Cruel Desire

by K. A. Linde

  “Whit! What are you doing here?” I asked.

  “English, you’re here!” Whitley pulled me into a hug.

  I immediately felt better with her at my side. I hadn’t felt that out of it in a long time. This place sure knew how to drag a girl down.

  “Yes. I got an invitation.”

  “No invite for me. But I met a new guy.”

  “A new guy this time? Swearing off girls for a while?”

  Whitley bit her lip. “The last one got a little too clingy. I can’t do clingy.”

  “And the new guy isn’t clingy?”

  “We’ll see. This is only our second date. And there he is.” She twiddled her fingers away from us.

  I turned and found none other than Robert Dawson heading in our direction with a drink in each hand.

  “Robert,” I said in surprise.

  “Hey, English,” he said with that dashing debonair smile as he passed Whitley a drink.

  “How do you two know each other?” Whitley asked, taking a large gulp of her fruity drink.

  “I went to his Labor Day weekend party,” I told her. “How do you two know each other?”

  Whitley shrugged as if she knew everyone. “His mom was having work done, and he came to pick her up. Meet-cute.”

  “Wow,” I said in surprise.

  Robert just laughed. “I didn’t even know that you were friends.”

  “We were in the same sorority at UCLA,” Whitley said. “English is the best publicist in the business. The absolute best, most badass friend.”

  “And Whitley keeps everything interesting.”

  Whitley winked. “I try.”

  “She definitely does,” Robert said, enamored with Whitley’s enormous personality. Which was good because a lot of people couldn’t handle her intensity. Plus, Whitley went through relationships as often as she changed her hair.

  I plucked a glass of champagne off of a passing tray as I chatted with Whitley and Robert. I knew that I’d need something stronger for the rest of the evening. A little liquid courage. But my earlier anxiety had already loosened just by being in the presence of my friend.

  We still hadn’t seen Lark, but I saw Gavin and waved him over. He looked incredibly handsome in a tailored black tuxedo. His dark red hair combed back off of his face. He drew me in for a quick hug and then gestured to his date, a model-tall white girl with medium-brown hair slicked back into a severe bun and a nude dress. “This is Jada.”

  She took my hand for a weak shake. “Pleasure to meet you.”

  “You too,” I said.

  “Jada does runways for Dior,” Gavin said hastily.

  “Ah,” I said. “That must be… fun?”

  Jada shrugged. Unimpressed. “You said you were going to get me another drink.”

  “I am,” Gavin said.

  Though I could tell by the look on his face that he didn’t like her attitude. Well, this one wouldn’t last.

  “Whatever,” Jada said. She pulled her phone out and began to text, ignoring the lot of us.

  Gavin gave me a sheepish look. But then his eyes shifted to Whitley, and he frowned and then looked away. It was fast enough that if I hadn’t been paying attention, I might not have even noticed. Was Gavin into Whitley?

  I had no way of knowing as he immediately turned to Robert, and the two began talking business, leaving us girls to our own devices. Jada was literally attached to hers.

  It was about that time that the lights brightened. The DJ announced Penn and Natalie as the bride and groom. I stood on my tiptoes in my high heels to see over the crowd forming as the couple strode into the room.

  “What do they look like?” Whitley asked.

  She was a good head shorter than I was, and I could barely see anything.

  “She’s wearing white. He’s in a tux.”

  “Is it a full gown?”

  “See for yourself,” I said just as a large circle opened up on the dance floor, giving us a perfect view of the couple as they began their first dance.

  It was, in fact, not a full gown. But rather a demure A-line number that came to Natalie’s knees. It was covered in lace, wrapping over both shoulders and securing around her neck. The dress was open to the middle of her back and then had an intricate row of seed pearl buttons. It managed to be both modern and classic without being over the top. Her shoes were nude Christian Louboutins that I’d enviously eyed in their store and put back. They had clearly spared no expense for this event.

  With how gorgeous Natalie looked with her silver mane of hair pinned up into an intricate design and her makeup full and beautiful, it was hard to even notice Penn. Even though he was in a custom tuxedo that looked like he’d taken it right off of a movie set. He looked like James Bond, and he twirled his wife around the dance floor as if she were his Bond girl.

  And for a second, he looked so like his brother that it was unnerving. I hadn’t quite noticed that before.

  Suddenly, I was searching out the other Kensington brother. Where exactly was Court?

  I hadn’t seen him in the crowd. And I’d been looking. I figured he must have been backstage with his family, but that didn’t explain why he wasn’t here now. It seemed that if Penn and Natalie had made it out, then he would have followed. I could see their mother standing nearby.

  In fact, as the first song ended and another one started up, Leslie took the hand of a man standing to her left, and he escorted her onto the dance floor. But still, no Court.

  “Have you seen Court?” I asked Gavin and Robert. “Surely, he’s here for his brother.”

  Robert shook his head. “Haven’t seen him.”

  “Which is strange,” Gavin confessed. Then, his eyes roamed the room. “I thought he’d be here already.”

  “Maybe he’s making an entrance,” Whitley said.

  “For his brother’s wedding reception?” I asked incredulously.

  “That actually sounds just like him,” Gavin agreed.

  I shook my head. That didn’t sound like Court. If he wanted to piss his brother off, he had a lot of other ways to do it. And I knew that he didn’t have any intention of pissing Penn off. He was happy that Penn was happy.

  “Ooh,” Gavin muttered under his breath. “Well, that makes a lot more sense.”

  “What does?”

  Gavin pointed toward a far corner of the room. Court had just stepped through the entrance that Penn and Natalie had taken a few minutes earlier. And on his arm was a tall, beautiful brunette with her large breasts on display in a low-cut dress as red orange as a California poppy field.

  “Poppy,” I muttered in shock.

  “Yeah. No wonder he was late,” Gavin said with a laugh. “Poppy Arlington is as hot as they fucking come.”

  My stomach turned over. Court was here with Poppy Arlington. The same woman he’d purposely avoided at Robert’s party. Who he’d sneered at because she was aggressive and desperate. What the fuck?

  21

  Court

  Poppy Arlington might objectively be one of the hottest women on the Upper East Side. But she was also objectively one of the most annoying. And I already regretted bringing her to the reception.

  It had seemed like a good idea at the time.

  Camden’s advice had been to find the hottest girl without baggage and give it a whirl. I’d debated inviting someone else, but Poppy had been the easiest choice, and I’d gone with that.

  “Court,” she asked in that fake breathy voice she used, “are you sure you even want to go to the party?”

  Her insinuation was clear. And it was even clearer as she leaned heavily against me.

  “My own brother’s wedding reception? Yes, I’m sure I want to go inside,” I snapped.

  She didn’t flinch back or anything. Just stared up at me with wide, dark eyes and blinked slow.

  “We should leave early,” she said, her hand trailing to the front of my pants.

  I grasped her wrist to halt her descent. “No.”

  She stu
ck her bottom lip out in a pout that probably worked on most other guys in the city, but I just ignored it. I was too busy scanning the room. I hadn’t seen English since Labor Day weekend. We’d texted, but it had been all work. Nothing to indicate that she’d thought about what I’d said. That she wanted to talk about it.

  I shouldn’t have been surprised. She’d made herself clear that night. This would end badly for us. And so, better to end it before that happened. Better to bring a date to the event and move on.

  Move on. That was what Camden had said. As if I’d fallen for Anna English or something. Rather than just hate-fucked her on Robert’s bathroom sink. And then fucked her into oblivion the whole night. It was great sex. But that wasn’t reason enough to get attached to her. It wasn’t like good sex couldn’t be found elsewhere.

  I just hadn’t gone looking.

  Not since Jane.

  I cleared her name from my mind. Move on. Move the fuck on, dude.

  I clenched my jaw as I maneuvered Poppy through the crowd. Not paying attention to her incessant chatter as I sought out my real quarry.

  And then I found her.

  Just like that, she appeared at the edge of the crowd as others moved in to fill the space of Penn and Natalie’s first dance. She wore a sleek black dress that seductively hugged her. Nothing flashy like Poppy’s low-cut top, but the dress lured me in like a siren’s call. Her long blonde hair fanned out into loose waves over her shoulders. She looked powerful and tempting. And for a second, I forgot that I wasn’t here for her. Not in that way.

  Move on already.

  Our eyes met across the distance. Her jaw clenched. Something fierce passed across her face. Something I wasn’t sure I’d seen before. Anger, fear, disgust. It all passed through her in a split second and then disappeared just as fast. Then, she turned to the side and began to speak in earnest to Robert Dawson.

  Was she here with him? He’d been interested in her. Not that many people would defy Camden, but it was possible.

  “Can we dance?” Poppy asked, her voice a whine.

  “Let’s get drinks instead,” I offered.

  She grinned and flashed me a small, clear baggie in her purse. “Maybe something a little stronger.”

  I put my hand out to obscure it from view. “Don’t just show that in public.”

  “Why not? No one here is going to care,” she said dismissively.

  I hadn’t put in all this fucking work just for a little bit of cocaine to bring down the evening. “You can do it if you want but not near me. Fuck.”

  “Stop acting so self-righteous,” she said with an eye roll. “Since when have you turned down a bump?”

  It’d been a long time. It had always been easier just to say yes. But English’s voice ran through my mind. Imagine what would happen to all the work we’d put in. What the fuck would be the point of me working for Kensington Corporation if I screwed it all up? I didn’t need a bump that bad.

  “Just do it later,” I ground out. “Let’s have a drink instead.”

  She shrugged a shoulder and followed me to the bar. I got her a Long Island iced tea and ordered myself a whiskey and Coke. Poppy finished her drink like a fish, as if it didn’t have five shots in it. She immediately asked for another one, which I procured irritably, and then forced her to wander over to where Camden stood tensely with Katherine.

  Honestly, I was a bit surprised that either of them had even come. Considering Katherine’s history with my brother and her equally terrible history with Natalie. Not to mention, Camden’s extreme dislike for Penn. Keeping up appearances was the name of their game.

  “I’m going to go to the powder room,” Poppy said, inelegantly patting her bag. “Don’t move.”

  I just shook my head in frustration as she headed into the restroom.

  Katherine sniffed her nose. “Is that the best you can do, Kensington?”

  I narrowed my eyes. “As charming as ever, Katherine.”

  “Haven’t you heard that she has a problem? She’s been in rehab more times than I can count.”

  I had heard that. I’d thought it was exaggerated. Or that she’d be able to keep it together tonight.

  “Not everyone can be as perfect as you, now can they?”

  Katherine just smiled. “That is a fact.”

  Through all of this, Camden hadn’t said a word. He just stared straight ahead blankly. He was my closest friend, and sometimes, he was such a closed book.

  “And how awkward is this lovely wedding reception for the pair of you?” I asked with a cheeky smile.

  But Katherine frowned and shot a tense look in Camden’s direction.

  Finally, Camden looked my way. “You tell me, Court. Should I have brought my wife to the wedding of the man she loves?”

  Katherine froze. “I don’t…”

  “Is it cruel of me to force her to watch?”

  “Probably,” I said with a shrug.

  “Camden,” she said through gritted teeth as her cheeks heated.

  But he wasn’t looking at her. “You think she’d learn something from the experience.”

  Katherine was nearly trembling with barely suppressed rage and something like grief.

  Her relationship with Penn had been fifteen years in the making. Even if she didn’t love my brother like she once had, it had to be difficult to watch him marry someone else. Especially someone she detested. And for Camden to rub it in…

  Fuck, he was a right bastard sometimes.

  “And you think you’d learn,” she finally said and then brushed past me as she strode away.

  “Why do you do that, man?” I asked Camden.

  His eyes followed his wife. A predator’s gaze. “Katherine thinks that she can play games. That I, like everyone else in her life, will fall into one of her pretty traps. That she can wrap me around her little finger. But she’s wrong. There is only black and white when it comes to Katherine. And one day, she’ll learn which side of the line I fall on.”

  Poppy returned right after that, rubbing at her nose and looking a little more out of it by the second. “Can we dance now?”

  “Sure,” I muttered halfheartedly.

  Camden smirked at me. “Have fun.”

  I flipped him off as I followed Poppy to the dance floor. The music had shifted from first and second dances to party music. Penn and Natalie were out there with their friends around them. My mother rubbed elbows with potential donors. Maybe once I got Poppy onto the dance floor, it’d be better. It seemed unlikely. But it was worth a shot.

  The one good thing was that she knew how to dance. I didn’t have to work with someone with no rhythm. But it sure as hell wasn’t like dancing with English at Dawson’s party. That had practically been foreplay. This was… just Poppy showing off for a crowd.

  When I looked up again, English stood with a small group. Her eyes were on me. Or more precisely, Poppy. Her face was perfectly neutral. But English said so much in that look.

  When the next song ended, I took a step away from the dance floor.

  “Another one,” Poppy said with a feral grin as she reached for me.

  “Let’s go talk to Gavin and Robert.”

  She sighed. “Seriously?”

  “We can dance after. Look, this song sucks anyway.”

  She huffed but nodded. “Fine. I do like Robert.”

  It was a weak excuse. I really wanted to see English. I wanted to know exactly what she was thinking behind those mysterious blue eyes. Because she shouldn’t feel anything but relief that I’d brought someone else.

  Poppy and I headed across the room to where English stood with Robert, Gavin, and a girl that I didn’t recognize but presumed to be Gavin’s date.

  “Kensington,” Gavin said, grabbing my hand. “How the hell did you land Poppy Arlington?”

  Poppy fluttered her eyelashes at Gavin and wrapped her hands around my bicep, leaning her head against my suit. “Just lucky, I guess.”

  The way she’d been acting all night, I
didn’t feel lucky. But I didn’t disagree with her statement. Not as my gaze shifted to English.

  “And you remember English?” I asked Poppy.

  Poppy’s brow furrowed. “You came to Robert’s party.”

  “I did,” English said.

  “She’s my publicist,” I added even though I hadn’t that night.

  English pursed her lips. “I am.”

  “Wow. So, you, like, fix people’s problems and handle their schedules and shit?”

  “Pretty much,” English said.

  “She’s being modest,” Gavin said grandly. “She’s the best in the business. She’s even making Court look like—what did you say, Court?—the golden boy of the Upper East Side?”

  Poppy laughed, low and breathy. “No one could be good enough for that. We all know you’re the bad one.”

  She bit her lip as she stared up at me. I wanted to rip my arm out of her grasp, but I left her there.

  “Thankfully, I am good enough for that,” English bit out, her voice acerbic.

  “Are you taking on new clients?” Poppy asked. “I could use someone like you to help with my image. Rehab is so tiresome.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Oh, I can pay,” Poppy assured her.

  English’s eyes narrowed. “You can’t afford me.”

  Poppy giggled as if she had never heard something so absurd. “Oh, I think I can. How much?”

  “I didn’t mean the money,” she said, her voice dripping acid.

  Poppy scrunched her face together. As if she couldn’t think of another reason English wouldn’t want to work with her. I had to keep my face blank or else I’d bust out laughing.

  I changed the subject before Poppy could figure it out. “So, you showed up with Dawson?”

  English looked startled. “What?”

  I pointed between her and Robert, where they stood together. “You’re here together.”

  “Whoa!” Robert said. “No way, bro.”

  It was my turn to look confused. “I thought…”

  “Wrong,” English snapped. “You thought wrong. Robert is here with Whitley. She just saw a client and went to say hello. I, on the other hand, showed up alone.”

  “Sucks,” Poppy said. “Couldn’t find a date?”