by K. A. Linde
Anna. I almost laughed. I’d gotten so used to calling her English that Anna almost felt strange. “English is great at her job. Even if she drives me crazy.”
“Good. That means she’s keeping you in line.”
I kept a tight rein on what I wanted to say to that comment.
A knock sounded on the door. Thank fuck for that interruption.
“Come in,” my mother called.
The door opened, and a face appeared. A face I hadn’t seen in months.
“Penn?” I asked in surprise. I stepped forward and shook my younger brother’s hand. “I didn’t think you were back from Paris.”
He’d disappeared at the start of the summer. Literally left the day after my arrest with no intention of returning until the semester began at Columbia, where he was a philosophy professor. I didn’t blame him one bit for ditching the summer campaign season.
“Just got back today,” he said.
“What a surprise,” our mother said with a genuine smile on her face. “I hope you voted.”
Penn pushed the door open a little wider. “We both did.”
And standing there in a green sundress was Natalie Bishop. She grinned up at my brother as if he was the only one in the room. The center of her entire universe. I wondered what that felt like.
“Hello, Mayor Kensington,” Natalie said, taking a step inside. Penn closed the door behind her as her gaze shifted to me. “Hi, Court.”
“Natalie,” my mother said with raised eyebrows. “Were you both in Paris this whole summer?”
“Actually,” Penn said, taking Natalie’s hand in his, “we have something we wanted to tell you both.”
Natalie held up her left hand. “We got married.”
My jaw dropped open. I didn’t have to look at my mother to know that she was making the same face. I jumped in before she could say something stupid.
“Fuck! Congrats, man.” I held my hand out for him again and shook it. Then, I dragged Natalie in for a hug. “You’re family now… Natalie Kensington.”
Natalie flushed. “I suppose I am.”
“When did this happen?” our mother asked, shock evident in her voice.
“In May, in Paris,” Penn said.
“But… it’s not legal in the States if you were married in France,” she said, calculating something in that quick mind of hers. “You’ll need a ceremony here.”
Penn grinned. It was a Kensington grin that said he’d already figured that out. “We actually went to the courthouse this morning to make it official here.”
“I guess we have two wedding dates now,” Natalie said with a strained laugh.
I could see that she was trying to hold it together in front of our mother. I knew they had fraught history. But who fucking cared? Mommy dearest was going to have to get used to it now. Penn never did anything this rash. It was fucking great.
“A reception,” my mother blurted out. “You’ll let me throw a reception.”
Penn and Natalie exchanged a glance. They’d already discussed this, too. That made sense if they’d had all summer to plan out this attack.
“We’d love you to,” Natalie said kindly.
“Wonderful,” she said. “Just wonderful.”
Then, she stepped around her enormous desk and came to face her son and daughter-in-law. To my surprise, she pulled Natalie into a hug.
“It’ll be great, having you in the family.”
And she sounded sincere.
Natalie swallowed and nodded her head. “Thank you.”
“What this means is, we need drinks,” I insisted. “Have to toast the newlyweds.”
My mother and Penn rolled their eyes at the exact same time. But Natalie just laughed.
“That sounds like a good time. Right, Penn?”
Penn shrugged. “I could go for a drink.”
“Have one at the victory party tonight,” my mother said. “We’ll have two things to celebrate then.”
“Oh right, the party,” Penn said. His eyes cut to mine, and he arched an eyebrow. “I forgot.”
“You’ll have to be there to show off that pretty diamond to everyone,” my mother insisted.
She tugged Natalie aside and began to discuss stuff for the reception. Already, Natalie looked overwhelmed.
“So… getting married without all the fanfare during campaign season. Nicely done, little brother.”
He shook his head. “How have you been? Dealing with the arrest all right? I didn’t hear much while I was gone. Charges were dropped?”
I shrugged. “Charges were never officially filed. Mom thought they were going to come back with questions for us. It was in a lot of the papers that I was getting charged. But it never panned out. Mom did the only sensible thing and hired me a publicist. Can you believe that I get to play the part of the golden boy of the Upper East Side?”
Penn snorted. “How is that going?”
“Surprisingly well. English is really good at her job.”
“English? Anna English?”
“Yeah. You know her?”
“She’s friends with Lark. I met her a few times when she was at Columbia for her JD. I thought she lived in LA.”
“Yeah well, Mom wanted the best.”
“Huh,” Penn said. “Interesting. Well, it’s good to know you’re in the right hands. I can’t imagine anyone making you look like the golden boy of anything.”
I laughed. “Me either.”
“Should we go get a drink? I think I have to rescue Natalie before she decides to divorce me on our second wedding day.”
“I’m down.”
I was surprised that he even wanted to go out to get drinks with me. Before he and Natalie had gotten serious, he wouldn’t even talk to me. All we had done was egg each other on and yell at one another. But… it was good to have my brother back. He was the only other one who knew what it was really like to grow up a Kensington. That it wasn’t as glamorous as it might seem. Instead, it was a world of fucked up bullshit. And we were the pawns being moved around the board, no matter the damage.
We might have gone overboard.
Celebrating was an official sport on the Upper East Side.
Natalie dramatically rolled her eyes as we crashed into the cab that took us uptown to the primary victory party. “Can’t you boys hold your liquor?” she asked with a laugh.
“We drank a bottle, love,” Penn said, nuzzling into her neck.
She giggled and swatted at him. “You’re the worst.”
“If you say so.”
“Fuck, stop,” I groaned. “You’re so in love. It’s disgusting.”
Natalie elbowed me in the ribs. “Oh, shut up, Court. If I have to deal with your drunk ass and properly get you to Percy Tower for this party, then you can deal with our cuteness.”
I held up my hands. “Fine. Continue if you must.”
I wasn’t even upset. I was too pleasantly intoxicated for that. Plus, I was glad that Penn was happy. After all the shit he and Natalie had gone through, I could only wish them the best.
We pulled up in front of Percy Tower and headed into the ballroom where the party was already underway. Natalie pushed our way through the crowd and miraculously to the bar. Damn, she was a good woman.
I took whatever she’d offered me, and then we meandered back to the stage area. I could see most of my friends were congregated together—Lark and Sam, Katherine and Camden, Gavin and Whitley, and… English. Our eyes met across the short distance. She looked away first, returning to her conversation with a frazzled Lark.
“Should we go over?” I asked, gesturing to the group.
Natalie stalled when her eyes settled on the lot of them. “Um, you know, I think I’m going to pass.”
“I thought we were going to deal with this,” Penn said.
“Yeah, but maybe not today. I don’t know what Katherine is going to do.”
“Nothing,” I said. “She’s so far up Camden’s ass.”
Penn frowned. “You
’re right. Maybe not today.”
Natalie visibly relaxed and took a sip from her glass of whiskey. “So, this is an election party.”
“Pretty disappointing, huh?” I asked.
She shrugged. “It’s not as glamorous as I thought it’d be, considering the Upper East Side.”
“That’s the election night party,” I told her. “Ballgowns, tuxedos, the like.”
“Ah, more in line with what I’d guess.”
My eyes drifted back over to my group of friends. English laughed at whatever Sam had just said. Then, she looked briefly in my direction and excused herself. Now, she was walking straight over to me. Which made no fucking sense. She’d been avoiding me like the plague, and now, she wanted to see me?
English’s smile wasn’t fake when she appeared before me. “Well, we made it,” she said with exuberance. “The election results so far look favorable. It seems we held the damage to your mother’s campaign at a minimum.”
I arched an eyebrow at her. “That’s good.”
“Lark is getting a few days off after this. So, I think you’ll be free, too.”
“Sounds like a riot.”
Penn laughed and held his hand out. “It’s English, right? You’re the one who has had the unfortunate job of keeping my brother in line?”
They shook.
“Yes. It’s good to see you again, Penn.”
“And this is my wife, Natalie. I don’t believe you’ve met.”
“Wife!” English exclaimed.
Penn laughed and ran his hand back through his hair. “Yeah. Long story.”
Natalie stepped forward. “So nice to meet you.”
“You, too. I’ve heard so much about you.”
Natalie winced. “All good things, I hope.”
English shrugged. “You caught Penn Kensington. What more could a girl want?”
I narrowed my eyes at her. Really? Really?
“Meanwhile, I’ve only heard good things about you,” Penn said. “Court said you’re the best in the business. That you’re really keeping him in line. Glad that we have you working for us even if it takes you away from your life in LA. It takes a real professional to deal with Court.”
Our eyes met in that second. As if she couldn’t believe I’d said that about her. As if it couldn’t get more awkward than being complimented on her professionalism after what had happened between us. As if she couldn’t not look at me.
English cleared her throat and turned back to Penn. “Yes, well, not much of a life in LA anymore, to be honest. And… I’m always up for a challenge.”
As was I.
“Well, I should get back,” English said, nodding to Lark. “I just wanted to let you know that we have a break now that the primary is over. I’m going to figure out the plan of attack for the general election. We can go from there.”
“Sure, English,” I drawled. “Whatever you want.”
She nodded her head and smiled at Penn and Natalie. “Really great seeing you two again.”
The minute she was out of earshot, Penn rounded on me. “What is going on?”
I took a sip of my drink. “What do you mean?”
“Is there something going on between you and English?”
“No.”
She’d made it pretty clear that nothing was going on.
“Are you fucking your publicist?”
“Presently?” I asked sarcastically, leaning into it as a defense mechanism. “Nope.”
“Jesus Christ,” Penn said with a sigh. “Please don’t fuck this up.”
My eyes traveled back to English and the short black dress she was wearing. The heels that made her calves and ass look spectacular as she walked away from us. Walked away from me… again.
“Don’t worry about that,” I said with disdain. “I’m just a client.”
9
English
Leslie Kensington won the nomination.
And it felt damn good.
I understood in that moment why Lark was her deputy campaign manager. Why she put in the long hours and gave up sleep and food and time. It felt sweet. And it made everything I’d done with Court feel worth it, too.
Or at least, most of what I’d done with Court.
God, I just needed to shake what had happened. We had three more months together. I still had a lot of work to do to undo years of his bad reputation. It would be hard to start with. If we kept up like this, it would be nearly impossible.
I’d taken the time that I needed away from him. I would need a lot longer to grieve my relationship with Josh. But I couldn’t keep putting my life and my career on hold. Three months was all I had left. If I could keep Court out of trouble that long and make people see a sliver of what I wanted to see… I thought I could pull it off.
“English, you’re supposed to be celebrating,” Lark said, appearing at my side. “Not moping at the edge of our party.”
I forced a smile on my face. “Just stuck on work. You know how it is.”
“I do. In fact, I’m so exhausted that I think I’m hallucinating. Sam and I aren’t going to survive this party long.”
“You haven’t slept in two weeks. You should go home with Sam.”
She smiled as she found Sam’s gaze. He winked at her. “Maybe you’re right.”
“Now, I don’t think you’re talking about sleep.”
She laughed. “Maybe not.”
My eyes drifted to Court, who stood next to Sam. He’d migrated to our circle an hour ago after leaving his brother behind. It was truly unfair that he looked so damn good, even when he was wasted drunk.
The second he shifted toward me, I looked away. Jesus, how old was I?
Lark gave me a suspicious look. “Are you okay?”
“Eh,” I said reluctantly.
“You seem out of it. How are things with Josh?”
I shrugged. “Don’t really want to talk about him. I’m filing for divorce.”
Lark cringed. “I’m sorry, English. I really thought Josh was it.”
“Me too,” I whispered.
“I’m not going to say there are other fish in the sea because that’s bullshit. But you’re beautiful and smart and funny and successful. This isn’t the end. It’s just an end.”
“Thank you, Lark,” I said around a lump in my throat. “The whole thing is just a bit of a nightmare. He doesn’t want to get a divorce even though he’s the one who cheated. I hired an attorney back home, but fuck, I hate the whole thing.”
“No judge is going to see that he cheated in the tabloids and say that you’re not separated. He’s just fucking with your head.”
“You’re right.” I needed to do some classic English compartmentalization. I needed to treat Josh just like any other douchebag client. Except bury him instead of try to save him. “You’re a lifesaver.”
“Always here to help.”
“Now, I need another drink, so I can forget about this conversation.”
Lark laughed. “I think I’m going to find Sam and get out of here. Get drunk with Whitley and Katherine and the guys. It’ll be good for you to cut loose.”
I nearly choked. Cutting loose was the last thing I needed. I’d done that, and I was still uncertain about the results.
Lark patted my shoulder once and then walked over to Sam. He oriented himself to her movements. He took her hand and kissed it, nodding along to whatever she was saying. Then he smiled a genuine smile and tilted his head toward the door.
I could feel Court looking at me. His gaze sliding down my face and over my shoulders, down my black dress. It was so intimate that I could practically feel his hands on me. But I wouldn’t meet his eyes. I still watched Lark and Sam as they disappeared through the crowd. Then, before I could make the mistake of looking at him, I turned away and headed to the nearest bar.
The victory party was well under way. Leslie had given her speech ages ago, and I hadn’t seen her since. Everyone was drunk. And either I needed to join them or I just needed to
leave like Lark.
Except going home to an empty house sounded less than ideal.
I stepped into the short drink line. Thankfully, it didn’t take too long before I ordered.
“A shot of tequila and a gin and tonic. Light on the tonic.”
The bartender frowned. “We’re not doing shots.”
I slipped a twenty into the tip jar. “I’ll take a shot of tequila and a gin and tonic.”
She shrugged and began to pour.
“Make that two shots.”
“Court,” I murmured.
He grinned that wicked grin and tossed a second twenty into the tip jar. “English.”
“What are you doing?” I hissed.
He shrugged. “Enjoying myself. It is a victory party after all. We’re here to celebrate.”
The bartender placed the two shots before us. She plunked down two limes and gestured to the salt.
“Shall we toast?” he asked mischievously.
“To what?”
“The primary victory, of course.”
“Of course,” I said, perfectly neutral.
He reached for the shot of tequila and held it aloft. I mirrored his movements, wondering exactly how drunk he was. He was practically swaying on his feet. It took a lot of alcohol to make someone like Court Kensington sway.
“To another three months,” I muttered as we clinked our plastic cups together.
He grinned like the devil he was and then tipped the shot back into his mouth. I took a deep breath and then followed suit. The tequila burned like the fiery pits of hell all the way down my throat. I managed not to cough. But I reached for the lime like a drowning man searched for air.
I sucked on the sliver of fruit, letting the lime juice soothe my throat. Court just watched. He didn’t even bother with his own lime. So, I stole his, too. He quirked another smile in my direction.
“A little too much for you?” he asked softly.
“Tequila is the worst,” I told him, tossing the second lime. “But it does work the best.”
“Hmm,” he muttered.
I grasped my gin and tonic and stepped away from the bar. This was good. This was fine. We could talk like regular adults and be around each other and not rip each other’s clothes off. It was… functional. Sort of.