Page 9 of Treason's Temptation
“Always.”
“I spoke to Sloane the other day. She asked about you.”
Donovan mentioning my mother didn’t create a warm, fuzzy feeling with beautiful memories attached—only rage and disappointment. He was a friend of hers who eventually became a friend of mine. Of course, Donovan spoke to her, but it didn’t mean I had to.
“I’ll be in touch. Thanks again,” I smiled, disregarding his comment.
My feet hit the pavement, and the savory scent of food curled through the air. Reminding me that I hadn’t eaten, my stomach decided we were stopping. The diner wasn’t fancy, but the hostess was friendly and recommended the burger with their special sauce. Buying what she was selling, I picked a booth in the back, away from the hustle of customers.
The service was efficient, quickly serving my meal. I twirled a fry between my fingers while scanning the lines of wealthy names with something to lose.
“Damn, you look too good to be sitting here alone,” A male voice cut in.
Men thought they were God’s gift to women, and sitting here alone was a cry for help. To some, he might’ve been. Tall, broad-shouldered, wearing an oversized chain that screamedLook at me. He was fine and likely got his way more often than not, leaning against my table like he belonged there.
“I like being alone,” I said flatly.
“You haven’t had the company of a nigga like me.” He laughed, telling me everything I needed to know. “C’mon, Babygirl. Let me buy you a drink.”
“I can buy my own drinks. Company andmenare overrated.”
He chuckled, carrying an irritated edge now. “Damn, that’s how you do a man trynna’ be nice?”
I exhaled, willing myself to ignore him, but he didn’t move. If anything, he settled in more, like he was waiting for me to change my mind.
“What will it take to put a smile on that pretty face?”
My finger curled to draw him in closer. Most didn’t know how slow the human brain was, making humans predictable. He was so busy imagining my lips doing ungodly things, he didn’t feel my hand taking his wallet.
“If it’s meant to be, you’ll see me again. Then we can discuss that, but I’d like to get back to work for now.”
His ego was bruised, but he tried to save face.
“I’ll definitely be seeing you around, Babygirl.”
Tossing cash from his wallet on the table, I slid out of the booth. He backed up enough to take in the full view as I left. Finally home in the sanctity of my apartment, I showered and grabbed my laptop to finish scouting. I still had money from my last job, but I couldn’t risk it when Rayven’s future depended on me.
Then I reached the name Treason Westbrook. The internet had a lot to say about the young political rising star. Two-time National Debate Champion. High school valedictorian. He also co-founded a tech-based PAC aimed at bridging the digital divide in Black communities and featured inForbes 30 Under 30.
Treason had to be bringing in big money with a resume like that. Not to mention, he was the protégé of Jaleb Langston. I glanced at the time and quickly opened another tab. If thesedamn tickets sold out, I’d die, and none of my research would matter. My fingers paused, hovering over the mouse pad, when the page refreshed.
Sold out. Goddamn it.
I clicked again, praying it was a glitch. The exhibit was on display for a limited time, paying homage to African American legends. I didn’t know where my love of history came from, but I tried again and met the same message. Slamming my laptop closed, a knot tightened in my stomach. Then, I grabbed the remote and turned onShadows and Motivesto lessen the blow.
Chapter 3
Ward laughed at the press waiting outside the car to throw questions at me like I was on home plate at the World Series. Climbing out, I bypassed the reporters lining the red carpet, and I paused at the ballroom entrance. Coming from a single-parent home in a low-income area, I wasn’t supposed to be here. I’m sure they had my prison cell carved out and ready, but I became their worst fuckin’ nightmare instead.
Yassah looped her arm into mine, thrusting us forward while nosy guests whispered. Thandie was across the room, shooting sparks at me while pretending to listen to tech-billionaire Garrison Barnes.
“You know how to make a statement, don’t you?” she said, admiring my dark blue custom suit.
“You do too. Looking good as always,” I replied, taking in the gold, lace dress that turned heads as we walked across the room.
“Thank God I know better. It almost looks like we coordinated this look.”
“What do you know,Princess?”
