The Hating Season (Seasons #2) - K.A.Linde Page 0,49

baby bird trying to fly. I had money. And after the divorce was final, I’d have a lot of money. I could do this. Put her trust in my hands and see if we could fly together.

“I’m going to get them for you.”

“What?” Taylor asked, her eyes slightly bloodshot and rounded. “Anna, you can’t!”

“Sure I can. I’m your sister.”

“Yeah… but…”

I waved her off and brought the dress and jacket to the counter. After I paid for them, I passed the black bag to her to carry.

“Thank you,” she said softly. “You know, I’m sorry… about how I’ve always acted. I didn’t know you… I just… assumed you were different than this.”

“It’s okay. I know all about that.”

The words struck a chord. How was this any different than how I’d treated Court? If I could build a new relationship with my sister after all this time, maybe I could repair what I’d done with Court, too.

18

Court

Work wasn’t as abysmal as I’d thought it would be.

Everyone eased me back into it. No one expected me to try to take over the CEO position tomorrow. My office on the top floor was entirely ceremonial. I was pretty sure that I was doing basic work. And oddly enough finding that I enjoyed it.

Even if I hated the office and the desk and rug… and literally everything, except the library. I’d brought in a stack of books from home and replaced a group of legal books. It didn’t have the same uniform effect, but it felt like the only part of the room that was really me. So, I didn’t care.

Perhaps someone would question why Pawn of Prophecy, The Eye of the World, and Mistborn were next to an encyclopedia and accounting books. But oh well.

A knock sounded at my door. That had been happening constantly since I started working here. Not because anyone had anything really for me to do or anything to say, but just to “check up” on me. Whatever that meant. It was getting annoying.

“Come in,” I ground out, pushing away from that stupid desk.

The door creaked open, and Sam peeked his head in. “Hey, man.”

I smiled. Well, this was better than another bullshit person interrupting to “help.”

“Sam, come in. Shut the door behind you to keep out the vultures.”

He laughed. “That bad?”

“You have no idea. Everyone is waiting for me to fail. Or to bail.”

“But you’re not going to, right?” he asked, sinking into a seat in front of my enormous desk.

“Would I have set up the huge publicity stunt around this if I intended to leave?”

Sam shrugged. “I wouldn’t think so.” His gaze shifted around the office, taking in the entire ostentatious thing. “This place is huge. It makes my office look like it’s for kids.”

“You’re welcome to it.”

“You don’t like having the big office in the sky?”

“Not really,” I admitted. “If they’re going to make me do introductory work, wouldn’t it make more sense to have me somewhere else?”

“But you said it yourself, it was a publicity stunt. Of course they wanted you in this swank office.”

“Yeah… it’s just my father’s desk,” I muttered.

“That’s sentimental. I’m sure he would have wanted you to have it.”

I frowned. “I doubt it.”

Sometimes, I forgot that Sam was new to our group of friends. He fit in so seamlessly that it surprised me when he didn’t know me as well as Camden. That he hadn’t been there the night my father died. Or what had happened afterward.

“I’m sure he’d be proud of you,” Sam insisted.

“He wasn’t proud of either of his children a day in his life,” I told him.

Sam sighed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know what your relationship was like.”

“It’s in the past,” I said dismissively. “I don’t like to think about it.”

“I’m sure. Must have been traumatic.”

I met Sam’s searching gaze.

“Are you doing okay otherwise? You seem jittery.”

Jittery. Sure, that was the way to describe it. Mostly, I felt like a fucking idiot. And as much as I didn’t like to think about my dad, I didn’t want to think about English. Just like everyone else, she hadn’t wanted to see me as anything more than what was on the surface.

For a minute, I thought about telling Sam. Confessing to the entire thing. It would probably feel good to get it off my chest. I was only keeping it a secret because I didn’t want English to get fired. Despite everything, I knew her job was important to her. She was damn good at it. And she shouldn’t lose it