“I love you so much,” I told him.
“I love you too.”
The light reflected in his eyes and made them shine. He was beaming, his smile stretching from ear to ear. As if he’d never been happier than in this moment. And I had to admit that finding out I was going to run a presidential campaign had felt amazing. But this moment, here, with Sam, felt even better.
A dream job, an engagement, and burgers, all in one day.
What more could one girl ask for?
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THE HATING SEASON
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Court Kensington was a thorn in my side.
I was one of the top celebrity publicists in the world. Dealing with the mayor’s son after he got arrested should have been a piece of cake. And then on to bigger and better things as I used the promotion to rise to the next level in my career. Until my world falls apart, and Court is at the center of it all.
Kensington charm shouldn’t work on me. Not when I’ve sworn to never ever sleep with a client.
I had good intentions. I really did. But we all know the road to hell is paved with good intentions.
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The Hating Season
Chapter 1 — English
It had only taken forty-eight hours for my entire life to go to shit.
A trip across the pond, my cheating bastard of a husband, and a near-arrest by my current pain in the ass client. I hadn’t slept. I’d barely eaten. The only thing in my blood stream other than coffee as black as my heart was bitter righteous rage.
And I needed somewhere to direct it.
I probably should have gotten something to eat and slept off my jetlag. Instead, I jammed my finger into the button for the elevator that would take me up to Court Kensington’s penthouse. Because he had royally fucked up, and I wanted to give him a piece of my mind.
The door slid open soundlessly. I slipped inside and tapped my foot impatiently as it whisked me upstairs, opening directly into his apartment. I’d been impressed the first time I’d walked into his place. All clean modern lines, open airy floor plan, and Central Park views. I was used to Hollywood, and this was so New York. But I was over it now.
Everything about it just reminded me that Court Kensington had grown up with a silver spoon in his mouth. He might be the hottest, most eligible bachelor on the Upper East Side, but to me, he was just another client for me to clean up his messes.
“Court!” I snapped as my heels clicked onto the polished hardwood floors.
No response came from the confines of his apartment.
I should have known. The man drank like a fish and partied like a rockstar. There was no way he would be awake at this early of an hour.
It wasn’t stopping me. Not today.
“Court!” I called again.
I strode across the living room and down a hallway that led to his bedroom. The door stood already partially open. I toed it the rest of the way and breezed inside, flicking the lights on.
And what I saw stopped me in my tracks.
Court Kensington’s naked body laid out face down like Adonis on his pure white sheets. His bare ass visible for the world to see.
I swallowed.
I’d seen some gorgeous bodies before. I worked as a celebrity publicist for Christ’s sake. It was part of the job description. We dealt with asshole rockstars, entitled actors, and everything in between. I’d paid off prostitutes and thrown away condoms so they couldn’t be used as evidence and seen more dick and pussy that I wasn’t fucking than I needed to see in a lifetime. And still, Court made me come to a screeching halt.
Fuck, he was hot.
I hated that he was hot.
That he was the kind of grade-A asshole I’d been all over before I’d met Josh. Before Josh…
I ground my teeth. Just the thought of what he’d done to me brought me straight back to reality. Nothing like finding out your movie star husband was fucking his co-star to ruin your morning.
“Court, get your ass out of bed.”
He tilted his head to the side, squinting up at me through a vision of long lashes. “English?” he groaned.
“That’d be me,” I said. “We need to talk.”
He blinked a few times and then propped himself up on his elbow. “What time is it?”
“Almost eight.”
“In the morning?” he asked blearily.
“Yes. Now put on some fucking clothes. I’ve had a really long night, and I would like to get this over with.”
“Can we do this some other time?” he asked as he pulled the pillow back over his head.
“Does it look like I’m fucking around?”
He peered back up at me. I don’t know what he saw. What degree of not-taking-your-shit was on my face, but he nodded. “Fine.”
I hustled back out of his bedroom, trying to clear the vision of that muscular ass from my mind. I knew he’d take his sweet time. So, I brewed a pot of coffee. Because what I really needed was more caffeine in my system.
He came out fifteen minutes later in a pair of black joggers. He pulled a white T-shirt on over his head as he walked into the living room. His six-pack still visible for the few seconds before the material fell over his stomach.
He tousled his dark hair and quirked a smile at me. “That for me?”
“Here,” I said, handing him a mug of coffee.
“So, what’s this all about?” he asked around a yawn.
I set my empty mug on the counter. “What in the actual fuck were you thinking last night?”
“What do you mean?”
I narrowed my eyes. “You went to an underground gambling ring. The party was raided by the police. You barely made it out in time.”
“Oh…yeah. I mean, I didn’t expect the party to get raided,” he said with a shrug.
“You went to an underground gambling ring!” I cried. “Need I remind you that you were recently arrested with your girlfriend for fraud and grand larceny! That the only reason I was hired was to keep you out of trouble, to show the world a softer side of Court Kensington. So that you don’t ruin your mother’s reelection campaign for mayor of New York?”
“First of all, there were no charges against me. And second, Jane isn’t my girlfriend.”
“She was at the time and literally no one else cares that you weren’t charged. They see you as the trainwreck that doesn’t care about crime. While your mother is tough on crime. If you’d been arrested last night, can you even imagine the consequences?”
Court shrugged. “It would have been fine. You’re blowing the whole thing out of proportion.”
“Am I?” I asked. “I would have lost my job. Lark likely would have lost her job. Your mother would lose the primary run. And you, you’d be right back where you started before you had me. We’d lose all ground.”