The Lying Season (Seasons #1) - K.A. Linde Page 0,82

chest and invade my senses.

But I couldn’t stanch the rising panic. The rising nausea.

Because in some way, in every way, I should have seen this coming. Claire was going to come home. She would have had her fun in Europe and then realized that Sam—beautiful, wonderful, stable Sam—was exactly the person that she needed in her life. Who wouldn’t recognize that?

And then it would happen like last time. He claimed that he hadn’t left me for Melissa. But he’d invited her to the end of the presidential campaign. She’d stayed in his apartment. He let her infect his mind, and he’d believed her over me. I didn’t know Claire. She’d seemed nice the two seconds I met her originally. But I had no doubt that she could do just what Melissa had done.

Sam could leave me. He could go back to being with her. Perfect little Claire and her perfect fucking violin and her nice, normal family that surely didn’t barge into his life and insult him.

He might have said that I was out of his league. But maybe that was the problem. Maybe perception and reality were too far skewed. And he’d want someone like Claire again. He hadn’t been the one to break it off after all. He spent weeks mourning her departure and not even told me. Hadn’t wanted to tell me.

I felt actually sick, thinking of all of this. But my brain wouldn’t shut up. It just repeated history and all my darkest fears. Like a broken record, hitting those highlights by scraping across my memories with a needle.

The cab dropped me off in front of what looked like a nondescript office building. I’d never been here before. The street was quiet and empty. Not exactly the place I’d expect a party.

Still, I followed the instructions on the invitation and knocked on the door.

“Invitation?” the man asked when he answered.

I held it out to him. He took it, slipped it into his pocket, and gestured for me to walk down the hallway.

“Last door at the end of the hallway.”

“Thanks,” I said with a growing sense of unease.

Was this supposed to be like a speakeasy? That didn’t seem Thomas’s style.

I was regretting coming here. Alone. What if I ran into Thomas again? With my emotions all roiled up inside of me, I didn’t put it past myself to give him a taste of the Lark I had been and cut him off at the balls.

With a deep breath, I pulled open the door at the end of the hallway, and my jaw dropped. I didn’t know what I’d been expecting. A few card tables and a tiny, smoky room, but this was something else. This was established. It certainly wasn’t a few tables that he’d thrown together to get this party going. He had been doing this for a while. There were, at quick glance, at least a dozen poker tables. I could see roulette, craps, blackjack, and even a few slot machines against a wall. Music was playing from hidden speakers with a group of girls in micro minidresses dancing at the center. Platforms had been erected between some of the tables, and girls in bras and thongs were dancing atop them.

This wasn’t some little poker game he’d put together. This was a full-blown casino in the middle of Manhattan. That I’d never, ever heard about.

My gaze slipped around the room. I found Court at one of the poker tables. Camden was standing nearby with Fiona fluttering her eyelashes up at him. He seemed indifferent to her presence. I found Katherine next, not exactly against a wall—she’d never deign to look like a wallflower—but just far enough apart to make it look purposeful. I didn’t see Gavin or Whitley anywhere.

Or Thomas for that matter. Which was just fine by me.

I strode across the room to where Katherine casually sipped champagne. As if her husband wasn’t standing nearby with another woman.

“You made it,” Katherine said when I appeared before her.

“Barely.”

Katherine tilted her head. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.”

“Who do you think I am? I’ve known you your entire life. I can see when something is wrong with you. You’ve lost your glow.” She inhaled sharply, her eyes narrowing. “Did Sam hurt you?”

God, Katherine was too intuitive for her own good sometimes.

“Yeah. Well, no. I don’t know. His ex-girlfriend was waiting for him in his apartment when we showed up. And he decided to stay and talk to her. Told me to go on without him. That he’d be here