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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“English says those tabloids are all lies,” I bit out.

“Are you going to stake your relationship on that?”

I ground my teeth together. “No. Fuck. Of course fucking not.”

Katherine smiled. She looked triumphant. I was sure she was going to take credit for this if it worked out. Though I still had my doubts. Had she been gone long enough for her to not still hate me? Was it long enough for her not to dig her feet in like her dad had said she would? I wouldn’t know that… couldn’t know that until I saw her.

I turned to Camden as if to apologize for leaving, but he just waved me off. “Go.”

I handed him the pool stick. “Thanks, man.” I patted Katherine’s shoulder as I passed. “And you, too.”

She shrugged one shoulder. “Apparently, my job is to remind men how stupid they are.”

“Mission accomplished,” I told her.

Then, I hustled out of their apartment, prepared to fight for the woman I loved.

38

English

“This all appears to be in order,” Mr. Jenkins said. He was a partner at Jenkins, Jones, and Jameson LLC, one of the top-rated law firms in LA.

And Winnie and I were paying him a pretty penny for this meeting.

He shuffled the paperwork around. We still had a lot to do before English & Bardwaj would get off the ground, but we wanted to cross our t’s and dot our i’s before we got started.

“Mostly, we’re concerned about the non-compete,” Winnie said primly.

“Yes. Is it likely that Margery will sue us through Poise because of that document?” I asked.

“It’s possible,” he said finally. “Even likely. I’ve had clients who left popular PR firms in the past, and she’s attempted to go after them. A lot of firms believe that this protects them from building up agents and then having them walk out with all their clients. But it’s really a tool to keep talented agents like yourselves saddled to one agency for life and prohibiting you to work.”

“So, you believe we’ll still have to go to court?” I asked. “Even though, legally, it’s bullshit.”

He laughed. “To put it plainly, yes. But she won’t win. Most of my clients settle out of court, or the non-compete is thrown out the window. Legally, she can’t keep you from working.”

“And how do we ensure that she doesn’t win?” Winnie asked, leaning forward.

“I’ll go through the process with you and everything that I suggest you do for your business setup so that it’s as seamless as possible.”

“Excellent,” I said. I pulled out my legal pad and prepared to take Margery down.

* * *

A few hours later, Winnie and I stepped out of Mr. Jenkins’s office and back out into the California sunshine. It was a gorgeous eighty-one degrees in the middle of November, and I immediately stripped out of my blazer as we walked into the parking lot.

“This is actually going to work,” Winnie said in triumph.

“I think so.”

“I’m so excited. I can’t wait to see her face when she finds out we’ve started our own firm.”

“I hope I never see her face again, to be honest.”

Winnie tipped her phone at me. “Touché.”

“Okay, I have to head home. I need to take Taylor to a PT appointment soon.”

“How is she doing?” Winnie asked sympathetically.

“Well, it’s her first PT appointment. Mostly an assessment. She’s still in a lot of pain, and they don’t want to take it too fast, but you know, we’ll see.”

“And mentally?”

I breathed out heavily. “Worse than her leg, I think.”

Winnie nodded. “I’d suspect so.”

“She blames herself for what happened with her and her friend. And it doesn’t help that her friend’s parents won’t even update us on her progress.” I sighed heavily. “I don’t know. I think the mental side might take longer than the physical.”

“Doesn’t it always?” Winnie said with a sigh. “Well, good luck. Let me know if you need anything. I can pitch in.”

“Thanks,” I said with a smile and then walked over to my awaiting Mercedes.

It was nice to drive again. In New York, I never drove anywhere. There was no need. But I’d grown up, driving everywhere in LA. Sometimes, we just drove for fun to get out of the city and out of the traffic. It’d been six months since I was behind the wheel, and I suddenly didn’t want to give it up just yet to head home.

So, I drove.

I drove with the windows rolled down and my hair whipping around my face.

I drove like I was sixteen again, just figuring out how to live.

I drove, not even knowing where I was going until I was there.

I pulled into the old, familiar neighborhood. It looked smaller than I remembered. Grungier. As if the world had grown up around it, but this place had just sunken deeper and deeper and deeper. Growing into the ground instead of up out of it.



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