The Lying Season (Seasons #1) - K.A. Linde Page 0,88
be the end.
As she slipped back into Waffles, I stepped forward to go after her. As if apologizing again would fix it. Tell her what had happened and how wrong she was. That it wasn’t what she thought. This wasn’t Melissa again.
But Court stopped me. “I’d let the lady be. It only gets worse from here.”
“It can’t get any worse than this,” I told him, feeling myself fall into a bottomless black pit as Lark walked away from me.
Court sighed. “Here’s some Kensington wisdom: it can always get worse.”
And I feared he was right.
35
Lark
Camden’s limo was finally able to extract itself from the onslaught and whisk us all back uptown. I stumbled upstairs to my empty apartment, prepared to sleep away the nightmare of this weekend. But sleep never came.
All I did was toss and turn and replay Claire throwing herself at Sam. The way she’d cried so prettily and how he had taken care of her as he did. Nausea swept over me, and nothing dispelled it.
At some point, I must have fallen into some kind of comatose sleep on the couch because I was abruptly ripped from it when the front door opened.
“Sam?” I asked before I could stop myself.
But it wasn’t Sam.
My vision cleared. “English?”
She sniffled and wiped at her eyes. “Hey, Lark.”
I sat up with my fuzzy, sleep-deprived brain. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in London for another week.”
She swallowed hard, pushed her carry-on into the living room, and closed the door. “Yeah, I was.”
“What happened?”
Then English burst into tears. I jumped to my feet, forgetting all my woes of the night before and pulled my friend into a hug.
“Shh,” I whispered against her hair.
I maneuvered her back to the couch. She plopped down next to me, completely inconsolable.
It was several minutes before she could even speak.
“I went to the set to see Josh. At first, it was all great. And then…and then I overheard some members of the cast talking about how Josh and his coworker Celeste—you know, the, like, Bond girl of the film—were together. How they weren’t even good at hiding it. How they…they felt bad for me.”
“No!” I gasped. “But Josh is…he’s head over heels for you!”
She shrugged helplessly. “I thought so too. We talk every day. He bought me that apartment. He was so supportive of this job. He was even going to move here before he went on his promotional tour.”
“Did you confront him?”
“Yeah,” she whispered. “Yeah, I did. He denied it. So, I told him that I’d ask Celeste. Get her take on it. Then it all spilled out of him. He said that he didn’t care for her. He didn’t love her. It was just a”—she choked on the next words—“publicity stunt.”
“He did not say that to you. To you of all people.”
She nodded, tears flowing freely down her cheeks again. “He did. The bastard. He said it was to sell the last movie. He actually had the audacity to say that it worked for Mr. & Mrs. Smith.”
“No fucking way!” I cried. “That’s…I have no words.”
“Yeah. I didn’t either.”
“Oh god.”
“I couldn’t stay another second. I packed all my shit up, bought the most expensive first-class ticket on his credit card, and came right back.”
“No wonder you weren’t answering your phone last night. You were over the Atlantic.”
“Answer my phone? Why were you calling me last night?” she asked, scrubbing at her cheeks.
I took a deep breath. “There was a raid on the party last night.”
“What?” she gasped, sitting up perfectly straight with wide eyes. “Were you arrested? Was Court arrested? Fuck!”
“No, no one was arrested. Well, not our friends. Camden knew someone, and they tipped us off. We got out ahead of the police. I don’t know what happened to everyone else.”
English sank back. “Thank fuck. I couldn’t imagine. I’d lose my fucking job over that.”
“I know. I had the same thought.”
“But why was there a raid on a poker game? It was just for fun. Nothing to try to crack down on with a police raid.”
I sighed. “It wasn’t what we’d thought it was. It was a built establishment. At least a dozen poker tables. Plus, blackjack, craps, roulette, and slots. There were platforms for dancers and everything. This place had been in operation for a while.”
“You have got to be kidding me.”
“None of us knew it was going to be like that. It was a nightmare.”
“I’d hate to be the publicist for whoever has to deal with the fallout,” English said.