Page 41 of Treason's Temptation
“I see I have a lot of work toundo. Wassup with these non-negotiables you hustled me for?”
“You should be happy I took pity on you. Could’ve easily gotten ten if I tried.”
“If the only option was leaving you at the station, you could’ve got me for fifteen,” he flirted, leaning in.
Thankfully, the server returned, so I could hide behind the menu because Treason was good. Returning to a neutral expression, I handed over the menu and placed my order.
“No violence whatsoever, or I’ll burn this whole thing down. Two.”
Then Treason clipped my next sentence before I could start, “You wasted one on that shit. I don’t hit women. Next.”
“Two, hands to yourself unless we’re on the clock. I know that’ll be hard for you, but figure it out.”
“One,” he emphasized, but I took that with a grain of salt for now. Nobody announced themselves as an abuser out the gate, “I’ll try my best, but I’m a physical touch kind of nigga. What else?”
My brain stalled out because, as bad as I advocated for these rules, I hadn’t considered what I wanted or needed to make this work. Treason was studying me, the intensity in his gaze slowed my brain down even more.
“Second, I’m yourgirlfriend, but I don’t belong to you. I won’t be policed like I’m a child. You don’t control where I go and who I’m with.”
“Trust takes time to build.”
“I’m not asking,” I shot back, folding my arms across my chest. His eyes followed, while I grew irate. He claimed he didn’t want the perfect trophy wife, but it felt like that’s exactly what hewas giving me—cookie-cutter responses to let my guard down. “And this isn’t a debate. I don’t need a rebuttal after every point.”
“Freedom is important, but I gotta’ be able to trust you with it,” he said, ignoring my attitude.
“Third, I want to be in control of how I’m portrayed. Your team isn’t exactly blowing me away handling your campaign, so include me in decisions about our relationship.”
“I can do that, but there will be days neither of us is in control. It’s not personal. It’s the job.”
Rolling my eyes, I understood. It didn’t mean I had to like it.
“Oh, and thirty days after you win this election, we’re done. The demands of the job became too much, and we parted as friends before we grew resentful of each other. If you’re nice, I might even throw in a few lunch dates so the paparazzi see us getting along. Your treat, of course.”
“Is that it?” He asked with a raised brow that made me reconsider. I should’ve thought it over while I was locked in my room, but I was still in shock that this was even happening.
“Transparency. That’s the only way this arrangement works. Don’t have me in the dark or give me half-truths so I’m blindsided later.”
“I can meet those demands, but one thing I am dictating is no more scheming.”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re done, and it’s not up for debate,” he said with finality.
“Then I want a cut of every check I bring into the campaign.”
Treason coughed, swallowing his wine before setting the glass on the table.
“Fuck no.”
“You don’t work for free, and I’m not either. I should be compensated for the hell I’m about to endure.”
“What do you call the wardrobe, wining, and dining? Is that not compensation?”
“Not enough. I want my compensation in good ‘ole American dollars.”
“Living. That’s your compensation. Crazy ass girl,” he laughed, shaking his head, but I didn’t fold. I couldn’t when Rayven was depending on me.
“I’m serious, Treason. I have responsibilities, and if I can’t earn money my way, it’s your job to provide, right?”
