The Hating Season (Seasons #2) - K.A.Linde Page 0,73

“No judge in the country would hold that non-compete up in court.”

“Then, I’ll see you in court,” Margery said, her eyes narrowing. “I made you, English. I own you. You’ll find doors aren’t quite so open to you without Poise behind you.”

“No one owns me anymore, Margery,” I bit out and then hung up without letting her get in another word edgewise.

My hands trembled as I stared down at my phone in shock. I’d done it. I’d quit.

Oh fuck, I’d quit.

What the fuck was I going to do now?

The trembling went from my hands to my entire body. Anxiety spiked through me. Terror hit me. I had no plan. No idea what I was going to do.

I needed to get out of this apartment. I needed… Court.

It took me a minute before I remembered that he was at work. I’d been avoiding his work. Letting him have that space alone. Especially because there were cameras everywhere and I’d been worried someone would see us.

But now, what did it matter?

I grabbed my purse and hustled out of my apartment. I dived into the first cab and drove downtown to the Kensington Corporation building. I paid and then hastened inside. The elevator dropped me off on the top floor. Court didn’t have a secretary or anything since he was still acclimating to the work. So, there was no one to stop me from barging into his office.

Court’s head popped up when he saw me. His brows furrowed. “English?”

I pushed the door closed behind me. My body still shook uncontrollably. My anxiety had gone into full-on panic attack in the car. I felt out of control. I knew exactly why this was coming on, but I felt helpless to stop it. Nothing could fix this.

Court didn’t wait for my response. He jumped out of his chair and came to my side. “Are you okay? What happened? You look like sick.”

He moved me across the room and pushed me into the chair in front of his desk. Then, he bent down in front of me and took my hands.

“English, breathe. Just breathe. In through your nose. Hold it for a count of four. And then out through your mouth. Try it with me. Match my breathing.”

I focused in on him. The lifeline through the waves of panic.

Breathe in, two, three, four.

Hold, two, three, four.

Breathe out, two, three, four.

Repeat.

And again.

I didn’t know how long we sat there as he directed me through breathing exercises. But he never wavered, and he never moved. He just stared fixedly at me. He rubbed his thumbs over my knuckles. He spoke in the calmest voice I’d ever heard from him.

And then slowly, my shoulders loosened. The panic began to ebb. My voice returned.

Court reached forward and brushed a tear off of my cheek. “There we go. There you are.”

“How did you know how to do that?” I whispered.

“I started getting panic attacks after my dad died,” he told me. His eyes were still intent on mine. His thumb still rubbed soothing circles into my hand. “I tried to drown out the pain with alcohol, but it didn’t work. I started meditating. It doesn’t always work to stop them when I’m in a full-blown one. But it can usually hold it back if I know I’m on the verge.”

“Wow,” I said. “I didn’t know that about you.”

He laughed gently. “No one knows that.”

I swallowed. “Josh came by the apartment today.”

“What?” Court asked, his voice dropping. “Why?”

“He thought we’d get back together. I might have throat-punched him.”

A laugh burst out of Court. “Damn, English. You’re savage.”

“It was an accident, but it felt good.”

“So… panicking about Josh?”

I shook my head. “No. He told me that sleeping with Celeste was a publicity stunt. And that Margery—my boss, Margery—had been the one to suggest it.”

“Fuck,” he hissed.

“I called Margery to confront her, and then I quit Poise.”

“Jesus. I mean, I think you did the right thing, but fuck. What a bitch. Why would she do that behind your back?”

I shrugged helplessly.

“Okay. Okay,” he said and then rose to his considerable height. “I’m pretty much done with my work for today. I’m going to take off early and get you home.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

He looked at me as if I’d grown a second head. “You showed up here in the midst of a panic attack and then told me you just had a confrontation with your soon-to-be ex-husband and quit your job. I think that calls me to take you home and take