“I’m going to go on record and say this is a bad idea,” English said, adding second chance to the No list. “You just had to deal with all the Thomas shit. That asshole still works as a senior executive for St. Vincent’s Enterprise. I mean, your parents actually sided with your ex-boyfriend over you in the fallout. I don’t think you’re ready to head straight into Sam-level territory. Can’t you just find a nice, normal guy?”
“Says the girl married to a movie star.”
English laughed. “I mean, we’re not all lucky enough to find a Josh Hutch. But I know there’s a guy out there for you. I just don’t know if it’s Sam Rutherford.”
“Jesus, I need to get it together. He’s just an ex, right?” I glanced up to find her nodding approvingly. “He’s just this guy I dated for a year, like, five years ago.”
“Exactly. I mean, you still hang out with your crew, and haven’t you slept with Penn, Lewis, and Rowe?”
I glared at her. “We do not bring up Bad Lark when we’re trying to get me to do the right thing here.”
English snorted. “Fair point.”
“I can put the past behind us. I’m a professional. I can deal with Sam being in the office for the next six months. It’ll be fine…right?”
“Well, if it’s not, we can always drink,” English offered. She scribbled wasted into the Yes column. “I was thinking we could go out tomorrow night with Whitley before I leave for LA. You could even invite Katherine.”
“Oh god, Katherine and Whitley in the same room. That sounds like a perfect way for me to forget that Sam is in town.”
“Exactly. You game?”
I nodded. Even though I knew that I’d pay for it the next day at work, I really needed a night out with my girls. Maybe I could get drunk enough to forget this disaster had even happened.
3
Lark
I headed back to the office with more confidence than I’d left it. Thank god for Anna English. I didn’t know how I would have gotten through the rest of the afternoon without her. Just being able to talk to her had made it all seem better. Even if she didn’t actually use her fixer capabilities on me. Or maybe…she had.
I knew that I’d have to face Sam later. But I was hoping to get through all of my work first before it came to that. I still needed to go through the field report from Robert on what the campaign was doing on the ground to reach voters before the primary. Plus, Aspen had told me this morning that new messaging was coming in from Matthew, head of the political department, and she’d scheduled a joint consult with him and Beth, who ran the technology department and disseminated policy information on the website and social media. I was already anticipating then having to take it to Christine in communications for the speech Mayor Kensington would give at the fundraising banquet next week.
Just putting together the flow of the departments that I coordinated with helped to calm me down. But the look on Aspen’s face when I got back to my desk ruined it all.
“What happened?”
Aspen rolled her eyes. “Nothing. The mayor’s son is here.”
I frowned. “I’m guessing it’s not Penn based on that face.”
“Out of luck. Court’s here.”
“And causing problems?”
“Doesn’t he always?” she grumbled.
I sighed, letting all the work I’d planned to do spiral out of my head. “I’ll deal with him.”
“You’re a godsend.”
“Could you just go through the field report from Robert and mark it up for me? I’ll look at it when I get back.”
Aspen frowned. “Um, I haven’t gotten that yet.”
“Jesus. Okay, email Robert and ask him to send over the field report ASAP. You know what? Email Matthew about the messaging, too. I want to go over it before it gets to Beth and Christine.”
“On it,” she said with another salute.
Then I turned and went in search of the number one problem on the mayor’s campaign—Court Kensington.
I’d been friends with the Kensingtons my entire life. Penn Kensington was still one of the closest friends I had. The only other person in our five-member crew who had gotten out of the Upper East Side cycle. He was a philosophy professor at Columbia, bucking all tradition, and trying to live the good life with his girlfriend, Natalie.
Court was another story. He was a straight trainwreck. As far as I could tell, he had a very loose, open relationship with his girlfriend, Jane. That led him down all the wrong rabbit holes. His mother had had to get him out of more than one scandalous situation. Plus, he ruined every campaign event at which he was in attendance. As if he had been prepped to self-destruct.
I rounded the corner, ready to find out what mayhem Court Kensington was causing, and my stomach dropped. There he was. With the inimitable Gavin King…and Sam.
Sam seemed animated, clearly in the middle of a story. He hadn’t seen me yet. And for a second, I just watched his expression. The easy grin that came to his face. The laugh that came from all three of them when he hit the end of the story. It was so effortless.
He was handling Court and Gavin like a pro. They didn’t even seem to know they were being handled. Sam had that way with people.
My heart thumped before I could remind it to stay professional. That I couldn’t deal with this right now. And it was going to be fine having Sam in the office for the next six months.
“All right,” Sam said with another laugh, “I have a meeting with Gibbs soon. I have to get back into the office. Good to meet you both.”
He shook hands with Court and Gavin. They all joked around for another minute, and then he disappeared into the legal department. I stepped out from where I’d surreptitiously been watching their interaction.
“Ah, looks like we’ve been caught,” Court said as he turned to face me. “Larkin St. Vincent, always a pleasure.”
“Hello, Court,” I said dryly. I nodded at his partner in crime. “Gavin.”
“Lark, my love,” Gavin said with a wink.
“I heard that you’re causing trouble again.”
Court shrugged and leaned back against the wall. He was the classic too-hot-for-his-own-good type. Everything about him exuded confidence and charisma until it turned on a dime.
“Does that sound like us?” Gavin asked. He was also devilishly handsome with dark hair shot through with red and keen, cunning eyes.
“Yes,” I said automatically.
Gavin came from old Texas oil money. He wasn’t Upper East Side rich, but considering his ancestors had found the oil in the Permian Basin, he had just as much power. He’d gone to Harvard with Court and his best friend, Camden Percy. I’d met him a few times since he’d taken over the New York branch of his family company, Dorset & King.
“What exactly are you two doing here?”
“We heard that you needed a new speaker for the banquet after Nina Warren had to drop out because of that Warren business scandal,” Court said easily.
He looked to me for a reaction, but I refused to give him one. I could play Upper East Side politics as well as he could.