Page 8 of Treason's Temptation
“We’re looking for a nonprofit to partner with long-term. Something that aligns with our social impact goals and yours checks all the boxes. I think we would make a really good team.”
While Maddox elaborated on all the ways I’d benefit from a partnership, I angled my phone perfectly. The view was discreet enough to see the transfer loading on my burner app. Struggling to control himself, Maddox explored my black blazer dress with his eyes.
“There seems to be a misunderstanding. I’m not looking for a partner.”
He chuckled, admiring my fight. “Just because you’re not looking doesn’t mean we’re not what you need.”
“That’s your perception.”
“Strong and uncompromising. That’s rare,” he said, eyes flicking down to my lips and back. “I’m trying to decide if I should invest or take you to dinner.”
I smirked enough to make him think I’d entertain the idea. “That depends. Can you get me in a room with Abdul Hampton?”
“I’m surprised his name came up,” Maddox admitted, not wanting to talk about another man as if he stood a chance himself. “Abdul is not an easy man to impress. Very selective and private.”
“Exactly why I need to meet with him.”
Maddox studied me as if I were speaking a foreign language. “You’d turnmedown for Abdul?”
“I’m not turning you down. I’m offering you a chance to be useful.”
He laughed again, this time with a touch of disbelief. It was clear Maddox wasn’t used to being handled or toyed with, especially by a woman.
“You really think you can sit at Hampton’s table?” he asked.
“I know I can, and you do too.”
Maddox leaned back, still looking at me like I was a riddle he couldn’t wait to solve.
“I can make a call, but I can’t promise anything.”
“A smart man would introduce us at the Langstons’ gala. All I need is a thirty-minute conversation.” I said, standing to gather my things.
Maddox stood too, one hand gently brushing my lower back because he’d been dying to touch me since I arrived.
“And what about us? Is dinner still on the table?”
“If you get me Abdul, I’ll let you pick the restaurant.”
He grinned, walking me out, with his shoulders pushed back like he’d just negotiated something special. I wasn’t so thrilled, but the money I’d get from the deal was worth it.
Meeting Abdul wasn’t my sole mission for attending the gala. The event would be crawling with rich pockets for me to stick my hand in, like Russell Langston Jr., because his charity of choice was women who weren’t his wife. RJ donated millions tothatcause. Otherwise, he’d be the apple of his parents’ eye, but his younger brother, Jaleb Langston, had that spot sewn up—an Ivy League graduate who married his college sweetheart. He was more disciplined than his brother because there wasn’t an ounce of dirt I found that said otherwise.
I walked into the building, heading straight for the back, where the shelves were stocked with bottles, syringes, and medical supplies.
“Hey, Donovan.”
“Sup, Navie.”
“Got something for me?” I asked, resting my elbows on the counter.
Donovan handed over a folder and a small bottle of pills. I’d only need one, but it was always better to have a backup.Flipping it over, I skimmed the profile sheets before tucking it inside my purse.
“It’s some heavy hitters on this list. You sure you don’t need backup?” Donovan asked.
“I’m good,” I replied, sliding the money across the counter.
“Aight. Be careful.”
