“Are you still breathing?” Lark asked with a laugh.
I shook out of my stupor. “Sometimes, the construction eye comes out. This house is…a marvel.”
“I know nothing of construction and totally agree. It’s probably my favorite house I’ve ever stayed in. And all my friends and my parents have properties in the Hamptons. Nothing beats the Kensington Cottage.”
I could see that.
Then English appeared out of a back doorway. She rushed toward Lark, pulling her into a hug. “Oh my god, I’m so glad you’re here. I’ve been cooped up with him for two days, and it’s been…” She trailed off as if she couldn’t think of words to describe how awful it was to have been here this long with Court.
“You used to work with rockstars. You’ve had to pay off prostitutes and keep sex tapes out of the news. You convinced that one guy to have his wife say she was sick to explain her absence and had her agree not to divorce him for sleeping with other men until after his movie premiered.”
English sighed. “I regret telling you about my profession.”
“Court cannot be worse than that.”
“He’s not. He’s a different kind of terrible.” She shrugged. “All of those people wanted my help. Court would rather throw his reputation and everything to deal with Jane in a burning building that he’d lit on fire himself.”
“You’ll get to him,” Lark said.
“Come on. I need your help with something before the shoot tomorrow.” She looked up at me. “You don’t mind if I borrow her, do you?”
“No, that’s fine. I’ll just go find Court.”
“Okay, great! He’s out back,” English said and then yanked a reluctant Lark down a hallway.
I abandoned the bags, figuring I’d find out where we were sleeping later, and went in search of Court. I walked through the living room, past the dining room, peeked into the fucking insane kitchen, and then stepped through the back door. The view took my breath away. A giant deck with a large pool and hot tub. Past that was the Atlantic Ocean, waves breaking along the beach.
“Wow,” I breathed.
“Yeah, it’s nicer than the city views right now,” Court said.
I turned to find him lounging in a chair with a beer in his hand. He was looking out toward the ocean, his gaze distant.
“Hey,” I said. “I can’t believe you grew up like this.”
He shrugged. “It was a total hardship.”
“I can see that,” I said sarcastically.
He grinned up at me. There was something of the spark of Court Kensington in that look. “It’ll be better when everyone is here for the party tomorrow. This house is made for parties.”
“I heard that you’re giving English hell,” I said as I took the seat next to him.
He raised an eyebrow. “Is that what she said?”
“Just that you don’t want the help.”
“That at least is true. I don’t want it. I don’t need it. No one fucking cares what I do. They never have.”
I leaned back in my chair and surveyed the pool for a few seconds before responding, “I actually think you do need her help.”
“Why is that?” he asked with bite in his voice.
“Look, Lark and I were out yesterday, doing voter registration for the campaign.”
“Isn’t that beneath you?” Court asked with a laugh.
“It’s the backbone of the campaign. It’s pretty important. But when we were out there, we talked to a lot of voters. And at least a dozen people brought you up. People know what happened. They don’t like how it reflects on your mom, and they don’t want to elect her because of it.” I took a deep breath before saying, “And we need her.”
“Why?” he asked, but the bite was gone.
“Because she makes a difference.”
“She’s a shit mother,” Court quipped.
“She’s a great politician.”
Court sighed. “I see where you’re going with this. I should just do what she says because the city needs her. Even if she’s never fucking cared about me.”
“She seemed to care the day you were arrested.”
Court was silent on that regard.
“I can’t speak to it. I have great parents. But…I’ve been in this feud with my brother. A couple years ago, he did something horrible to me. For a while, I would blame my parents anytime they saw him. I’d refuse to come over if he was there.”
“That sounds familiar. Penn and I didn’t get along for a long time either.”
“Yeah, but I realized I was punishing my parents for what he’d done. So, I stopped. I still see him. We’re civil. We’re not the same, but it’s not my parents’ fault that Jake fucked up and that I don’t want to see him anymore.” I shrugged. “I’m not sure it’s your mother’s fault that she seems to know what the city needs more than what you need. Especially if you don’t tell her.”
Court looked off in the distance for a long time without speaking. I thought he might tell me to fuck off or something. But eventually, he just nodded.
“Maybe you’re right.” He glanced at me. “Is this what people who aren’t forced to repress their feelings learn from growing up in stable households?”
I snorted. “Something like that.”
Court held his hand out, and I shook it. “Come on. Let’s go get you beer. I need to be comfortably buzzed tonight since I have to be stone-cold sober in the morning for this magazine shoot.” He rolled his eyes. “If I have to play by English’s rules, I’m going to look damn good in that magazine.”
I laughed as we stepped back inside and retrieved a beer. Gavin came back over, and we all went back on the deck, laughing and joking while the girls were off doing who knew what.
And I realized that for the first time since moving to New York a year ago, I finally felt like I belonged. In this place. With this group. With Lark.
It all felt right. I just hoped I could hold on to it without it slipping between my fingers.
27
Lark
The house was empty.
Sam had left with Gavin and Camden to go golfing. Whitley had plans to meet a friend for some shopping in town. Katherine had claimed she needed a spa day and would be over before the party tonight.
Any minute now, the camera crew and photographers would be here to take over the house we’d spent all morning getting ready. English had had a cleaning crew come in and make the place spotless the day before, but after we’d partied a little harder than we’d planned the night before, we’d had to buckle down and get it sparkling again.
Now, English was just tapping her foot and waiting for everyone to show up.
“I cannot believe you managed to get Court Kensington into hair and makeup,” I told her.
She shrugged. “I can’t either. He’d been adamantly against it up until this morning. Then he’d just complied as if he’d put all his energy into irritating me and then flipped on a light switch. I’m not complaining. I’m glad he did it. He’s gorgeous, but everyone needs makeup on camera nowadays.”