The Hating Season

by Linde, K. A.

  I wish I could get him to understand. My family wasn’t like his family. Everyone had problems. Money didn’t fix that. But I hadn’t shared any of that with him. He didn’t know that side of me.

  “My family is just… different.”

  He put his hand on my knee. “I’m sure it will be fine.”

  I nodded, reassured by his easy demeanor. “I’m sure it will be.”

  He sat back in his seat until the car pulled over in front of his building. We headed upstairs at his apartment. I flipped through his collection of fantasy novels as I waited for him to shower and get dressed. He had hundreds of books in the back bedroom. I never would have guessed by looking at the living area. He really didn’t want people to know who he was. All they’d see was the TV and video games and the wet bar. Perfect Upper East Side bachelor.

  Court appeared in the doorway. His hair still wet from the shower, his shirt only half-buttoned, and he was still barefoot. He looked sexy as fucking hell.

  “Trying to pick one to read?” he asked.

  “Have you read them all?”

  He shrugged. “Not this shelf.”

  He pointed at one measly shelf with about a dozen books on it.

  “Wow. Tell me where to start.”

  “Easy. The Eye of the World. Jordan is a genius.” He procured the book off the top shelf and handed it to me. “I have another copy at the office. You can have that one.”

  I held it up. “Lots of amazing women in this series?”

  Something lit up inside him when I started asking about books. And I liked it.

  “Actually, yes. Women are way more powerful than almost all the men in that series. They’re the ones with the magic.”

  “I like the sound of it already.”

  “You would. You’ll probably love Moiraine.”

  “And why is that?”

  He chuckled. “She doesn’t take anyone’s shit.”

  I tucked the book into my purse. “You’re right. I probably will like her.”

  We headed back out to the car, and I pointedly ignored him in favor of the first couple chapters.

  “So, what’s happening now?” he asked like a kid desperate for attention.

  I threw a hair tie into the book as a bookmark. “I just started.”

  “Tell me when all the good stuff happens.”

  “You’re obsessed.”

  “Yeah, well, it’s my favorite series,” he said with a shrug. “The other option is, you could tell me about your family. You know too much about mine. It might be nice to know a bit about yours.”

  I sighed and set the book aside. This was going to be fun. “Well, my parents divorced when I was ten. My dad was a serial cheater. He would disappear for weeks at a time and just leave me to fend for myself with my mom. Mom was…” I swallowed. How the hell did I explain my mom? I never talked about her. “We’re estranged for a reason. I haven’t talked to her in five years.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  I waved a hand at him. “Yeah. She was never a great mom to begin with. But when I started dating Josh, she wanted the money. I had to cut her out of my life to protect myself.”

  “Fuck, English.” He sighed heavily. “Where does Taylor come into all of this?”

  “My dad remarried a year after the divorce. He took me with him and his new wife—my stepmom, Ashley. She got pregnant a year later. Hence Taylor.”

  “He’s still with your stepmom? Even though he cheated a lot?”

  “They’re still together. I think he cleaned up when he met Ashley. He could be a good husband for another woman but not my mom. And a good father for another daughter but not for me.”

  Court frowned. “His loss.”

  I laughed with a vulnerable pain in my voice. “Yeah. He poisoned Taylor against me for a long time because I was… wild in high school and college. He’s trying to mend it all now, I guess. I just can’t get over how he treated me when I needed him the most. And how he wants me to treat him now that I’m old enough to know better.”

  “Families are fucking complicated.”

  I managed a small smile. “Tell me about it.”

  Court didn’t press me for more information. He just slung his arm around me and held me close the rest of the way south to the river.

  The car service dropped us off in front of the pier where the Oktoberfest festivities were well underway. A woman in traditional dirndl dress checked our IDs at the front and slapped wristbands on us before letting us inside. I didn’t want to ask how Taylor had gotten inside. I’d had a fake ID at sixteen, but it was hard to envision Taylor like that.

  “Anna!” Taylor yelled dramatically as soon as she saw me.

  Or maybe not. Maybe she was just like every teenager fresh out of high school.

  “Hey, Taylor.”

  “And you brought your hot boyfriend!” she crowed.

  I laughed but didn’t contradict her. Court and I hadn’t put a label on our relationship. It was easier that way. But it would be nice for an afternoon to think of him as my boyfriend.

  “Taylor, this is Court. Court, my sister, Taylor.”

  He held out his hand. “Pleasure to meet you.”

  She giggled and shook his hand. “You too.”

  “I’m going to go get us beers,” he said with a smile. “Do you need a refill?”

  “Yes,” Taylor gasped. “I am out.”

  I shook my head, but what could I say? I’d been much, much worse than this at her age. And I’d turned out just fine.

  “Come meet Bea!” Taylor insisted. “She’s the best.”

  I laughed and followed her. I’d heard a lot about Bea since school started. She sounded like the ultimate cool girl. Beautiful but laid-back. She liked football and video games. She wore only the coolest clothes that Taylor coveted. She was smart and funny. And if I didn’t know better, I would say my sister was in love with her.

  And as I watched her heart eyes as she finally found the infamous Bea, I realized maybe she was.

  “Bea, this is my sister, Anna,” Taylor said with a dopey smile.

  Bea turned around, and she was everything I’d expected. Tall with dark hair and lots of makeup. Her clothes were purposely casual but high quality. Actually, everything about her seemed purposeful. She also looked high and not just drunk, like Taylor.

  “Hey, Anna,” Bea said. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  “Same. It’s nice to put a name with a face.”

  “Definitely. I’m so jealous that Tay has family in the city. All of my family is up in Boston.”

  “Easier to get there than LA at least.”

  She smirked. “True.”

  Court appeared then with our drinks. “Sorry it took me a minute. I had to fight my way through a stein-holding contest, which I didn’t realize was a thing.”

  “Thanks,” Taylor said, taking her beer. “So, what do you do? Are you like my sister? Do you fix people’s problems?”

  He laughed. “Uh, no. She fixes my problems generally. I work at a financial firm.”

  “Wall Street?” she asked, wrinkling her nose.

  “Something like that.”

  “That sounds so boring.”

  I took a sip of German beer to keep from laughing.

  “It is sometimes,” he agreed. “That is what happens when you go to college to play lacrosse and just get a boring degree while you do it.”

  “Lacrosse?” she asked incredulously. “Isn’t that a rich white dude sport?”

  I nearly sprayed my beer all over him. “Taylor, how much have you had to drink?”

  She laughed and then shrugged. “More than one?”

  “Let her interrogate me,” Court said, waving me off. “I don’t mind.”

  “You work on Wall Street, and you play lacrosse. Next, you’re going to tell me your grew up on the Upper East Side, and you went to Harvard.” She drew out the word snootily, so it sounded like Hah-vard.

  Court looked to me. “How much did you tell her?�
��

  I snorted. “Nothing! You’re just that easy to peg.”

  “Wait, really?” Taylor asked, wide-eyed. “That’s hilarious.”

  Taylor and Court bantered back and forth for a while until she was pulled back into her group of friends. I had no hope of keeping up with their conversation.

  Court just tugged me in closer. “She seems nice.”

  “To be honest, this is the nicest, chill-est I’ve ever seen her in my life. Maybe I should have gotten her drunk earlier.”

  “Bad influence.”

  “Pot, meet kettle.”

  “It’s weird, hearing her call you Anna though. I thought you said no one called you that.”

  I took another sip of my beer. “I used to say only people who didn’t know me. That included my family. But now, I don’t mind when you call me that.”

  “Good, because I intend to call you that later,” he said suggestively, leaning his mouth against the shell of my ear. “When I make you come.”

  I squirmed. “I might have to drag you out of here.”

  “I’m game. I think I’ve had my fill of Oktoberfest.”

  “You’ve convinced me.”

  As if I needed any convincing.

  “Hey, Taylor, I think we’re going to head back,” I told her.

  Taylor frowned as if she had suddenly sobered up at the prospect of us leaving. “What? It’s so early.”

  “You stay and have fun. We can meet up again later.”

  “Come on. One more drink.”

  I shook my head. “I’ll see you later. Text me when you get home safe.”

  “Okay, Mom,” she said with a laugh. “Can I actually… talk to you for a minute?”

  “Sure,” I said cautiously.

  She pulled me away from her friends and Court and over to a table against the water. She looked nervous and uncomfortable. I had a feeling I was not going to like whatever she was about to say.

  “Do you think I could borrow some money?”

  I raised my eyebrows. “What for?”

  She anxiously chewed on her lip. “Does it matter?”

  “How much are we talking?”

  “Like five hundred bucks?”

  I sighed out heavily through my nose. “What happened?”

  “Nothing! It’s for a friend.”

  “For a friend,” I said hollowly.

  I wanted to think there was a logical explanation as to why she was asking me for this amount of money. But in my line of work, I knew why they needed money. I knew who they needed to pay off. And I’d known before I’d gotten this gig. I’d seen transactions go down. I’d done my fair share of stupid shit.

  “Yes. Seriously. It isn’t for me.”

  “And why can’t your ‘friend’ pay?”

  She winced. “Please, Anna. I don’t want her to get in a worse situation. I’m trying to help.”

  “Help would be therapy or calling a hotline, a school counselor, a rehab facility,” I bit out.

  “So, you won’t help?” she asked bitterly.

  “I didn’t say that. I said that if your ‘friend,’ ” I said in quotes, “doesn’t get help, the money is going to do her no good.”

  “It’s not for me!” she gasped out.

  “Fine. I can give you the money. But that’s it, Taylor. I don’t want to know what drugs you’re taking. I don’t want to know how you got into this mess. I just want you to stop. Trust me when I say that I have been there and done that, and it’s not worth it.”

  She drew back sharply. “You don’t know the situation.”

  “It’s always the same situation. I do this for a living. I make problems go away. But just because we hide them does not make them go away. Stick to weed. I’ll buy you fucking alcohol if you want. But don’t make me fix your problems for you again. I really don’t want to have to tell Dad.”

  “Please don’t,” she whispered in horror.

  “If you stop now, I won’t.”

  “Thanks.” She sounded hollowed out. “I’ll get my friend to stop.”

  “Please be careful.”

  “I will. I really will.”

  I sighed as I walked away from my sister. I should do more, but I’d been in her exact shoes. I’d had no one to ask for the money. And it had taken me working my ass off to cover it. I should have made her work her ass off for it. But fuck.

  “What was that about?” Court asked when I returned to him.

  “Nothing.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “You sure?”

  I glanced back at Taylor, who was already at Bea’s side again.

  “Yeah. She’s just an idiot. I think it’ll be fine.”

  I hoped. Still, I sent the money.

  26

  English

  Lacrosse games and campaign events filled the next two weeks to the brim. Until I was so busy that I didn’t even have time to think about Taylor. Court had agreed to attend rallies with his mother, and I stayed close by to make sure it went off without a hitch. In public, we always appeared professional. But I looked forward to the hiding part of all this being over.

  At least Lark was happy for me. As was Whitley, who I had confessed to over lunch, and Katherine, despite her insistence not to date a Kensington. She’d sent me an invitation to her annual Ears and Tails Halloween party, which benefited a local animal shelter. I tried not to overthink my costume to what I’d gathered was essentially a lingerie party. I needed to focus on the publicity I had lined up for Court going into the election. That was what was important.

  Not Googling slutty costumes on the internet.

  But it was way more fun.

  I’d been dicking around in my home office, doing just that, when I heard the lock click over at the front door. What the hell? Who was coming into my house? No one else but me had a key. I hadn’t even given Court one.

  But fuck, the door handle turned. Someone was definitely entering my house.

  I jumped up from my seat and dashed into the living room. My heart raced frantically, even as a cold calm settled over my body. I didn’t need a gun or anything. I was well-trained weapon. I’d practiced martial arts for over a decade. My focus had been defense, but I would stop whoever sought to enter my sanctum.

  The door flew open. I stood strong in a defensive position, prepared to attack whoever walked through that door.

  And just as I moved forward to strike, I saw who it was. But I didn’t pull my punch fast enough, and I hit my husband once, quick and fierce, straight into his windpipe.

  “Josh?” I gasped.

  He doubled over, clutching at his throat. “Jesus, English.”

  “Oh my god, are you okay?”

  “Okay?” he wheezed. “You just throat-punched me.”

  “I thought you were an intruder. Why didn’t you call or text? Why would you just barge in here?”

  I hadn’t even considered that Josh would still have a key. After today, I was changing the locks.

  “Fuck, I’m going on The Tonight Show tonight. I’m going to sound like I have fucking laryngitis.” He coughed a few times. “Can I have some water?”

  I ground my teeth together. It was his own damn fault. He should have called me and not just entered my home unannounced. But I had just punched him, so I stiffly nodded my head once and let him inside the apartment he’d purchased but never seen.

  Until we finalized the divorce, we owned the apartment jointly. Not that it meant he could come and go anytime he wanted.

  I strode into the kitchen and pulled a glass out of a cupboard. It was brand-new, just like nearly everything in the apartment. I’d taken next to nothing from our place in LA. I hadn’t wanted an even bigger reminder of Josh in my new apartment.

  “I like what you’ve done with the place,” he said hoarsely as I filled up the glass with water.

  I had no interest in making small talk.

  “Here.” I passed the glass to him, careful that our hands didn’t touch.

  He took a sip and winced. Th
en another. I’d gotten him good.

  Seeing him was… difficult.

  I hadn’t seen him since London. I’d flown out there to be with him on set for the last Bourne film. We’d made love in his flat in the city, and then the next day, I overheard two people talking about Josh and Celeste sleeping together. When I confronted Josh, he didn’t even want to admit it. He only confessed to it when I said that I’d go to Celeste.

  He’d barely groveled. Just claimed that he didn’t love her. That it helped promote the movie. As if saying that to me, of all people, would make it okay.

  I’d expected to feel fierce anger and disgust in his presence. That was all I’d felt the last time I saw him. But it had been months since I saw him. I’d expected him to look different. To be run-down by our impending divorce. Somehow, he still looked like Josh.

  Cookie-cutter, perfect Josh with his surfer-boy blond hair, award-winning smile, and to-die-for blue eyes. He pulled off his peacoat, and underneath he wore designer jeans with a gray T-shirt. Simple but effective. That was his style. Who he was as a person. Or at least, I’d thought so.

  My throat bobbed, and my stomach squeezed. My insides felt like my outsides, and my outsides felt like my insides. I was upside down. I didn’t feel like the woman who had just been prepared to attack an intruder. I felt like the jaded woman who had met Josh at a party, assuming he was a goody-two-shoes that I’d have no interest in. Instead, he’d held my attention all night, been a complete gentleman, and insisted on taking me out for a proper date before trying to get in my pants. It had been revolutionary in my world. My sea of asshole suitors.

  And then he’d turned out just like all the others.

  Josh set the glass on the counter. “It’s good to see you.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  He blew out a short breath. “I’m on tour for Bourne. I’ll be in New York for a couple days, running the circuit of talk shows. I had to see you. I miss you like crazy.”

  He reached out for me, but I stepped back.

  “So, Celeste is with you.”

  “She’s in the city. She’s not with me. We’re not together.” He looked repentant when he said it.

  I crossed my arms and nodded. I didn’t know why I cared. But the thought of him starting a relationship with the person he’d cheated on me with made me want to set something on fire.