The Hating Season (Seasons #2) - K.A.Linde Page 0,7

throat. “Josh and I are getting a divorce.”

Ashley’s jaw dropped open. “What? Why?”

My dad just stared at me. As if…he’d guessed all along that it would come to this.

I stared right back at him. “I found out that he was sleeping with someone else. And I don’t suffer cheaters.”

He had the decency to wince slightly at the words.

“How awful!” Ashley said. She pulled me into a hug and dragged me over to the couch. “I am so sorry. Tell me everything. You must be a mess.”

The last thing I wanted to do was powwow with anyone about the demise of my relationship. But Ashley was sincere, and she wouldn’t tell anyone. So, I divested myself of the information. Let her coo over me like the mom I’d always wanted. Then after I drained my Coke, I made my excuses and got the hell out of there.

My breaths came out unevenly when I was behind the wheel. This time had been worse. So much worse. My dad was exactly the same, and no one saw it but me. Worse yet, Taylor would be in New York. I was not looking forward to having my recently graduated baby sister in the city. Or the promise I’d made to look after her.

An hour and a half later, after driving through fucking horrendous traffic, I parked in front of Poise PR. I’d signed up with Poise the minute I graduated from law school at Columbia. When I’d gotten my film degree, I’d thought that I wanted to be a director. But then quickly realized that held no sway with me and decided I’d get a JD and become a film agent. After interning with a very well-known agency the two summers of law school, I realized that wasn’t what I was interested in either.

Then one of my friends from film school, Lanie, landed a lead role in a small movie. She came to me, sobbing, because they were pushing her around. I went in with all the overconfidence and bluster I could muster and got everything she wanted and more. Lanie was my first client. And I’d brought her with me to Poise when I decided being a publicist was as natural as breathing.

She was probably going to kill me if she found out I was in LA and didn’t see her.

But the City of Angels felt like it was stocked full of demons tonight. And I wanted out as soon as possible.

I beelined for my office. I wanted to grab a few things before I saw my boss, Margery. She had started as a receptionist at another well-known agency, worked her way up to partner, and then left to start her own agency. She had been working in the industry for thirty years and was a bit terrifying.

“Knock, knock,” a voice said, stepping into my office.

“Winnie,” I crooned. “You look as amazing as ever.”

And she did.

Winnie was my closest friend in the agency. She was taller than me with perfect black locks and light-brown skin. She’d grown up in London; she was of Indian descent and had the most incredible accent. She was also a total basket case, cutthroat, and did whatever it took to get ahead.

She reached forward and grasped my hands. “Fuck yes. Look at you, English. Please tell me you’re back. Already, that city has sucked the life right out of you.”

“I’m just pale,” I said with a laugh. “Life has not been sucked out of me. I have a meeting with Margery.”

“About coming back?”

“No. I still intend to stay through November.”

“Aren’t you bored with just one client?”

“If you met Court Kensington, you’d know that boy can keep you busy.”

Winnie winked. “Tell me all about it.”

I frowned. “Not like that.”

“Oh right, the rules,” Winnie said with an eye roll. “I think everyone should bone at least one client. Knocks your superiority down a peg.”

“I’ll take that into consideration,” I said, playfully nudging her.

This wasn’t the first time we’d had this conversation. It likely wouldn’t be the last either.

Because I wasn’t interested in Court. We’d just almost kissed. But we hadn’t. And it wasn’t ever going to happen. Never, ever.

“Okay, on to Margery I go.”

“Is this about the pictures?” Winnie asked.

I narrowed my eyes in confusion. “What pictures?”

Winnie frowned. “Oh god. Tell me you’ve checked your phone today. That you saw TMZ.”

“I…I haven’t. I’ve been a bit preoccupied.”

TMZ was publicist gold. The goal, of course, was to make sure nothing showed up there that you hadn’t sold to them on purpose.