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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“Margery told Josh to sleep with Celeste.”

Winnie breathed in harshly. “She did?”

“Yes, Josh just showed up at my apartment. He confessed it while we were arguing.”

“Could he have been lying?”

I shook my head. “No. Not in that moment. He’d told me in London it was a publicity stunt, but I didn’t believe him.”

“Bollocks.”

“Yeah. I had to know if you were involved. I didn’t want to think…”

She held up a hand. “You don’t have to explain yourself. I would have done the same thing. Margery is a pain in the arse, but I’d never thought she’d hurt one of her own. This is an all-time low.”

“It is. I’m about to a call her next.”

“I wish you were here, so we could do this together.”

“Me too. Wish me luck, Win.”

“You don’t need it. I’m always here for you. Whatever you need.”

I smiled warmly at her and then ended the video chat. Now, the fun part.

I swallowed hard. Thank fuck Winnie hadn’t been involved. But that meant that Margery had gone behind everyone’s back on this. Usually, we made big decisions together. She worked with all of us in tandem. It made us all stronger.

But this was unconscionable.

I dialed Margery’s number. Her face appeared on the screen. She was seated at her desk. Her burgundy hair down and wavy with cunning eyes and pursed dark lips. She was a force in the industry. And she’d plucked me out of oblivion. She saw my worth. She’d given me a chance.

And now, she’d burned that bridge.

“Hello, English. Ready to come home to sunny LA? It’s a balmy eighty-three degrees, and only half of California is on fire today.”

She was so apathetic. As if California forest fires didn’t matter as long as they stayed out of the city.

“Margery,” I said curtly. “And no, I don’t think I’m coming back to LA.”

“Ah, so you’ve made your decision to remain in New York? Are you sure you want to decide that before you endure your first winter? Have you ever lived through snow?”

I ground my teeth. I didn’t want this small talk. I couldn’t handle the bullshit chitchat.

“You told Josh to sleep with Celeste,” I blurted out.

Margery leaned back in her dark office chair. “Did I?”

“Don’t play games with me. Josh is in New York. He just told me that you convinced him to sleep with Celeste to help the movie.”

“And you believe him?”

“He told me from the start that it was a publicity stunt. I just hadn’t realized you were the one to plan the stunt.”

Margery shrugged her shoulders. “Well, cat’s out of the bag. You understand how the business is run, don’t you?”

“I know that you could have talked to me. We could have figured out something else. And instead, you threw me under the bus.”

Margery laughed. She didn’t even look sorry. “I did no such thing. Put blame where blame is due.”

“Oh, I am. Josh will pay handsomely for his mistake. But so will you.”

“I didn’t force him to fuck her, English. It’s not my fault that he did it,” Margery said with her diplomatic smile.

“You put the gun in his hand. You’re still responsible if he shoots someone.”

“In this case, the gun is his dick, and the shot was inside of Celeste Gammon,” she said crudely. “He wanted the movie to boost his career. He said that he’d do anything. We went through suggestions. We both agreed that Celeste was the easiest route. That’s business, love. Nothing more. Nothing less.”

I swallowed bile at her words. At this institution that I was a part of. This was what I was good at. I loved my job. But I couldn’t stomach this.

“I was one of your own. You treated me like a daughter,” I gasped out.

Margery smiled at me fondly. “I think of you like one.”

And it was the tipping point.

Because I would not let one more parental figure treat me like shit.

“I quit.”

Margery’s eyes widened. “English, think about what you’re doing.”

“It’s just business, Margery,” I intoned back at her.

“You’re making a huge mistake.”

“No,” I said evenly. “You made a huge mistake when you unilaterally decided to end my marriage. And then had the audacity to say I was like a daughter to you.”

“What will you do? Where will you go? You can’t work at another PR firm. You signed a non-compete.”

I narrowed my eyes. “No judge in the country would hold that non-compete up in court.”

“Then, I’ll see you in court,” Margery said, her eyes narrowing. “I made you, English. I own you. You’ll find doors aren’t quite so open to you without Poise behind you.”

“No one owns me anymore, Margery,” I bit out and then hung up without letting her get in another word edgewise.

My hands trembled as I stared down at my phone in shock. I’d done it. I’d quit.

Oh fuck, I’d quit.

What the fuck was I going to do now?


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