Chapter 10 #3
“I don’t need Tre. I work for him because the attention is so loud that it’s hard for him to see straight. That’s where I come in. I’m Tre’s eyes and ears when he can’t be that for himself.”
Ward ambled to the office, leaving Rylo to do my nails.
I didn’t know how to make small talk unless I was trying to get something out of it.
Thankfully, Rylo carried the conversation, asking a bunch of questions from how long we’d been dating to how we met.
Treason didn’t lie. He was nosey as fuck but a good time.
I laughed more in two hours than I had since meeting Treason Westbrook.
After Rylo finished, I hopped in the shower to prepare for date night. I opted for a natural glam with the form-fitting red dress Chelsea swore would turn heads. I walked into the hallway where Treason sat on the edge of the table.
“About damn,” he looked up at the sound of my heels, lost for words. That was no easy task for a man with the gift of gab like Treason. “Shit, you can go shopping every day if this is where my money is going.”
Ward chuckled, heading for the elevator, “I’ll bring the car around.”
“I got it tonight. Go home.”
“You sure?” Ward asked in a tone that made Treason’s request seem uncommon.
“Yeah, I think I can handle Vie.”
“Don’t be so sure,” I chimed in, my tone light and flirty.
Getting dolled up made me feel like the chaos I was used to. Nostalgia had me looking forward to a night out, even if it was with Treason.
“Don’t hurt ‘em too bad, Navie,” Ward advised.
“I’ll try.”
Treason instructed Ward to have Rylo pull the car around on his way out. He hit the button, and the doors closed, leaving me and the mischievous twinkle in Treason’s eyes.
“You look good as fuck, and you smell good too.”
Treason stepped in close, wrapping me in his arms like he needed my skin to breathe. My chest rose too fast, too shallow, struggling to smile through it. I was back in a place I didn’t want to be. Memories buried deep but never dead. Hands that held too tight and words that came with bruises.
“You aight?” he murmured near my ear.
“Yeah,” I forced a smile, fixing the simple crucifix hanging from his neck, “You look pretty decent yourself.”
Treason’s grip softened in a way that felt like asking for permission to stay. Somehow, his consideration made my heart beat faster because nothing was free. It always came with a price.
“I’m starving. Let’s ride,” he suggested.
Food wasn’t the only thing on Treason’s mind, his tongue swiping his lips. Treason stepped back, drinking me in once more before flashing his palm.
Submissive, Navie. Take it.
I allowed Treason to guide me downstairs to the lobby. Treason wasn’t used to playing second fiddle to anyone, interrupting Rylo, hyping me up. He used my hips to steer me out of the twirling doors where his car sat.
Any excuse for him to touch me.
Treason opened the door, and I slipped inside while he walked around. The car ride was surprisingly quiet. Treason tapped the steering wheel to Stevie Wonder, guiding us to the restaurant where he’d booked for dinner. I appreciated the gesture, considering all the eyes we collected walking inside.
“What’s it going to take for a fresh start?” Treason asked once we were seated and comfortable.
“Our foundation is already fucked,” I replied, picking up the glass of wine the waiter delivered. “But I’ll play my part. It’s not like I have a choice.”
Treason’s hand fell on his chest, doing a poor job of looking distraught, “You’re breaking my heart talking like that.”
“I said I’ll do it. Don’t push.”
“What if that isn’t good enough?”
I shrugged.
“How was your day, Tre?” I asked, softening my tone to change the subject. He lifted his head, narrowing his gaze. “That’s what Fallon and Ward call you. If we’re going to make this believable, I need to call you Tre, too.”
“From Jackass to Tre in a matter of hours. We’re making progress,” he grinned, mischievously rubbing his hands.
“Just tell me about your day.”
“Boring shit, really. Meeting after meeting, then Miss Dot popped up with a list of shit she thinks I can solve overnight,” he rambled, longer than he meant to, before catching himself, “it’s better now sitting across from you.”
“I’m already in. You can cut the sweet talk.”
“I see I have a lot of work to undo . 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 your girlfriend , 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 he was 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?”
He sighed, backed into a corner, “Tell me about these responsibilities you have.”
“It’s personal, so can you just trust me?”
“That’s not a point I would push,” he said firmly, no smile or charm in sight, before continuing, “Two, no strangers or random people in my crib.”
“There is no one else. Just me, so you don’t have to worry about that.”
“Then what is Rayven?” Hearing her name from him felt too much like a threat, and the gloves came off. “That’s the responsibility you don’t want to tell me about, or something else?”
“It’s nothing, I’m not prepared to do behind my sister. Absolutely nothing, including prison,” I said firmly, one brow hiked, the other stubborn in place.
“If I wanted her snatched walking back to Height Hall from her chemistry lab, I would’ve so pipe that flip ass mouth down.”
As the words rolled out, Treason’s facial muscles relaxed, his grin back like it never left, stretching the grey whiskers peppered into his beard.
“Two seconds ago, it was just you, which leads to my next point. No secrets. No lies. I’ve got you, but that has to work both ways. I’ve already seen the worst. You tried to take me out, remember?”
“That’s only the tip of the iceberg.” The pulsing knot in my stomach was hard to deny. I think Treason felt it too, moving the conversation along.
“No public embarrassment, so don’t make me have to show my ass. Most importantly, when I tell you to do something, trust me and listen.”
“Trust is a two-way street, and I believe that directly contradicts my non-negotiables.”
“It’s my job to provide and protect. Shit can get spooky around here quick, and not listening could cost us both.”
Treason’s magnetism was so potent that I believed him. The revelation made me bite my lip while my eyes roamed relentlessly around the room. Then the sincerity in his voice faded, replaced with humor.
“Bend over and pick up my napkin for me. It might create some compensation.”
“Fuck you,” I groaned at his wide smile, watching him pick it up himself.
“Real shit, if you can do those things for me, I’ll find it in my heart and my wallet to cover your responsibilities .”
“Thanks, Tre.”
Treason winked. “I prefer Stink, but you’re welcome.”
“I’m not calling you that.”
“Why? I don’t look like a Stink ?” he asked, subtly striking different poses. Treason was a true chameleon, able to blend in seamlessly, yet you couldn’t take your eyes off him. “It’ll make for a good story in interviews.”
“Better than the story Fallon came up with. I’m not putting myself through this to lose.”
“I thought it was to keep your ass out of jail,” he corrected, “but I’m glad. I’d be sad as fuck making those visits.”
“Oh, please, I’d be forgotten the second the door closed behind me.”
“You’re selling yourself short. People don’t forget Navie Dixon.”
“Anyway,” I rolled my eyes, “You put my business on the hot seat. They won’t forget that. How do I know I won’t pay for it later?”
“Your man took care of it. When I say don’t worry, that means it’s handled.”
Treason and I made it through dinner without using our knives as weapons. He seemed okay when he wasn’t having me framed and moved into his home. After dinner, Treason covered the check, and I enjoyed myself until we left. The sidewalk was filled with people shoving cameras in our faces.
“I got you,” Treason reassured me.
He offered me his hand again, and just like before, I accepted it, trying not to squeeze too hard.
I was used to having eyes on me for a limited time.
Being with Treason meant someone was always watching, fearing they saw the baggage I carried.
Holding my head high, I let Treason guide me to his car, ignoring everyone shouting questions about our relationship.