The Lying Season (Seasons #1) - K.A. Linde Page 0,91

no. No, you can’t just fire him. No, you can’t do this to him. And it made me realize that I wanted to fight for this. Fight for Sam. All the fear and inaction had done nothing but get us to this point. I couldn’t handle this uncertainty any longer.

Without a backward glance, I rushed back to Sam’s office. But to my dismay, I found it was already empty.

“No,” I whispered.

I pulled my phone out and found a text from Sam waiting for me.

I had to leave the building. Call me later.

Fuck. I headed back into my office, mutely taking my coffee from Aspen, and then dialed his number.

“Hey. Sorry. I didn’t feel right, hanging around,” Sam said when he answered.

“I’m going to come with you. We need to talk. Where are you? I can meet you.”

“Lark, no,” he said firmly. “As much as I want to talk to you and figure out where we are after last night, I can’t have you jeopardizing your job. Not for me or for anything.”

“I was just told that I’m irreplaceable. I think I’ll be fine.”

He sighed. “Do you want to find out? Because I don’t think that you do. The campaign is the most important thing in your life. You love it. You love what you do. You believe in Leslie. Hell, I believe in Leslie. I don’t want to see her lose because they fired their best after she followed me out the door.”

I ground my teeth together. He was right. I knew it. But I hated it.

“Okay. After work?”

“Yeah. I can meet you outside.”

I nodded grimly. “All right,” I said, feeling like a failure.

“I am sorry,” he said softly. “About Claire. About all of it.”

“Me too,” I muttered. “Me too.”

The intercom buzzed on my office phone, and Aspen said, “Lark, Shawn wants to see you again before the meeting.”

I checked the time. Still five minutes until the meeting.

“I’ll see you later. Go save the world,” Sam said before hanging up.

I pressed the button for the intercom. “I’ll be right there.”

As much as I wanted to figure this all out right this minute, I had a job to do. I couldn’t throw it all away. So, I gritted my teeth and went in search of Shawn again.

The meeting was painful.

Aspen found out about Sam after the meeting. She apologized over and over again that Sam was gone. But it wasn’t her fault. It was my fault.

The rest of the day was even worse after that. With the primary so close, I was stuck at the office until nearly eleven that night. A full fifteen-hour day. And entirely not sustainable. My brain felt like mush. I just wanted to go home, sleep, and start over. But that wasn’t possible.

Shawn was still working when I finally left the office. I didn’t say good-bye. I just stumbled out, half-drunk on exhaustion.

Sam was waiting there for me. I was glad that I’d texted him to let him know when I’d be leaving.

“Hey,” I said, wiping my tired eyes. “What a day, huh?”

“Not my best.” He sighed. “Not my worst either.”

“Yeah.”

“Are you hungry?”

“Honestly, I don’t even know. I can’t remember if I ate today. Only that I didn’t sleep last night, and I basically feel jet-lagged as hell and I haven’t even fucking flown anywhere.”

“Let’s get you some food. That will help,” he said, gesturing for us to walk.

I didn’t argue. I really didn’t even have it in me to argue. I was used to surviving on little sleep, but this was something else. This was physical and mental breakdown. If I wasn’t careful, I was going to get sick. Last campaign, I’d gotten pneumonia and tried to work through it. I had to be bedridden for four days. It had been torture. I didn’t want that to happen again.

Sam and I stepped into Buns. He pushed me into our regular booth in the back corner and then ordered our burgers. I was half-asleep by the time he brought them over to our table.

“Eat,” he said, sliding my basket toward me. “You’ll feel a little better.”

“Thank you,” I told him. “For taking care of me.”

“Of course, Lark. Always.”

I smiled softly at that. At the way he’d said it. Something sparked in my chest. Hope. It worried me.

But I didn’t speak again until I ate my entire greasy burger and every double-battered fry in my basket. Food coma hit me fresh, and it felt great. I must have skipped lunch or second lunch. I couldn’t remember. I