The Lying Season (Seasons #1) - K.A. Linde Page 0,61

didn’t have any wrinkles. Sam stuffed his hands in his pockets. He could have whistled, and he wouldn’t have looked more conspicuous.

“Lark!” Shawn cried, walking into the office. Luckily, Shawn was oblivious to most human interaction. “And…Sam, right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Great. I just wanted to pass along a word from Leslie. She said that if we hit our voter registration goal for the Fourth of July, then she is going to give everyone the weekend off. Which means a full Friday, Saturday, and Sunday off.”

“Wow,” I murmured. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had three days off in a row. Campaign life was weird.

“Yeah. So, we’re going to need all boots on the ground. Talk to the field team and see what they need,” Shawn said enthusiastically. “Give them whatever they ask for. We have less than a week of full prep to get as many people out at as many events as possible to get those voter registrations in.”

I shuffled through papers on my desk and found a map of the boroughs. “We already have teams in place for most of the main events,” I explained, handing him the paper. “The structure is already there. But we can get everyone on phones the rest of the week to bolster our numbers.”

“Excellent,” Shawn said with a grin. “Also, I want this office empty on the Fourth. The mayor wants me and Christine to be with her when she’s out at events on the Fourth. The rest of you, she wants at each of these events. Boots on the ground. Making things happen.”

I gawked. “You want us to be out there?”

“Yep! And posting to social media about it!”

I nodded in surprise. Leslie must be desperate about the Reyes primary challenge if she wanted nearly all of her head campaign staff to actually be out in the field.

“Let everyone know,” Shawn said. “Hit our goal on the Fourth, and you all will get the weekend off. Light a fire under them.”

“I will let them all know.”

“I can always count on you, Lark.” He nodded his head at Sam. “Good to see you. Boots on the ground!”

“Yes, sir,” he said.

And then Shawn sauntered out.

I sighed. “Well, this is going to be interesting.”

“To say the least.” He grinned. “But hey, we used to do this every single day in Madison. It’ll be like old times.”

His smile was infectious.

“Maybe. I’d better get back to work if we’re going to hit that goal.”

“Sounds good, boss.” He winked at me as he walked backward toward the door. “Still on for after work?”

I nodded at him. “You convinced me.”

“Good. See you then.”

As much as I wanted to follow Sam back to his place, I had to run home and get clothes for the next morning. There was zero chance that I’d be coming back. And anyway, Sam had said that he could get dinner ready.

“Going somewhere?” English asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Date with Sam.”

“A sleepover?”

I laughed. “Yeah. I finally get to see his apartment.”

“Nice. That sounds like it’s getting more official.”

“I think so. Plus, our boss just said we could take the weekend after the Fourth off. I’m thinking we’ll get a whole lot of…”

“Wait, really?” she asked, suddenly excited.

“Uh…yeah. Why?”

“That’s when I have to be in the Hamptons for Court’s thing.” She waved her hand. “He’s doing that photo op. Some party. But you should come too! I can get all of us out there. Then I might not kill myself, being there with him alone.”

“Oh, the Kensington Cottage?” I said with a grin. “I love that place. I’ll ask Sam if he wants to go.”

“Thank you. Thank god,” she said.

“Is it really that horrible, working with Court?”

She shook her head and blew out a breath. “No, he’s fine. I just know that he’s purposely trying to make my job harder. He can be pleasant. He just isn’t.”

“Sounds right.”

“Well, have a good time,” English said. “I’m just waiting for Josh to call.”

“Have good phone sex,” I called as I headed for the door.

“I will!” she called back with a laugh.

I grabbed an Uber into Brooklyn, and it pulled up in front of a tiny brick apartment building. It was a cute, if not quite trendy, part of the city. This definitely wasn’t Williamsburg. I slung my bag over my shoulder and pressed the button for him to buzz me up. There was no elevator. So, I climbed the stairs to the third floor, glad that I’d opted for Nikes.

The door was unlocked, and I stepped into his apartment