The Lying Season (Seasons #1) - K.A. Linde Page 0,52

and presumptuous in my head that you’d want to be with me. Then we were friends after Buns the other day. I didn’t want to ruin that or the event. So, I promised I’d tell you after the event.”

“Wait…that’s why you invited me to burgers?”

“Yeah. I was going to tell you. And then you were so happy and animated. And…I just couldn’t.”

I stepped away from the wall and held my hand up. There was something like fury coursing through my veins. If he’d come to me when it first happened, I would have been there as a friend. I wouldn’t have expected anything. But this…this was duplicitous. He’d held it back on purpose. He’d made me suffer those weeks, wondering what the hell had happened with us. And he was only telling me now because he had to.

“Lark,” he muttered.

“I think you still need time to figure this all out.”

“That’s not what—”

“No,” I said, cutting him off. “I don’t want to be used by you to figure out your problems. I won’t ever be that girl. And you shouldn’t treat me that way.”

“That isn’t what I meant.”

“Yeah, well, that’s how it feels.”

Then I took a deep breath and walked away.

It wasn’t easy. I wanted Sam to tell me how he was wrong, how he should have told me, and how we could fix this. But I didn’t want to hear it. Not tonight. Not after being made to feel like I was the crazy one the last couple of weeks. Or that I was the bad guy, somehow making him jealous when he was perfectly single and couldn’t even let me know.

I was done playing games.

21

Lark

I was still mad the next day.

And the day after that.

And the day after that.

Anyone who knew me could probably see that I wasn’t myself. I was just as dedicated, just as on top of things. But there was a fury to my pace. A lack of calm that I’d always exuded, even when I was at my highest anxiety point.

Demi nodded in front of me. “Got it. I will get right on that.”

“Great. Thanks.”

“Hey, Lark, is everything all right?”

“Peachy,” I said with no enthusiasm as I continued to type away on my computer.

“You seem a little…intense.”

“Aren’t I always?”

“Well, yeah. And I mean, you have an crazy job. I just wanted to check on you.”

I managed a smile that was a bit more like baring my teeth. “I’m fine. Thanks, Demi.”

It was a dismissal, and I saw her take it with a worried expression on her face. I continued my assault on my keyboard before finally finishing off the memo I needed to send out. I sighed heavily and leaned back in my chair. What the hell was wrong with me? I needed to figure out how to let this go. At least, to let it go at work.

The problem was…I hadn’t even told English.

She was living with me, seeing my anxiety-ridden madness, and I couldn’t bring myself to tell her she was right. She’d been right all along. Sam was a bad idea. And if I kept this up, then he’d break my heart like he had the first time.

“Lark,” Aspen said on the intercom. “Call for you on line one.”

“Did they say who it was?”

“Danny Park? Does that sound familiar?”

In fact, it did.

I’d completely forgotten that I’d given him my number. I’d been a bit preoccupied with what had happened after I left the party.

“I got it,” I told Aspen and then pressed the button for line one. “Lark St. Vincent speaking.”

“Lark,” Danny said with his cool, crisp voice. “It’s Danny…from the party last weekend.”

“Right. It’s good to hear from you.” Is it?

“I tried to get your cell, but it kept going to voicemail, and then the voicemail was full.”

I hit myself in the forehead. I’d forgotten about that. I avoided telemarketer calls like the plague and never answered a number I didn’t recognize. I’d been telling myself that they’d leave a voicemail if it was important. Except…he hadn’t been able to.

“Sorry about that. How did you track down my office number?”

“You mentioned that you worked for the mayoral campaign. So, I just called and asked for you. They redirected me to your office.”

Oh. Obviously.

“Makes sense. I hate to cut this short, but I am actually heading into a meeting.”

“Oh, yeah. No problem. How about I call you tonight, and we can talk?”

“Sure.”

I could practically feel his smile through the phone. “Great! Well, if you get a call from a 212 number, that’s