Something Just Like This

by Jennifer Probst

  She blinked rapidly, and he watched her process the idea. “I don’t know.”

  “It’s a getaway—completely private. Ethan has bodyguards at the place, and with my team on-site, we’ll be out of the public eye. You can ride horses, hike, be in the great outdoors without the smog and smoke and pavement.” He smiled. “And you’ll get to hang out with Chloe and Mia. Meet Mia’s sisters—Ophelia and Harper. See the famous racehorse, Phoenix.”

  “You’re really selling this place, aren’t you?”

  He grinned. “Guess I am. Will you think about it? I think Chloe needs some extra female support after the breakup with Owen. It would mean everything to her if you’d go.”

  A sigh escaped her lips. “It does sound beautiful, and I’d do anything for Chloe. I’ll think about it.”

  “Good.”

  They smiled at each other, then pulled up to the Prince George Hotel. The Friends of Firefighters Fall Gala was a well-publicized event and supported the local Breaking Ground nonprofit, which helped give affordable housing to New Yorkers. Since homelessness was a big issue for him, he supported the organization as much as possible, and combined with honoring the city’s brave firefighters, it was a win/win.

  They made their way inside. He loved the Neo-Renaissance features of the renovated hotel. It reminded him of age-old glamour. The ballroom was exquisite. The fat columns of scrolled gold, gleaming wooden floors, and dazzling painted tray ceiling made one feel as if they’d stepped back into aristocratic history. He stopped to talk to the fire chief, and the men he’d come to know and respect, those who woke up every morning with the heavy images of 9/11 in their brains and hearts, yet still showed up to give their lives to save another’s. Jonathan’s relationship with the fire stations and crew was important to him, and he’d fought many times to get them more funding and support, even when he was up against the budget and endless other causes.

  He worked the room with Alyssa by his side. He admired the way she handled the crowds, a subtle, stable presence, ready to infuse humor or bring a fresh take to an issue. She was more comfortable in the background, and there was always respect in his role as mayor, but when their gazes met, he knew they were on equal ground. She was secure in herself and strong in her identity, and that was important. God knew he’d been known to intimidate and dominate women with his personality. He never wanted to worry that his partner would be in his shadow.

  Alyssa was perfect for him in all ways.

  He only hoped she felt the same way about him.

  They eased away from the latest crowd and shared a glance. It was tradition for them to spend the first half-hour getting settled with the crowds, then bolt for a cocktail and a small bite to sustain themselves for the next few hours. “Chardonnay?” he asked.

  “Yes, and if you see those little—”

  “Crab cakes? I’ll grab some and get cheese and crackers.”

  “Perfect, I’ll hit up the library association members standing by that column and remind them of your support.”

  “I’ll tackle Ted, who’s at the bar with his cronies. Meet you in the back-right corner for the exchange in fifteen.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Get real. Thirty minutes minimum. Ted’s a talker.”

  “And I’m a professional.” He quirked a brow. “Care to bet? I’ll be there in fifteen, and if I’m not, you get to ask for a favor.”

  “You didn’t say you’d grant it. Only that I get to ask.”

  Damn, he was nuts about her. “You should have been a lawyer. Okay, I’ll grant any favor you wish, if it’s possible. If I win, you reciprocate and grant me a boon.”

  Interest sparked in her brown eyes. She pushed her glasses back up her nose. “Hmm, that’s too good to resist. Done.”

  “If you get there and I’m talking with Sam Walterson, please—”

  “I’ll cite an emergency and get you out of there. I’m a professional, too, Mr. Mayor.” This time, the tone in her voice when she called him by his official title was in fun and took on an intimacy he wanted more of. He couldn’t resist teasing her back a tiny bit.

  “Thanks. And don’t forget, Alyssa.” He leaned over and growled near her ear. “If I’m on time, be ready for what I’m going to ask for.”

  Then, with a grin, he headed to the bar.

  The clock was ticking.

  * * * *

  He was on time.

  She came up behind him, watching him chat casually with two ladies who seemed to gush over every word he uttered. He sipped a scotch with ice, and a plate of appetizers sat on the high table to his left.

  He turned to look at her, and that tingle between her thighs bolted to a lightning strike. Thank God her bra was industrial strength because her nipples were hard knots under the padding. How did a man exude such graceful strength and sensual energy, just by zeroing in with those piercing blue eyes? His entire body vibrated with a leashed power she craved to let loose. The kiss was proof that he’d dominate her in the bedroom—body and soul. She also knew if they kissed again, she’d never be able to stop.

  “Alyssa.” He caressed her name, his smile warm as if only for her. “Thank goodness. I apologize, ladies, but I need a few minutes alone with my able assistant.”

  The pair smiled at her and happily drifted off. He handed her the chardonnay, his gaze holding hers. “I won.”

  She waited, taking a sip as the chattering crowd seemed to drop away for a few precious moments. “How?”

  His lower lip tugged. “Does it matter? Will you grant my favor?”

  “Depends on what it is,” she retorted, enjoying their banter. She nibbled on her crab cake. “I won’t do anything illegal.”

  He looked delighted by her answer. “Even if I promised you clemency?”

  “You can’t, you don’t have that type of power.”

  “I will when I’m governor.”

  “Then if it’s an illegal activity, you can wait to collect until after you win the election.”

  He laughed out loud. Lord, he was sexy when he did that. The creases around his eyes deepened, and his white teeth flashed, and she wished she could make him laugh all day long, just for her pleasure. Instead, she ate her cheese and crackers, knowing their time alone was about to end. The music was in full swing, an array of gentle pop and slow songs, and the dance floor was full of couples taking advantage of the gorgeous, romantic atmosphere before the official speeches and awards were given out.

  His voice softened, and he lowered his head toward her. “I think you already know what I want to ask, Alyssa.”

  She stilled, took another sip of her wine, then slammed him back with her gaze. “I’m not ready to answer yet.”

  He gave a tight nod. She watched him struggle for his next words, seeming to sift through some to pick the perfect ones for their rapidly decreasing time limit. “It’s your favorite song.”

  She blinked. “What?”

  His head jerked toward the dance floor. “The Chainsmokers. That’s the concert you went to recently, right?”

  He remembered. She’d gone with a few women from work who’d scored tickets, but in the darkened auditorium, with the creative and emotional lyrics ringing in her ears, she’d been alone with her heart and soul open, the music taking her somewhere else. “Yes.”

  “What’s this called?”

  The music took her back to the time they’d played this. And how she’d thought of him. “Something Just Like This. But they collaborated on this song with Coldplay.”

  “One of my favorite bands. They seem to make an incredible team.” He slowly held out his hand. “Dance with me.”

  She tried to speak, but no words came out. Her heart pounded ridiculously fast. “No, Jonathan, we can’t. People may talk.”

  A gentle smile curved his mouth. “Just one dance, Alyssa. And then we’ll get back to safety and dazzle the crowds and the press and pretend we’re not dying to touch each other. We’ll lie and say this is just about work and not emotions I haven’t felt
in over five years. I want to hold you for a little while and pretend you’re mine in front of all these people. Can you do that? As my favor?”

  A shudder wracked her. Alyssa knew she had to say no. It was dangerous to put herself on a public dance floor, vulnerable to the crowd’s stare. Everyone would see how she really felt about the mayor, and it would all blow up. But, unbelievably, her heart won the battle.

  She took his hand and followed him to a small empty space in the center of the floor.

  His arm slipped around her waist, and one hand enclosed hers. They held a respectable distance between their bodies as he began to move, but his blue eyes blistered with pure heat. Her fingers curled into his shoulder, the meaty muscle under his sleek suit jacket clenching under her grip. Her bare legs brushed against his pants. The dress that had seemed like decent armor before melted like newspaper under flame, her body warming and softening with every step they took around the floor. Somehow, she had enough brain matter left to nod at other dancers, making it look as if the dance were a nice gesture from the mayor instead of the sexual inferno rising between them.

  The Chainsmokers sang about not needing a superhero to love, and Jonathan kept an easy smile on his face like the dance meant nothing but a social nicety, but she knew it was so much more when he looked at her. The fierce plea was there. If she said yes, he’d pull her close, bury his face in her hair, and let the world do as it may. They’d be plastered on page six, she’d be hounded by the press, and he’d have endless closed-door meetings with the governor and Mia’s PR team about how badly he’d handled coming out with his assistant.

  For one moment, Alyssa wished she were a different type of woman. One who took risks and was adventurous at heart. But she wasn’t. She was a rule follower, saw too much of the big picture and the statistics of disaster, and refused to take the leap.

  For one moment, she became that woman. She leaned in close, studying Jonathan’s perfect chiseled jaw, strong brow, and fierce eyes. She breathed him in, relished the blistering body heat pulsing through his shirt, practically heard the rapid beat of his heart. His carved lips were pure temptation, and now she knew how good they felt whispering over hers, his tongue plunging into her mouth, his masculine taste better than the sweet taffy she’d obsessed over as a child.

  He whispered her name.

  She stepped back.

  The music stopped.

  There was no time for anything else. People swept in immediately, separating them, chattering about nonsense and politics and fundraising and a bunch of other subjects that meant nothing to her. At least, not now.

  She drifted away, needing space, and headed toward the ladies’ room. It took her a while to get there since she made sure to chat like nothing monumental had occurred while dancing with her boss, and finally reached the cool, darker space of a temporary sanctuary.

  Locking herself in a stall, she calmed down and pulled herself together. Smoothed her dress and tugged down her skirt. When she walked back to the sinks, she looked less ruffled and rummaged in her purse to reapply her gloss.

  Heels tapped on the floor. Her gaze met Whitney’s in the mirror, the woman’s cold green eyes hinting at the unpleasantness about to come. Alyssa held back a groan. Now? She had to deal with this woman when she was at her most vulnerable, trying to pretend she wasn’t half in love with the mayor, the most eligible bachelor of New York?

  Fantabulous.

  Using a word that wasn’t really a word soothed her. She forced herself to pretend they were about to have a normal conversation. “Hello, Whitney. So nice to see you.”

  “You, too, Alyssa. Did you enjoy the dance?”

  She tried not to stiffen. Yep, this was going to be bad. Whitney had been after Jonathan for a while, and his disinterest only made her more rabid to change his mind. Her silver dress sparkled and clung to her curvy body, finished off with a pair of metallic stilettos that probably cost more than Alyssa’s entire wardrobe. Hip cocked out, lips pursed like she’d scented something bad, the woman’s gaze raked over Alyssa in scorching dismissal.

  Good thing it didn’t bother her. She already knew what Whitney saw since she looked at her reflection in the mirror every morning. Honestly, she didn’t care. She wouldn’t want to look like Whitney or be her anyway. The only time she’d stumbled was at the restaurant when the thought of Jonathan preferring someone like her crumbled her heart into tiny pieces.

  “The dance? With Jonathan. Yes, he’s a good dancer,” she said blandly.

  A sparkly laugh escaped the woman’s cherry-red lips. “Oh, you’re good. I think I may have underestimated you, after all. But though Jonathan may enjoy a roll on the desk, please don’t be mistaken about his true intentions. He’s running for governor. A scandal with his secretary would ruin him.”

  She arched a brow. “Assistant. And I agree. Therefore, I’m not sure what you’re trying to say.”

  Surprise skittered across Whitney’s features. Then her green eyes hardened. “You know exactly what I’m saying. Jonathan and I have been dating secretly for a while. I’m not about to stand around while you try to destroy a burgeoning career and relationship that actually means something.” Whitney washed her hands, dried them, and checked her hair in the mirror. “Now, let’s put this unpleasantness behind us, shall we? I’d be happy to offer you another employment opportunity running the Stoker Foundation. They’re looking for a new director, and they always listen to my recommendations.”

  Shock barreled through her. Not that Whitney wasn’t above bribery to keep Jonathan to herself, but that she felt that threatened by Alyssa. Had she seen something in Jonathan’s eyes that tipped her off?

  “That’s a top-rate position,” she said. “I’m impressed.”

  “Good. Women need to stick together, Alyssa, not tear each other down. I’ll arrange a call for an interview on Monday.” She flashed a charming, shark-like smile and nodded as if they’d just completed a business meeting. “I knew you were smart. You’ll do well with the company, and deserve a higher salary than a public servant.”

  A group of women came in, laughing, and Whitney disappeared like a silent serpent.

  Alyssa smiled pleasantly at the women and headed back to the ballroom, her thoughts spinning. Whitney deemed her dangerous enough to offer her an extremely good position to leave City Hall. Had she missed something deeper between Whitney and Jonathan? He had stated a few times that he wasn’t interested, but was Whitney desperate enough to lie?

  Either way, she couldn’t keep playing this dangerous game. She needed to commit to exploring a relationship with Jonathan, or close and lock the door forever. It wasn’t fair to lead him on, especially if he had the opportunity to meet a woman who’d fit into his life and help his run for governor.

  Her throat tightened with emotion, and a hard knot settled in her chest. She didn’t want to lose him, but she didn’t want to risk him losing the governor seat either. Sure, there were worse scandals that broke with officials still being elected. Lord knew Trump had made affairs and mistakes like a television drama with high ratings, and Jonathan was widowed—not married. He was free to date whomever he chose.

  It was her current work role in the #metoo movement that concerned her. He’d open himself up for questions about being inappropriate in the office, and she’d be endlessly grilled about the personal and professional lines they’d agreed on. It might cause doubt, and enough bad press for the opposing candidate to step right through the door, especially since he was married with a solid family behind him.

  Alyssa made sure to keep her distance for the rest of the evening. Eventually, she’d have to deal with Whitney because there was no way she was taking a job that woman offered—no matter how good it was. But if she stayed, she needed to be clear it was strictly business between Jonathan and her from now on. Or take the plunge and see how the pieces fell.

  The hours dragged by, and she caught Jonathan’s puzzled looks when he tried to talk to her, and she deliberately disappeare
d or stepped right into a busy crowd to jump into a new conversation. By the end of the night, it was obvious that she was avoiding him, and even more clear that he was pissed.

  When they got back into the car, they both kept their silence. No need for Tim to bear witness to the feud brewing between them. With each mile closer to her apartment, Alyssa felt her stomach lurch with nausea, but she’d made her decision.

  Tonight, she had to tell him.

  Then she had to live with it.

  Chapter Seven

  He was losing her.

  The silence in the car screamed with tension, and poor Tim had turned on the radio to keep from hearing it. Something had changed after their dance. The connection between them had buzzed so strongly, his confidence had risen to almost inhuman levels at the certainty that she was ready to take a leap with him. The emotions twisted his insides and throbbed beneath the surface, desperate to live in the light. He believed they both deserved a shot at happiness. But when she’d returned later, there had been a distance, and a tension carved out in her feminine features that he couldn’t break through. The way she’d avoided him the rest of the night had sent him into a panic.

  Had someone confronted her?

  Or had the raw truth been too much for her to take?

  He knew he wasn’t an easy man to be with, let alone love. Too many strings bound him to a career in public service that many women weren’t fit for. But Alyssa had evolved from a skilled assistant to his entire support system. How could he let her walk away?

  By the time they pulled up to her apartment, they were both ready to jump out of the car and their skin. When she turned to face him, sadness bruised her eyes behind those signature lenses. “Jonathan? Can I speak with you a moment inside?”

  The formality almost broke him. Unable to speak, he followed her in.

  She dragged in a breath. “I have something important to say.”

  “Alyssa?” His voice broke around her name.

  She closed her eyes halfway as if afraid to hear anymore. “Yes?”