CRUEL TRUTH (Cruel #4)

3. Lark

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.

“And?”

“Well, Gavin’s family is longtime friends with Jay Neville.”

“Oh, wow. You’re friends with Jay Neville?” I asked, momentarily lost in my political nerdom.

Jay Neville was the former deputy chief of staff in the White House and now a successful political consultant. He was a legend.

Gavin laughed. “Here I thought, I’d have to woo you with sweet platitudes. And it turns out, my connections win out. Yes, Jay lived next door to my cousin. I grew up with his daughters.”

“That’s incredible,” I said honestly. “You think he’ll speak?”

“Sure,” Gavin said with a wink. “Anything for you, love.”

Court shook his head and pushed Gavin backward a step. “Sorry to disappoint. You might be my friend, but you have no chance with Larkin St. Vincent. The St. Vincents wouldn’t sully their good name for you.”

My cheeks flushed as Court laid out my family as if it explained why someone like Gavin King had no chance with me. My family name ruining everything all over again.

“Thanks, d**k,” Gavin said, punching Court in the shoulder.

I forced a laugh. I wasn’t actually interested in Gavin anyway. He might be good-looking and charming, but if Thomas was any indication, guys either wanted me for my money or thought they couldn’t get me because of my money. And the only guy who hadn’t known who I was had shattered my heart and was now working for me. Great.

“Okay, back to the point,” I said.

“We need to get in line?” Court guessed.

“Yes, please.” I pointed between them. “I’m not sure who is keeping whom in line, but figure it out.”

“That’d be me,” Gavin said with a grin.

“We’re doomed,” I muttered.

Both guys laughed, and as they headed toward the exit, I considered my job accomplished. I’d managed to get out of that situation with laughter instead of frayed nerves. It didn’t guarantee that either boy would actually behave, but it was looking up.

My eyes strayed to the direction of the legal department. I wanted to go back there and confront Sam right now. Get everything out in the open. But I wouldn’t do it. For one, I had too much work to do. I’d already lost enough time today, and I couldn’t afford any more.

So with a sigh, I backtracked to my office, thanked Aspen for getting me the documents I needed, and barricaded myself inside. The work was slow and tiresome even if I did enjoy it. While I was the deputy campaign manager, my direct boss was the actual campaign manager, Shawn. He was the big-picture guy who controlled access to the mayor and was the last say on basically everything. And we went back and forth all day about the new messaging research that had come in.

Sometime later, a knock sounded on my open door. I couldn’t even remember leaving it open. My head snapped up. I was prepared to tell them I was busy, but then I faltered.

Sam was standing in my doorway.

“Hey,” I said.

“Hey,” he said with that easy smile. He leaned against the doorframe, taking up nearly the whole damn thing. “How are you doing?”

“Um…I’m kind of busy actually. Did you talk to Aspen?”

“I think she left already.”

“She did?” I asked in surprise.

He laughed. “I think everyone’s left, Lark. It’s late.”

I checked the time and groaned. “How is it almost nine? Christ.”

“Burning the candle at both ends already, I see.”

Sam stepped in the room, uninvited, as if he belonged in the damn place. His steps were even and measured. No rush or hurry to him. As if nothing affected him. Not even me.

“I just have a lot to do,” I told him.

He grabbed a chair, unbuttoned his suit jacket, and sank into it before my desk. He crossed one leg over the other at the ankle and stared back at me. “Don’t you always?”

“What are you doing here?” I asked instead of answering his question.

“I said that we needed to talk.” He shrugged. “It’s later.”

“Right. I guess we should talk.”

I closed my laptop and shut down my desktop as well. Then I stacked the paperwork in front of me into an easy pile for me to work from tomorrow, keeping out the few things I needed Aspen to do. I’d add them to her desk on the way out.

All the while, I avoided Sam’s steady gaze. I didn’t know what he was thinking. Or what he felt about this situation. Technically, I was his boss. Or his boss’s boss. We had history. And as much as I didn’t want to think of him, he was my ex-boyfriend, and we were now working together full-time. I was a professional. I’d told English that I could handle this. But now, sitting in my office with the charged chemistry blistering between us, I was having all sorts of doubts again.

Finally, when the silence was too much to bear, I looked up into those big brown eyes. “When did you move to the city?”

“About a year ago.”

My stomach dropped. A f*****g year ago. He’d been here that long…and I’d never known. God, what did I even expect? That he’d rush here to see me? I was delusional. I didn’t even know if I would have wanted that anyway.

“Wow,” I muttered.

“The firm I was working for back in North Carolina transferred me up here,” he continued as if that news wasn’t a gut punch to me. “And then the company folded.”

“That sucks.”

“Yeah. When I saw the mayor had a legal spot open, I jumped. Which is how I’m here now. But what about you?”

“What about me?” I asked.

“One campaign. One year. And then you were going to go back to the Upper East Side,” he said almost as an accusation. “How the hell did you end up working for the mayor?”

“Well, I got home after…” I swallowed hard. “After us. And my parents were ready to bring me on board, and so…I did. I worked there for about five or six months. I was miserable. So, I decided I would just work part-time for Leslie. Get my campaign fix.” I held my hands out in front of me. “But I loved it too much. I wanted to make a difference and do what I loved. So, I quit with my parents and came on full-time.”

“Bet your parents loved that.”

“Yeah, they still hate it,” I said, finding myself relaxing with the lull of the conversation. It had always been easy to talk to Sam after all. “They try to force their way into my life. God, just this morning, my mother showed up with, like, half of Barneys in my apartment.” I shook my head. “I still have no idea what to do with all that shit.”

He laughed and leaned back in the chair, watching me with warm, attentive eyes. “That sounds right.”

I sighed. “Look Sam, I know that we have history, but…”

He held up his hand. “I get it, Lark. You don’t even have to say anything. This is your life. And I jumped into the middle of it. I don’t want to get in the way.”

“Oh. Okay,” I muttered. “We can just keep it professional.”

“Yes,” he agreed. His eyes slipped from mine to travel down my neck and to the opening of my white blouse and then snapped right back up. “Strictly work relationship.”

I flushed at the attention. At the way he could make me feel both sexy as hell and like the room was burning up in one look.

“Good,” I forced out. “I’m glad we’re…on the same page.”

Sam stood then. He slipped the button through the hole on his suit jacket, shrugging it back into place around his broad shoulders. My eyes memorized those lines. The shape of him. The brake I’d just put in the middle of our relationship. We were just friends. I couldn’t keep staring at him like this. f**k.

He shot me a half-smile as if he could read my mind. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, tomorrow,” I said as he strode to the door. And every other f*****g day after that.

He reached the door and glanced back at me just once. “It’s really good to see you, Lark.”

“You too,” I whispered just as he slipped out the door.

Wanting to be professional felt like the biggest lie I’d ever told.