Cruel Promise

by K. A. Linde

  “Who the hell are you?” she gasped.

  Joey looked at her in confusion. “Mel, it’s me, Joey.”

  Melissa just blinked. “You must be mistaken. I have no idea who you are. I’ve never seen you a day in my life.”

  If I’d been feeling better, I would have gaped. Melissa was a damn good actress. How was she faking this so well?

  Sam glanced between them and then put his hand out, ever the Southern gentleman. “Hey, man, I’m Sam.”

  Joey shook his hand. “Uh…Joey.”

  “I’m not sure what’s going on here,” Sam said. “Are you a volunteer for the campaign?”

  Joey looked between them, confusion written across his features. “Well, see, Melissa here is my girlfriend. She invited me to come see her at the end of the campaign.”

  “I did no such thing,” Melissa said automatically.

  Joey furrowed his brows. “Don’t know why you’re pretending not to know me, Mel. You’re the one who bought the ticket.”

  Melissa’s eyes rounded. “Uh, no, I didn’t.”

  “Hey, man, maybe there was some kind of misunderstanding,” Sam said, trying to play peacekeeper.

  “No misunderstanding,” Joey drawled. “I have the emails here.” He found the emails we’d sent back and forth and handed them to Melissa.

  She scanned the emails, and Sam glanced over her shoulder.

  “That’s your email,” Sam reasoned.

  “I must have been hacked!” Melissa cried. “I wouldn’t do this. Does this even sound like me, Sam?”

  He shrugged like he didn’t want to get involved even though he was already involved. “Y’all can figure that out.”

  Melissa whipped around on Joey. “You said I paid for the flight? Do you have the receipt?”

  My stomach twisted. Oh god. I’d deleted everything else. I’d even blocked Joey after our final interaction so that Melissa wouldn’t get more emails from him. But the receipt…shit, could that be incriminating? I’d run everything by Rowe. We’d both thought that I’d covered my tracks.

  Joey handed her his phone again.

  “Ha!” she cried. “The last four digits of my credit card are 3711, not 5512.” She pulled out her wallet and showed everyone. “I didn’t do this.”

  Sam looked even more confused. “So…what happened?”

  “Obviously, someone hacked my email.” Melissa took a step away from Joey. “They invented this boyfriend, which I never had, and paid for him to come and humiliate me.”

  “That sounds…outrageous, Mel. Who would ever do that?”

  Melissa froze, and then her eyes found mine. I had been carefully blank through the entire interaction. Just holding a tissue to my nose and trying not to fall over from exhaustion.

  “Oh my god, you did this,” Melissa accused me.

  “Mel, come on,” he said.

  I cringed at the way he’d used her nickname. I didn’t like the sound of it in his mouth.

  Then the little actress burst into tears. She began to cry into her hands. I had to fight back rolling my eyes.

  “It’s Lark. Sam, she’s…she’s out to get me,” she cried dramatically. “She told me the first day that I met her that if I got near you, she’d ruin my life. Now, look what she did!”

  Sam put his arm around her and patted her shoulder. I glared at the exchange.

  “I did no such thing,” I managed to get out.

  My head was pounding even harder. Everything felt fuzzy.

  Melissa ripped herself out of Sam’s embrace and lunged for my purse. If I’d been feeling better, I might have been able to stop her. But as it was, I was too slow. I couldn’t get it quick enough. Then she snatched out my wallet. Sam was telling her to stop, but she didn’t listen. She reached in and wrenched out my credit cards until she gasped.

  “Look.” She threw the card at Sam.

  His eyes widened as he looked down at the credit card in his hand.

  “5512,” Melissa spat. Then she started crying again. “I told you she was out to get me! I told you! All of this is a farce. She made it all up.”

  “Sam, I…” I got out as I tried to stand. But I quickly sank back down. Standing was too much effort. Fuck.

  Sam’s look of disbelief broke my heart. “Lark, did you…did you do this?”

  “Sam…”

  “Did you?”

  “Of course she did,” Melissa said, sobbing.

  Joey looked uncomfortable, like he wanted to back out of the room.

  “Melissa…Melissa started it,” I forced out. My stomach twisted. Fear spiked through my veins.

  Oh god, that look in his eyes. That look that said he had no idea who I was. It was too much. I needed to get up. I needed to say more.

  He glanced between us. “I don’t know what is going on here, but I don’t want any part of it.”

  “Melissa wrote that article in the tabloids. She sent them the picture. She told me herself!” I told him. “She told me when she first showed up that she was here to win you back. This all started because of what she did.”

  Sam shook his head. He looked disgusted. “I really don’t know what’s true. But this is your credit card. This proof is in front of my face.”

  “Sam…” I pleaded.

  “We have an election to win,” he said gruffly. He stuffed the card back in my wallet and tossed it on top of my purse. “We all need to get to work.”

  With one more glance at me and then Melissa, he strode out of the office. If I’d felt an ounce better, I would have rushed after him. I’d have explained what happened and why I’d done what I’d done. But I could barely scramble to my feet. By the time I got to the door, his truck was already peeling out of the parking lot.

  Melissa came to step up next to me. A cruel smile painted her lips. She didn’t say a word. Just threw her shoulder into mine, making me stumble and nearly fall with the weight of my sickness. Then she strode out after him.

  Leaving me all alone with Joey and how everything had just completely blown up in my face. The realization of what I’d done…what I’d lost.

  I felt cold.

  Like I was drowning in a frozen lake.

  I’d ruined everything.

  Everything.

  VI

  A beer sat untouched in front of me. I’d arrived at The Station a half hour ago when Toby told me there was nothing more that could be done. Election results were on every screen in the bar. Wisconsin hadn’t been called yet, but most of the East Coast had. Woodhouse was ahead by a lot. We were just waiting for the final outcome.

  Moira slid into the seat across from me. “You look like you’re feeling better.”

  I glanced up at her and shrugged. My cold was mostly gone, which I found shocking, considering my mental health had completely deteriorated after Sam walked out of the office. I hadn’t seen him since.

  “So, what happened with you and Sam?” Moira asked gently. “People said there was a screaming match and lots of crying.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know, Moira. I blew it.”

  “I can’t imagine whatever happened being serious enough to wreck you two. You’ve been inseparable for the last year.”

  “I know.” I sighed. “I don’t know what to do.”

  She tipped her head behind me. “Fix it.”

  I turned around to find Sam walking into The Station. He looked around the room until he found me and then beelined in my direction. Just as he reached me, the entire room went up in chaos. We both turned to the TVs. Wisconsin had been called for Woodhouse. And with Wisconsin, so goes the country.

  “We won,” Sam said to me.

  “So it appears,” I said.

  Everyone else around us was hugging and cheering and congratulating. Toasts were made. Drinks were chugged. Celebration ensued. And Sam and I stared at each other in silence. This was not celebratory. I could see it on his face. This was not fixable in his eyes. I knew it before he said a word.

  “Was it real?” he as
ked.

  I swallowed and nodded. “Of course. Yes.”

  “Which Lark is the real one?” he continued. “Were you acting with me the last year?”

  “No, Sam. I’m sorry about what happened. But what we had was real.”

  He sighed and glanced away. “You didn’t trust me.”

  “I didn’t trust Melissa.”

  “Semantics,” he said. “You went behind my back to hurt Melissa because you thought that we were going to get back together. You didn’t trust me.”

  “I don’t know what to say, Sam. You invited her to live with you. You knew I was uncomfortable. And you didn’t hear me when I tried to warn you.”

  “So, you decided to try to ruin her life?” he demanded. “Lark, that’s…” He shook his head again and crossed his arms. Closed off. “I’m going back to North Carolina.”

  My stomach dropped. We’d never said what would happen next after the campaign. I’d said that I had to hold to my promise to my parents and he was applying to law schools. He could have stayed with me in New York while he applied. He could have chosen NYU or Columbia or even Fordham. Anywhere nearby. But now…he was going home.

  “When?”

  “In two days. Melissa is driving back with me in the truck.”

  I thought I was going to be sick. “So, with Melissa then?”

  Just as I’d always suspected.

  “She lives there, too.”

  “Sam, please,” I gasped.

  He looked away as if he couldn’t witness my pain.

  “What about us?”

  His gaze fell to his feet. “I don’t think there is an us. Not when neither of us can trust the other.”

  I choked back a sob. “What am I going to do without you?”

  “You’re going to go back to New York,” he told me with a sad smile. “You’re going to join your parents and run your empire. Wasn’t that always the plan anyway?”

  I nodded but felt utterly hollow inside. It was the plan. But I couldn’t imagine going home without him. Sam would never come to my city. It’d be empty, just like my life.

  He looked like he wanted to reach out and hug me one last time. I stepped forward, hoping for it, hoping to find the words to change his mind. Except he didn’t want to change his mind. The last year had been an adventure, but the adventure was over. I would go back to being Larkin St. Vincent, heiress to a fortune, an Upper East Side princess. And he’d return to Chapel Hill. He’d go to law school and build houses with his dad. He’d get back together with Melissa.

  Our lives diverged like a river. Maybe we had never been meant to cross in the first place.

  “Good-bye, Lark,” he said, not able to hide the hitch in his voice before he turned and walked back out of The Station.

  Movers came the next day to pack up my apartment. I just had to fill a suitcase, say good-bye to the rest of my colleagues, and then get on a plane back to New York. I lingered anyway, hoping to see Sam one last time. Moira pulled me into a hug and promised to stay close. I agreed. Though I wanted to leave everything about this campaign behind me. Without Sam, how could I even think about it?

  So, I left the office and headed to the Madison airport. I boarded in first class and tried to sleep as I flew back home alone. Everything ached, and even a drink didn’t silence the demons.

  This wasn’t what I’d wanted. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

  Sam was my first love.

  My first everything.

  We were supposed to drive off into the sunset together. Not end up torn down the middle. I wasn’t supposed to feel sick to my stomach every time I thought about him.

  And worse, this was my fault. Not completely. Not all of it. He’d still invited Melissa. He’d still let her stay at his place. He’d still believed Melissa over me…every time. But I’d done horrible, horrible things to try to keep him. When I should have realized he was mine and he had no intention of letting me go. Until I’d shown him who I truly was.

  My whole life, I’d gotten by with my name and my money. This was the first time ever that someone had loved me for who I was, with no pretense. And then my old self had reared its ugly head and destroyed the best thing in my life.

  Bad Lark.

  That was what had happened. I’d become Bad Lark.

  She felt like a separate entity to who I really was. And I wanted to be rid of her. I didn’t want to fall into that trap. I never, ever wanted to be Bad Lark again.

  I felt stronger when I got off the plane than when I’d boarded. Still hollow and empty where Sam’s light had previously shone through me. But free of the person I’d been, the one who had sent those emails to Joey and destroyed her own life.

  Instead, I was just me.

  And that was who I was going to be for everyone from now on.

  When I wheeled my suitcase out to baggage claim, I broke into a smile. There, standing inside LaGuardia Airport, was my crew. Katherine in a skimpy red dress. Penn dressed in a suit, his eyes lost and contemplative. Rowe fiddling with his iPad. Lewis perfectly put together, as normal. He noticed me first and burst into a giant smile as he waved.

  I walked toward them, and they all drew me into a hug at once. Even Rowe, who hated touching. I laughed.

  “You’re all here,” I said in surprise.

  “Of course,” Penn said with command. “You were gone for a year. We missed you.”

  “We did,” Lewis agreed.

  “Yeah, I’m tired of being completely outnumbered,” Katherine said with an eye roll.

  I looked around at my friends—my family. At least I wasn’t alone. They’d always loved me for exactly who I was. They’d seen me at my best and my worst. And they wouldn’t care which Lark appeared before them that day.

  But as I walked out of the airport with my friends, my heart still panged for Sam. And I knew it would be a long, long time until I got over him.

  If I ever did.

  Thank you so much for reading CRUEL PROMISE! I hope you loved Lark & Sam’s story, because it’s not over yet. Their story continues on the Upper East Side in CRUEL TRUTH!

  “The last thing I expect is for Sam Rutherford to walk into my office as the new legal counsel. Maybe it's worth giving my heart to him a second time.”

  One-click CRUEL TRUTH now!

  My next book, Hold the Forevers, is an angsty romance that will keep you guessing until the very end. “I’m in love with two men. But I can only marry one. And today is my wedding day. I have to choose: my groom or the man objecting?”

  * * *

  If you loved Cruel Promise, you’ll love this sexy, rollercoaster romance that readers describe as Gossip Girl meets Cruel Intentions! Grab CRUEL MONEY now!

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  Turn the page to read a sneak peek of Cruel Truth…

  Cruel Truth

  Chapter 1 — Lark

  “Larkin, darling, I don’t understand why you’re mad,” my mother said. She turned crisply in her sharp Chanel suit that hugged her figure perfectly.

  “You don’t understand anything apparently,” I snapped back.

  I nudged a pile of boxes as high as my head that had manifested in my living room out of thin air. It was six thirty in the morning. I hadn’t had my coffee. And I was ready to combust.

  “I am just trying to keep you up-to-date on the latest fashions. If you’re a part of this family, then you must look the part of a St. Vincent, dear.”

  “Get them out of here, Mother. I don’t need seventeen pairs of high heels,” I growled, estimating the boxes in front of me, “or thirty evening gowns or twenty new handbags. Mothe
r, I work on the mayor’s campaign. This isn’t my life anymore.”

  “Nonsense,” she said. “Who doesn’t want more clothes? I did find you a dozen new power suits to replace that number you’re wearing right now.” She pointed up and down at me. “It’ll do you wonders.”

  I ground my teeth and debated whether or not this was worth the fight. My mother, Hope St. Vincent, cared about next to nothing in this world other than appearances. She still probably wondered how she had gotten so unlucky to have a daughter who didn’t want to take over the family business and live the same life she presently lived on the Upper East Side—filthy rich, married, and miserable. I swore, my parents hadn’t shared a bed in twenty years. The St. Vincents took fucked up to a whole new level.

  “I honestly cannot handle you right now,” I said. “Please have this all cleared out. I have to get to work.”

  “All this work causes you so much stress.” My mother strutted over to me on her six-inch Louboutins and pressed her fingers to my forehead. “There’s this new plastic surgeon everyone is talking about. I could get you a Botox appointment. It’s preventative!”

  I counted slowly to ten, reminding myself this was my mother and that somewhere deep, deep down she meant well.

  “I’m leaving.” I reached for my bag. “Also, I’m having the locks changed. I don’t even know how you got in here.”

  “Oh, Larkin, you’re overreacting, as always.”

  Any minute now, she would be inviting me to early morning martinis. It was never too early to drink.

  “As you know, Mayor Kensington’s reelection campaign is gearing up,” I reminded her as patiently as I could. “I have even less time than normal to do anything. Today, I have a huge meeting about the mayoral fundraising banquet next week. So, I have to go.”

  “Oh, of course,” my mother said. “Leslie told me about that. We purchased a table, obviously.” She opened a box and pulled out a lavender St. Vincent’s handbag. My mother’s signature bag—the Larkin. I cringed. God, it had been a nightmare, growing up with my name on a bag. She shoved the bag into my hand. “Too bad that Nina isn’t going anymore.”