodded. “Act drunk.”
I obliged, finishing off my drink and stumbling a little into him with a giggle. “Sorry.”
He put a hand out to steady me with an amused look on his face. “Looks like someone has had one too many.”
“Lark, hey,” English said when she approached us. “Oh my god, did you get wasted?”
I fluttered my eyelashes at her. “I think…Danny might have given me one too many drinks. I lost count.”
She sighed. “Well, shit.”
“Yeah, but…I’m fine,” I insisted.
“You’re not fine. We should probably get you home and sober. But I have to stay here with Court for a little longer.” She bit her lip.
“I can get her home,” Sam told her.
“Oh no…”
“It’s not a problem. We have work tomorrow anyway. I should probably get going or else I’ll be dead in the morning.”
“Are you sure?” English clearly disapproved but couldn’t say what she was really feeling in front of Sam.
“Completely.”
“All right,” she said on a sigh. “Thanks. I’ll owe you one.”
“Don’t mention it,” he said as he slipped his hand around my elbow and directed me toward the exit.