Take Me. Maisey Yates
Jason suddenly broke away from the crowd, his eyes meeting hers, a smile on his lips. And she found it hard to look away. There was something about him. Sheer charisma. He would be an excellent politician, and yet he seemed content to stay a lawyer, devoting most of his time to high-profile cases of women who suffered injustice in the workplace.
He was an idol for someone with her ambition. A man who’d built an empire, and managed to make a difference at the same time.
“You must be Sydney,” he said.
“Yes,” she said, holding out her hand. When he shook it, she felt a vague whisper of disquiet and she wasn’t sure why. “Mr. Treffen, it’s very nice to meet you.”
“You as well. Are you enjoying my party?”
“I am.”
“Sarah’s told me a lot about you,” he said. “She speaks highly of your intelligence.”
“That’s nice of her.”
“Not at all. I suspect it’s just true. I wanted to tell you, if you’re ever looking for a job that might complement the classes you’re taking, I always have things available here for bright young women.”
Flattery warred with a strange, sinking sensation. She wasn’t sure why the sinking sensation. Maybe just because of the way things had been going with Sarah. She should be flattered. Jason Treffen would be a valuable name on her résumé. A letter of recommendation from him would get her places.
“Thank you so much,” she said, “I’m honored. When school starts back up again, I’ll reevaluate my schedule and come see you.”
He patted her arm, his smile paternal, but the feeling his touch left behind...very not. She wasn’t sure what to make of him. “You do that. Please.”
He turned and walked away then, stopping at the next group of people, smiling, greeting everyone by name. He was a force, no question about that. Regardless of her slight, weird and baseless misgivings, people seemed to like him and the value in the connection could not be overstated.
“You look lost in thought. Or are you simply in awe of your surroundings?”
She turned toward the sound of Travis’s voice and caught a hint of his scent—clean skin and fresh aftershave. And she let herself have a moment where his sheer beauty took her breath away. She’d known Travis since he was a boy, but at the age of twenty-two he was very much a man now.
His shoulders and chest were broader, the softness long gone from his face, replaced with a chiseled edge that made him look both beautiful and a little dangerous. His eyes were the same. That light sky-blue that seemed to promise her the world every time he looked at her.
And his lips...well, they were the same, but they were much more distracting than they’d been when they were younger. Of that she was certain. Until recently she’d never been quite so aware of the shape of them. Or that they looked vaguely sinful.
But that could also be because she had been boyfriend-less, and ergo, sexless, since sophomore year, when her one-and-only boyfriend had broken things off with her to move on to more WASP-ish pastures. She’d been too busy studying and generally trying to prove that she absolutely belonged, beyond a shadow of a doubt, to do anything about her love life.
“Just pondering things,” she said.
He snagged two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter and held one out to her, which she took gratefully. “Pondering what things? You’re on break, remember? You aren’t supposed to be thinking about school or studying or your political ambitions.”
“I didn’t get here based on lineage, Travis. I’m here because I work hard. The only thing that’s blue in my family lineage are the collars. The blood is just red.”
He arched a brow. “Don’t ever bleed around these people and they’ll never know.”
“That’s my plan.”
“Do you want a dessert to go with your champagne?”
“Do you have to ask?”
He smiled and shook his head, moving in the direction of the balcony, where the table with the chocolate cake was set up.
She watched him for a moment, sipping on her fizzy drink. He really was very handsome. His tux was custom-fitted to his physique. And yeah, you could tell.
Suddenly a scream shattered the music. “Silent Night” broke into a million pieces as more screams followed the first and people began rushing to the balcony, to the windows.
Sydney froze, watching the commotion, watching as Travis set his cake down and moved closer to the windows before taking two stumbling steps backward and then turning to face her, his skin waxen, his lips pressed into a thin line.
“What happened?” Sydney asked.
“Let’s go,” he said.
“What happened, Travis?”
“Don’t look,” he said. “Please don’t look.” He was trembling as he reached out and grabbed her, his fingers curled around her arm. “Don’t look,” he said again.
She started to panic then, fear rising up in her chest, grabbing her by the throat and shaking her.
“Travis, what?” she asked, knowing she sounded crazy and hysterical now, but not caring.
Jason Treffen was trying to speak over the roar of commotion, but for once, it seemed like he didn’t have control. It seemed that whatever had happened had lessened Jason’s power, if only for a moment. Because no one could pay attention to Jason—not now. They were all glued to the windows. And Travis wouldn’t let her see.
“It’s Sarah,” he said, pulling her from the room. “I don’t want you to see.”
“Sarah?” she asked, picturing her friend as she’d been earlier in the evening when they’d met at her Manhattan apartment to get ready for the evening. Sarah’s dark hair had been swept up into a bun, her gorgeous figure wrapped in a crimson gown. So alive. So beautiful. “I have to help. I have to see—”
“You can’t help,” he said, his voice rough. “You can’t help.”
“Why can’t I help?” she asked.
“She’s dead,” he said, the words seeming to scrape his throat on the way out. “She’s dead, Syd. Come on.”
“No,” she said. “You don’t know that. You don’t know.”
She tugged free of his grasp and ran toward the windows, her heart in her throat, blocking air from entering her lungs. Sydney pushed her way through the crowd to the windows, her whole body shaking now. She could see her own reflection in the glass, and through to the other side, the lights in the buildings across the street. Christmas lights strung over everything. Then she looked through her reflection, down to the street below.
And she saw her.
A slash of red on the pavement. The crimson not contained to her beautiful gown, but pooling out around her, spreading across the New York City sidewalk.
She put her hand over her mouth and froze there.
“Syd,” Travis said, using her nickname again. The name only he was allowed to call her. “Let’s go.”
“I have to help,” she said, her words a sob.
“You can’t,” he said.
“You don’t know that,” she said, shaking her head, knowing full well Sarah was beyond help now.
Travis tugged at her arm again, harder, and she stopped pulling against him, stopped fighting him, and let him lead her to the elevator.
“What happened?” she asked, the moment the elevator doors closed.
“She