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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“Bea, this is my sister, Anna,” Taylor said with a dopey smile.

Bea turned around, and she was everything I’d expected. Tall with dark hair and lots of makeup. Her clothes were purposely casual but high quality. Actually, everything about her seemed purposeful. She also looked high and not just drunk, like Taylor.

“Hey, Anna,” Bea said. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Same. It’s nice to put a name with a face.”

“Definitely. I’m so jealous that Tay has family in the city. All of my family is up in Boston.”

“Easier to get there than LA at least.”

She smirked. “True.”

Court appeared then with our drinks. “Sorry it took me a minute. I had to fight my way through a stein-holding contest, which I didn’t realize was a thing.”

“Thanks,” Taylor said, taking her beer. “So, what do you do? Are you like my sister? Do you fix people’s problems?”

He laughed. “Uh, no. She fixes my problems generally. I work at a financial firm.”

“Wall Street?” she asked, wrinkling her nose.

“Something like that.”

“That sounds so boring.”

I took a sip of German beer to keep from laughing.

“It is sometimes,” he agreed. “That is what happens when you go to college to play lacrosse and just get a boring degree while you do it.”

“Lacrosse?” she asked incredulously. “Isn’t that a rich white dude sport?”

I nearly sprayed my beer all over him. “Taylor, how much have you had to drink?”

She laughed and then shrugged. “More than one?”

“Let her interrogate me,” Court said, waving me off. “I don’t mind.”

“You work on Wall Street, and you play lacrosse. Next, you’re going to tell me your grew up on the Upper East Side, and you went to Harvard.” She drew out the word snootily, so it sounded like Hah-vard.

Court looked to me. “How much did you tell her?”

I snorted. “Nothing! You’re just that easy to peg.”

“Wait, really?” Taylor asked, wide-eyed. “That’s hilarious.”

Taylor and Court bantered back and forth for a while until she was pulled back into her group of friends. I had no hope of keeping up with their conversation.

Court just tugged me in closer. “She seems nice.”

“To be honest, this is the nicest, chill-est I’ve ever seen her in my life. Maybe I should have gotten her drunk earlier.”

“Bad influence.”

“Pot, meet kettle.”

“It’s weird, hearing her call you Anna though. I thought you said no one called you that.”

I took another sip of my beer. “I used to say only people who didn’t know me. That included my family. But now, I don’t mind when you call me that.”

“Good, because I intend to call you that later,” he said suggestively, leaning his mouth against the shell of my ear. “When I make you come.”

I squirmed. “I might have to drag you out of here.”

“I’m game. I think I’ve had my fill of Oktoberfest.”

“You’ve convinced me.”

As if I needed any convincing.

“Hey, Taylor, I think we’re going to head back,” I told her.

Taylor frowned as if she had suddenly sobered up at the prospect of us leaving. “What? It’s so early.”

“You stay and have fun. We can meet up again later.”

“Come on. One more drink.”

I shook my head. “I’ll see you later. Text me when you get home safe.”

“Okay, Mom,” she said with a laugh. “Can I actually… talk to you for a minute?”

“Sure,” I said cautiously.

She pulled me away from her friends and Court and over to a table against the water. She looked nervous and uncomfortable. I had a feeling I was not going to like whatever she was about to say.

“Do you think I could borrow some money?”

I raised my eyebrows. “What for?”

She anxiously chewed on her lip. “Does it matter?”

“How much are we talking?”

“Like five hundred bucks?”

I sighed out heavily through my nose. “What happened?”

“Nothing! It’s for a friend.”

“For a friend,” I said hollowly.

I wanted to think there was a logical explanation as to why she was asking me for this amount of money. But in my line of work, I knew why they needed money. I knew who they needed to pay off. And I’d known before I’d gotten this gig. I’d seen transactions go down. I’d done my fair share of stupid shit.

“Yes. Seriously. It isn’t for me.”

“And why can’t your ‘friend’ pay?”

She winced. “Please, Anna. I don’t want her to get in a worse situation. I’m trying to help.”

“Help would be therapy or calling a hotline, a school counselor, a rehab facility,” I bit out.

“So, you won’t help?” she asked bitterly.

“I didn’t say that. I said that if your ‘friend,’ ” I said in quotes, “doesn’t get help, the money is going to do her no good.”

“It’s not for me!” she gasped out.

“Fine. I can give you the money. But that’s it, Taylor. I don’t want to know what drugs you’re taking. I don’t want to know how you got into this mess. I just want you to stop. Trust me when I say that I have been there and done that, and it’s not worth it.”


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