The Hating Season Read online K.A. Linde

Categories Genre: Angst, Billionaire, Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors:
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 96802 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
<<<<122230313233344252>99
Advertisement


“I’m well aware.”

“But off the record, was he really involved with his ex’s schemes?”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “If you ask him that, I will pull this entire shoot and blacklist you from celebs in all of New York City.”

“You don’t have that sway,” she bit out.

“Try me,” I snarled.

Fear pricked at her. It helped that I was at least six inches taller than her and could stare down at her over my nose.

“I wasn’t going to ask,” she said hastily. “It was just a joke between two girls.”

I was saved from answering by the appearance of Court Kensington. Evelyn wasn’t the only one who stared helplessly as he stepped into the room as if straight off of the cover of GQ.

I’d hired the same hair and makeup team as his last interview. And I’d brought in a stylist who had combed through his closet and brought in a few complementary pieces. Inherently, I’d known that he was going to look good… the best. He had to look the best for this. But I hadn’t prepared myself for it.

For the dark hair that had been perfectly styled. None of his messy waves from him running his fingers through it. I couldn’t even tell that he had makeup on, but whatever they’d done highlighted all the best features. Especially those blue eyes. They were usually such a radiating ocean blue. But now, they seared me with their intensity. The dark, mysterious depths of the ocean. Waves crashed in those eyes, and I was the one pulled under by his current.

He had a few outfits, but we’d started him off in a debonair three-piece navy-blue suit that the stylist had taken one look at and actually shrieked with delight. It had been handmade from Savile Row in London, fit to his incredible form, and paired with brown oxfords that likely cost more than my parents’ house back in the Valley. The full effect was dazzling.

Neither of us spoke.

He just arched his eyebrow. “I’ll take that to mean I look all right.”

Evelyn cleared her throat. “Yes. You look wonderful.” She coughed again. “Let me introduce you to the photographer.”

“By all means,” he said. His attention shifted just briefly from Evelyn up to me, and he smirked.

I knew what that look meant. And it made me want to gouge his eyes out. The cheeky little shit.

I took a deep breath and then followed them over to where the photo shoot was taking place. Evelyn had whipped all of this together in two days, and it looked good. Exactly the kind of Upper East Side sophistication I’d wanted. And as he stepped into the space, he took over the room. God, when he tried, it was as if he were a different person.

The photographer, Alejandro, started in on his subject. He was a professional. The best we could get on short notice. But after only a few minutes in Alejandro’s care, all my fears evaporated. Not only was Alejandro exceptional at his job, but Court also acted like he had been in front of a camera his whole life.

It made me wonder what Court could have done with his life if he’d just cared an ounce more. If he’d planned to use his MBA. If he’d liked anything as much as drinking and partying. If he’d just tried.

I’d grown up with a whole lot of nothing. I’d had to claw my way up the social ladder. I’d faked my way into parties and meetings. My ability to lie like a pro had always come in handy. And still, even when I belonged, I kept reaching for more, more, more. I wanted everything and then some. I wasn’t content with success. I had to have it all.

And yet, I had always been attracted to these kinds of guys. The ones who were the hot fucking assholes. The gorgeous model in LA who thought his looks and cocaine habit would make him a star. The party-hard rock star who could make out only three chords but had the look. The douche actor who had been in three commercials and thought he would be the next Brad Pitt just because a few people had said he looked like him.

I’d thought it was a miracle when I met Josh. He was different. He was going places. Sure, he partied with the rest of us, but he was never out of control. And he’d made me want to rise to my full potential. I had already been working for Poise, but the years with Josh was when I hadn’t just climbed; I’d soared.

It was still hard to believe that he’d been stupid enough to sleep with Celeste. To ruin it all.

I shook my head to clear my thoughts. I didn’t need to think about any of this. Not about the ex-douchebags or Josh or even Court. Because that wasn’t happening again with Court. I was forcing ambition on Court Kensington. It wasn’t the same thing as him having any himself.



<<<<122230313233344252>99

Advertisement