Cruel Promise
Page 1
Cruel Promise
Cruel #3.5, Upper East Side #.5
K.A. Linde
Contents
Also By K.A. Linde
WINTER
I
II
III
IV
SPRING
I
II
III
SUMMER
I
II
III
FALL
I
II
III
IV
V
VI
Cruel Truth
Acknowledgments
Also By K.A. Linde
About the Author
A L S O B Y K. A. L I N D E
CRUEL
One Cruel Night | Cruel Money
Cruel Fortune | Cruel Legacy
Cruel Promise | Cruel Truth
Cruel Desire | Cruel Marriage
* * *
WRIGHTS
The Wright Brother | The Wright Boss
The Wright Mistake | The Wright Secret
The Wright Love | The Wright One
A Wright Christmas
Wright with Benefits | Serves Me Wright
* * *
RECORD SERIES
Off the Record | On the Record | For the Record
Struck from the Record | Broken Record
* * *
AVOIDING SERIES
Avoiding Commitment | Avoiding Responsibility
Avoiding Temptation | Avoiding Extras
Avoiding Boxset
* * *
DIAMOND GIRLS SERIES
Rock Hard | A Girl’s Best Friend
In the Rough | Shine Bright
Under Pressure
* * *
TAKE ME DUET
Take Me for Granted | Take Me with You
* * *
STAND ALONE
Following Me
Hold the Forevers
* * *
FANTASY ROMANCE
* * *
BLOOD TYPE SERIES
Blood Type | Blood Match | Blood Cure
* * *
ASCENSION SERIES
The Affiliate | The Bound | The Consort
The Society | The Domina
* * *
ROYAL HOUSES
House of Dragons | House of Shadows
Cruel Promise
Copyright © 2020 by K.A. Linde
All rights reserved.
* * *
Visit my website at
www.kalinde.com
* * *
Cover Designer: Staci Hart
www.stacihartnovels.com
Editor: Unforeseen Editing
www.unforeseenediting.com
* * *
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
* * *
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
* * *
ISBN-13: 978-1948427487
WINTER
I
“Breathe. You can do this.”
I bit my dark pink–painted lips, pushed open the door, and stepped into the chaos that was the Wisconsin state headquarters for Governor Woodhouse’s presidential bid. It was everything I’d expected. Staff seated at cubicles, half-finished signs littered a table, an array of volunteers lined up in front of a row of computers, and the permeating smell of coffee.
I couldn’t stop the excited smile from creeping onto my face. I was really here. I’d made it to Madison, and I was officially working for Governor Woodhouse—at a state office, no less. It was as if all of my dreams were finally coming true.
“You look lost,” a guy said, stepping up with the biggest, most heart-stopping brown eyes I’d ever seen.
“A little,” I admitted. “I’m Lark. I’m supposed to start working here today, I think.”
His eyes brightened even further. “The new girl. Right. Toby said you’d be coming in today. He said that I’d be mentoring you.” He stuck his hand out. “I’m Sam.”
“Hi.”
I shook his hand, lingering a second at the firm grasp and long musician’s fingers. I drew back shyly. Something I was pretty sure I’d never been in my entire life. But the look on Sam’s face was enough to make me forget who I was. That I was actually Larkin St. Vincent, heiress to St. Vincent’s Enterprise, a multibillion-dollar company headquartered in New York City. Not that I wanted anyone to know that here.
“Well, welcome to Madison. It’s not New York—that’s where you’re from, right?” he asked, continuing without waiting for my answer, “But I think you’ll like it.”
I smiled, taking in everything about him in one sweeping glance. One thing was for sure; he was hardly the typical Upper East Side prep guy I was used to. There was something more to him. Something intensely masculine and unpolished in all the right ways.
“Yes, New York,” I said. “Are you from here?”
“God, no,” he said, gesturing for me to follow him into an office. “I don’t even know how I survived the winter. I’m from North Carolina. Tar Heel born and bred.”
I laughed and tugged off my scarf. I stuffed it into my purse, which I dropped onto a brown cushioned chair.
“I wouldn’t get too comfortable,” another voice said from the door.
I turned around and came face-to-face with a gorgeous woman with brown skin and long black hair that she wore in loose, voluminous waves.
“Moira,” the woman said, holding out a hand covered in henna. “You’re Lark, I presume? Toby gave me your email.”
“Yes, that’s me,” I said, shaking Moira’s hand. “Nice to meet you. Is Toby around?”
Toby was the regional campaign director for the Madison area and their boss. I’d interviewed with him twice and found him to be an eccentric, energetic man. The kind of man whose great passion would sustain us through a hard-fought campaign season. Or at least, I hoped so.
“Toby is tied up in meetings with the state team. Sam here is going to take you under his wing. He’s been here nearly as long as Toby, so you’re in safe hands.”
“Great. I’m ready to get started.”
“That’s what we like to hear. At this point, you, Sam, and I are divvying up most of Madison on the ground for Governor Woodhouse. So, welcome to the team.”
“It’s great to finally be here.”
“Thanks, Moira. I was getting to that part,” Sam said with a shake of his head.
“Anytime.” She turned back to me. “Are you okay with sharing this office with Sam? We’re already short on space, but Josh is working on getting us the building next door.”
“Yeah, that’s fine by me.” I snuck another glance at Sam. I caught him staring at me, and he hastily looked away when our eyes met. “Who is Josh?”
“He’s Toby’s immediate boss. As the state field manager, he runs the campaign for everyone in the field for the entire state of Wisconsin,” Moira said. “Think of this as one big hierarchy. We work for Toby, who works for Josh, who works for the head of the Midwest organization, who works for the field campaign manager, who works for the overall campaign manager, who works for Governor Woodhouse. Our job is to add to the hierarchy and get people to work underneath us. Preferably for free.” She turned to the desk, grabbed two clipboards from Sam’s stuff, and passed them to each of us. “Now, go bring me back seven voter registration
s by five, and then we’ll make a hundred phone calls.”
Moira smiled cheerily and then jaunted out of the room.
I turned to Sam with wide eyes. “Is she serious?”
Sam laughed. “That’s Moira for you. Come on. I’ll show you the ropes.”
“Just like that? I mean…I don’t even get to see the office or drop my stuff at my apartment or anything?”
“Welcome to the campaign,” Sam said with a wink.
I looked down at my high heels and shook my head. “At least let me find some sneakers.”
His eyes traveled to my shoes, and unbidden, his laughter boomed out of him. I couldn’t help it. Suddenly, I was laughing with him.
“Not my smartest move,” I admitted.
“Definitely not in the snow.”
I tucked the clipboard under my arm, grabbed my bag, and then headed out to the car my parents had insisted on for my time in Madison. I’d managed to keep them from buying a flashy Mercedes. They’d been appalled that I wanted a low-key Subaru but finally relented.
Of course, I hadn’t told them it was because for the first time in my life, I wasn’t going to be Larkin St. Vincent, but just Lark. Not an heir to an empire. Just a girl.
“Drive all the way here from New York?” Sam asked as I dug through my suitcase in the trunk.
“Oh god, no.” I shot him a skeptical look. “I’m not a great driver. I didn’t even get a license until I went to college.”
“That’s insane to me. I grew up driving all the back roads long before I had a license.”
I pulled out my sneakers and snapped the trunk shut. I tossed Sam the keys. “By all means, Country Boy.”
He laughed. “I’ll show you how it’s done, City Girl.”
II
“You guys getting all of this?” Toby asked, bouncing from foot to foot with excitement.
I sat with Sam and Moira in the rickety plastic chairs. We glanced up at our boss and nodded encouragingly. Sam gave him a thumbs-up.
Moira leaned in and said, “We are one hundred and ten percent focused.”
“Excellent. I’m ready to implement all this new knowledge and crush those numbers.”
Toby held his hand up, and Moira sighed and then gave him a high five. Toby went down the row, high-fiving Sam and then finally me.
“Okay, back to the material!”
I shook my head as Toby jogged back up to the front of the room to stand with the other field managers as the presentation continued. We’d been at this state-level training at a warehouse outside of Madison all day. It was exhausting and repetitive.
I’d spent the last three weeks with Sam at the office. He’d mentored me through the basics of campaign life. I had my own assignments and tasks to complete for my section of Madison, which primarily included State Street and the University of Wisconsin–Madison. But Sam was the person I called when I had a question. He was the person who walked me through the voter registration laws, pulling call lists, entering data into the voter system, and a myriad of other things. This statewide training was a lot of the same information recycled back, and I had to admit that I’d liked hearing it from Sam first.
“Are you guys pumped up?” Moira asked with an eye roll. “Or are you snoozing?”
“So pumped up,” I said dryly.
“It’s not that bad,” Sam said.
“You’ve been to at least three of these. Don’t you ever get sick of it?” Moira asked.
“Sure. But they really do it for the newbies, like Lark.”
I wrinkled my nose at him. “Hey, my teacher already covered this material. I’m pretty sure I aced the exam.”
Sam chuckled and leaned back in the uncomfortable plastic chair. “I meant that it pumps up the newbs. Gives you that extra bit of excitement to really make it through the next couple of months.”
“Plus, it’s the only day we get to sit around and do nothing,” Moira added.
“And eat lunch, sitting down.” Sam wiggled his fingers at me, and I laughed.
“Who knew I’d be so excited to eat lunch like a regular person? Instead of grabbing something on the go and shoving it down my throat as fast as I can.”
Sam gawked, and Moira snickered.
“Phrasing,” Moira said.
“Oh my god! That’s not what I meant!”
“Shh,” a girl hissed directly in front of us.
Sam whispered, “Sorry,” to the girl and then went right back to chatting. “Anyway, where should we go for lunch?”
“What’s even around here?” Moira asked, pulling her dark hair back into a bun on the top of her head with a pencil. “If we were downtown, I’d say Pel’meni.”
“You always vote for Pel’meni,” Sam said. He turned to face me, and I froze under that gaze. “Do you have a preference?”
I opened my mouth to respond, but then he gently brushed a strand of chestnut-red hair that had fallen loose from my ponytail behind my ear. I lost coherent thought in that second.
“Let me guess. Burgers?” he asked with his award-winning smile. His hand lingered for a second longer. “With no mustard because it’s disgusting?”
I swallowed. “Yes, please.”
“Burgers it is,” Sam said, finally dropping his hand.
I knew that I should look away. That I should ignore the way my heart pitter-pattered in my chest. I didn’t have time for these feelings. God, none of us did. I worked from nine in the morning until ten at night every single day of the week. It was hardly sustainable. Let alone adding in anything other than food and the occasional drink. Sleep was more important. I guarded it with my life. And yet, staring into those eyes, I was seriously considering forsaking sleep. Forsaking a lot of sleep.
Then Sam broke the trance, and I bit my lip to keep from sighing. I was ninety-nine percent sure it was one-sided. That was also new for me. Dates had always been easy to get and utterly mindless. But while being around Sam was easy, nothing about him was mindless.
Which was the main reason I was so attracted to him. He was good-looking. By all means, the tall, dark, and handsome thing really worked for him. But it was so much more than that. He was rugged where I was used to preps. He was passionate where I expected apathy. He was driven, motivated, and hard-working where I’d only known privilege and entitlement. His confidence wasn’t born out of how much money resided in his bank account, but from the pride he took in his work. I’d never met anyone like Sam Rutherford.
“We only have a few more minutes before lunch,” Josh said, drawing my attention back to him. He double-checked his watch. “You’ll have an hour to eat, and then I’ll need you back in your seats for the afternoon session. Everyone understand?”
The room grumbled a collective, “Yes.” We were all ready to get out of there.
My eyes still darted to Sam’s. To my surprise, he had just glanced over at me, too.
He smiled that disarming smile and said, “Ready for lunch?”
“Yeah,” I said softly. “Lunch sounds great.”
“Cool. I’m going to snag a Coke before we head out. Want one?”
“Just a water.”
“Got it!”
Sam popped up and disappeared into the ensuing crowd. Lunch was only an hour, and all the campaign workers were in a hurry to make the most of their meal.
“The rest of the campaign is going to be so fun, watching you two,” Moira said. Her dark eyes were filled with laughter.
“What do you mean?” I asked cautiously.
“Oh, please. You both have it bad.”
“No way, Moira. Sam is a nice guy and he’s mentoring me and…he’s not interested.”
She rolled her eyes. “And I’m a dodo bird.”
I couldn’t help but ask, “You think he’s interested in me?”
“Does he have eyes?” Moira demanded.
“Well, it doesn’t matter, does it? I’m not here for a relationship. I’m here to get Woodhouse elected.”
“You’re right,” Moira
said, throwing her arm over my shoulders as Sam appeared.
“All set?” Sam asked.
He passed me a water, and I mumbled, “Thank you.”
“Oh, we’re ready,” Moira said. “Right, Lark?”
I tilted my chin up, refusing to back down. I liked Moira and Sam and everyone else on the campaign, but Woodhouse was the real reason that I was here. A boy was not going to get in the way of me following my dream.
“Yep. I am so ready.”
III
I held the box of clipboards to my chest. I’d spent all afternoon on campus with a handful of volunteers, doing voter registration at the end-of-semester events at the University of Wisconsin.
With my hands full, I toed the door to the office open and nearly collapsed once I dropped the box onto the counter.
“God, I need to work out more.” I stretched my arms and shoulders. “The walk from campus is literally killing me.”
Sam strolled out of our joint office and into the main room. “We should get you a rolling cart or something.”