The Hating Season Read online K.A. Linde

Categories Genre: Angst, Billionaire, Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 96802 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
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As soon as I entered, I went in search of the Upper East Siders I did know. Preferably Lark. But I couldn’t see to find her, and the room was packed. It seemed that they had invited every person they knew.

To my surprise, Whitley was the first person I recognized. Her petite, pixie frame was clad in a silver dress that only brought out her recently dyed dark red hair.

“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.



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