The Hating Season (Seasons #2) - K.A.Linde Page 0,45
a way that she’d actually revealed very little. But it didn’t matter. The tabloid twisted it and likely outright lied about the facts. It was bad enough that she’d gone on record to say, Yes, Josh cheated with his costar, and yes, we’re getting a divorce.
Especially if Josh hadn’t known she was doing it.
A small smile touched my features as I put the article aside. English had gone for the jugular. She was a brilliant fixer… and she could tear someone down just as easily.
I pulled my book back out and was deeply engrossed again by the time English first began to rouse. Her eyes fluttered, she reached for me, and a small noise escaped her lips.
Then she looked up at me with those big blue eyes. “Court?”
“Morning. Or well, afternoon.”
“What are you doing?” she muttered, rubbing at her eyes.
“Reading.”
“Is this a common occurrence?”
I resisted the urge to brush her hair out of her face. “Pretty regular.”
“Huh,” she said, fighting another yawn. “I stayed the night.”
“Well… it’s more like you stayed the morning.”
She stretched her arm over her head and succumbed to her yawn. She reached for my discarded T-shirt on the floor, pulled it on over her head, and trotted to the bathroom. She returned a minute later, still barely awake but a little more fresh-faced. She ambled to her purse and fished through it.
“If you’re looking for your phone, it’s over here,” I said, pointing it out. “It kept ringing off the hook.”
She flushed and reached for it. Her face fell when she saw what I’d already known was displayed on the screen.
“What?” I asked anyway.
She shook her head. “Nothing. Just, uh… nothing. I have to… get to work.”
I put the book down. “We could get breakfast first. Or… lunch?”
“No. I… fuck.” She ran a hand down her face.
And just like that, I lost her.
One second, she’d been here. She’d been Anna. Mine.
The next… gone. Like a light switch.
“Don’t do this,” I said automatically.
Her face closed off. The publicist appeared. “Court, I… we… this…”
“Stop,” I insisted. “We had a great time.”
“We did. I mean, I can’t deny that we had a great time.”
“But…”
She nodded. “But it’s… wrong on so many levels.”
“It’s right, English,” I ground out.
I got out of bed and approached her, but she backed up a step as if I were going to attack her.
“Last night was amazing.”
“It was. I don’t disagree, Court. But I’m still married.”
“Separated.”
“It’s only been six weeks since I found out about Josh. The divorce won’t be final for like six months.”
“Long enough for you to be comfortable enough with talking to the press.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Did you read my messages?”
“I saw one when I turned the phone off. I read the rest in the tabloids this morning.”
“You know nothing,” she spat at me. “You have no idea how I feel about any of it or even why I fucking did it.”
“You could just fucking tell me,” I snapped back.
“This is a rebound.”
The words cut. They hurt the most because they were true. I knew they were. And yet, we worked. But did we only work because we’d both just been royally fucked over and needed someone? Or was it just the sex? Did it have to fucking matter?
“Fine,” I said. “It’s a rebound.”
“Can’t you see that this is going to end poorly?”
“I’m not really thinking about the end. I’m still stuck on the five hours we spent together last night.”
She flushed. “It’s my job to think about and anticipate every future.”
“And how did that work with you and Josh?”
Her hand whipped out and slapped me across the face. The last time she’d done that, we’d fucked for the first time. This time was different. She was breathing hard. Her anger a living, breathing dragon threatening to rip out of her chest.
“You have no right to say anything about Josh. You are the playboy of the Upper East Side. I was literally hired to make you look like a good person. Just because I’m fooling everyone else does not mean that you can try to fool me.”
And there it was.
Right out in the open.
The same old shit. Different day.
“Have you ever seen me with another girl?” I asked her with a cold-edged fierceness. “The months you’ve been working for me, have you ever even seen me flirt with anyone else, except as a joke? Have you had to wake me up with a woman in my bed? Have I missed an appointment because I was getting pussy?”