Something Just Like This

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Something Just Like This Page 2

by Jennifer Probst


  Damnit. He’d hired her because she knew her shit, came highly recommended, and they’d never want to sleep with each other. His last hire had been a mistake, one who ended up crushing on him and failing at her job. His long-term assistant had finally succumbed to retirement, and he’d been floundering at the loss. The moment Alyssa Block had walked into his office with her cool eyes and clipped speech, he’d known they weren’t each other’s types. He preferred fiery, opinionated, passionate women like his beloved late wife. A partner who challenged him mentally and physically. It was also obvious that Alyssa didn’t give a crap about flirting with him or being physical—she just wanted to do her job the best she could.

  That had been over two years ago, and they’d been inseparable ever since. In a good way.

  He’d learned early on that mixing business with personal relationships meant disaster—any politician who wanted a career knew the rules to follow. History proved itself over and over. Men who couldn’t keep their pants zipped made for crappy leaders. He didn’t get involved in opinions, whether it was right or wrong for his personal life to be scrutinized and judged. Jonathan only dealt with the facts, and if he couldn’t change them or tweak them, acceptance was the best route.

  He never thought it’d be a problem. Until lately.

  Because, lately, he’d been thinking about Alyssa in many more ways than as his assistant. And it was wrecking the entire orderly world that she so competently managed for him.

  “I planned to run for another term. There’s still so much more to do.”

  “This is an opportunity you may not get again. You can do more as governor.”

  He drummed faster. She gave a tiny sigh, then pushed the red stress ball over the polished mahogany. It had been a Christmas present from his daughter—embedded with the term Mayoral Tension Reliever—and he’d been crushing it ever since, like a dog gnawing on a favorite bone. He began squeezing, and the give under his fingers took him down a notch. “Or I may get less done. You know the higher up the ladder, the less you make a difference.”

  “If that’s what you believe. Staying mayor will be an easier route.”

  He snorted, cutting her a glance. “Trying to challenge my ego to get me to run?”

  “We need less ego in politics, Jonathan. Not more.”

  He raised a brow. “Well said.”

  “You were the one who said it.”

  “Damn, I’m good.”

  The slight tug at her bottom lip made him feel as if he’d won American Ninja Warrior. The woman didn’t smile often, but when she did, it was like a gift. And why the hell was he concentrating on that ridiculous thought?

  “It’ll be hell on Earth once we make the announcement. I almost lost my daughter over the mayoral election. I can’t lose myself like that again.”

  Ah, he had regrets. He’d been so focused on being mayor after moving on from his position as district attorney that he’d ignored her needs, chalking it up to teen angst. Instead, she’d been crying for his attention, the loss of her mother still tearing her apart. Jonathan had been able to bury the grief deep enough and soothe it with work. But Chloe had needed to talk, and feel, and do all that girl stuff that was important but that he mostly sucked at. Looking back, he realized what an ass he’d been, and he’d sworn to always put her first from now on.

  He waited for sympathy but, of course, Alyssa only shrugged. “That was then. This is now. Mia’s a crackerjack and will get you through. Bob’s a pro and got you here. Chloe’s in a solid place with her career and no longer as raw. You’ve both grown.” She narrowed her gaze. “Do you want it? Aside from the rush of power being governor will bring? Because, if you don’t, that’s where it will all go wrong.”

  She was right. It was hard chipping past the amazing adrenaline blast of imagining himself as governor of New York State. He squeezed the ball and really looked inward and swore not to flinch. He liked being respected. Loved having big-time contacts and the ability to change things. But did he want this for himself and his career, or did he believe this new course could make the state a better place?

  He thought of Chloe, and his late wife, Catherine, and the people he fought for daily knowing he’d only succeed in a fraction of what he wanted to accomplish. It was a path of bitter disappointment and heartbreaking cynicism. But, God, he wanted a chance to try. To be a better man. To push himself to think of the people’s needs instead of his ability to get a reservation at the hottest restaurants and schmooze with DC royalty.

  No. He wanted more for everyone. And he’d regret it if he didn’t try.

  He opened his mouth to tell her his decision.

  “Good choice,” she said, her fingers tapping on the tablet screen. “I’ll schedule a meeting with Mia and Bob. Chloe said she’d be back in her office at two p.m., so I’ll text her you’ll be calling then. I’ll make a list of contacts you need to reach out to immediately—I assume you’re canceling dinner with Jack at Carmine’s tonight?”

  He winced. “Ah, hell, I forgot. He’s the most boring man I’ve ever met. It’s like a disease.”

  “Cherophobia,” she stated.

  He tilted his head. “What?”

  “The fear of fun. That’s what Jack probably has.”

  He laughed. She was always spouting off strange and interesting facts, her brain an amazing apparatus that fascinated him. Too many women bored him after one dinner conversation. Alyssa had been challenging him regularly, so in a way, he’d been spoiled. “Finally, a true diagnosis I can understand.”

  “I’ll cite a work emergency and order dinner in with the team.” She continued her endless checklist, making notes, shifting events, and taking care of what he needed before he knew he needed it. By the time she rose from the chair, the stress ball was resting still on the desk, and his mind was once again lasered in and settled. He caught a gentle whiff of her perfume—some clean, fresh-cotton scent. Or linen? In the beginning, it had struck him as no-nonsense, barely able to be called a cologne. Now, he took a deep breath and savored the smell. It reminded him of cool, soft sheets on naked skin. Non-flashy but memorable. They spent endless hours together, yet he still hadn’t cracked the essence of her—the core hidden behind the unbreakable shell.

  For a long time, he hadn’t cared. It hadn’t mattered because they were good together. A perfect team who worked like a well-oiled machine.

  Now, he craved more. To know the woman she was when she left the office. Who she loved and trusted. What she really wanted.

  She paused as if sensing his sudden unease from his intimate thoughts. “Are you okay, Mr. Mayor?”

  She wasn’t the type for red lipstick and preferred a rose gloss that gave just a hint of color and sheen. Sweat broke out on his skin as he suddenly imagined his mouth on hers, the gasp he’d swallow as his tongue dove deep, the bite of her nails in his shoulders, the feel of her tight body pressed against his.

  He tore his gaze away and quickly swiveled his chair around, desperate to hide his sudden, alarming interest in his assistant. He needed to get his shit together. The campaign for governor was going to be long and hard, with cramped quarters and countless hours spent together. This was not the time to fall apart over a woman he’d known for two years, and who would quit and run screaming out of his life if she knew he was suddenly imagining her naked.

  He’d fix it. Control it. Rationalize it away. Whatever he needed to do because now he had one goal.

  Win.

  Chapter Two

  Things were getting worse.

  Alyssa poured the wine to well over her usual quarter-glass and curled up on the comfy white lounge chair. She ignored the remote and switched her cell to silent. Even the fresh stack of books beside her, spines ramrod straight, pages crisp and untouched, couldn’t tempt her. Right now, she just wanted to rest in the quiet of her apartment and go over the day’s shocking events.

  He was going to be governor.

  Pride rippled through her, along with a longing that was be
ginning to peek through her solidly built walls. She had no doubt he’d win. Jonathan Lake was the perfect trifecta in the voting world—looks, charisma, and heart. She didn’t respect many politicians and rarely offered her skillset to anyone she didn’t admire. With her ruthless organization skills and the need to remain hidden from the spotlight, she’d worked with high-profile lawyers, government officials, and television producers. But when she’d heard that Lake was desperate for a trained assistant, she’d taken the leap for an interview.

  Alyssa shivered and took a bigger gulp of wine. God, the man was all sexiness and heat—from his smooth, velvety voice to his lean, pantherlike body clothed in power suits. The thick, coal-black hair, chiseled jaw, and piercing blue eyes could hold the attention of any person, whether man or woman. His energy sizzled and practically lit up the room with intensity. But Alyssa had been prepared. She was used to charm and good looks. She’d grown up in the performance world, where egos and physical attributes usually outweighed kindness and the actual desire to help others. She’d never expected to like Jonathan or take the job.

  Wrong on both counts.

  He’d interviewed her with a cool ruthlessness she admired, trying to unearth every foible and weakness to carefully judge if she was good enough to work for him. She’d expected a touch of chauvinism and the easy, flirty manner of most attractive men in power.

  Not him. It was obvious that the man wanted nothing to do with her on that level, and even if he did, she doubted he had the time. He’d offered her the job on the spot, and she’d taken it, sensing it was the right move for both of them.

  That had been just over two years ago. How had she gotten into this mess? When had she begun to fall for the mayor of New York City—her boss?

  A groan escaped her lips. If only she were able to pinpoint when mutual respect had turned. When she suddenly looked at him, exhausted from twelve-hour days, and saw a man she wanted to touch rather than the mayor she wanted to help. She was stringent about keeping her bodily reactions in check, and an expert at masking any type of emotion so he’d never know.

  But she did, and it was humiliating. She was hot for him. Dreamt a million fantasies of office sex on his desk, even the clichéd ones where he pushed everything to the floor and ravaged her right there on the hard, unyielding wood. Why did she have to be so damn unoriginal?

  On cue, her phone vibrated. Of course, it was probably him. He always texted when she was vulnerable. Alone in her big, empty apartment, thinking of him naked.

  She steeled herself and grabbed her cell, then found it was much worse. The man had not only mesmerized her when she’d believed herself invincible to his charm, but he’d also managed to up the stakes.

  He’d gotten her to fall in love with his daughter.

  Alyssa tapped the button. “Hi, Chloe. How are you?”

  “Oh, my God, I heard the news. I cannot believe he’s running for governor. Alyssa, do you think it’s too soon? He said he always wanted at least two terms as mayor, and now he’ll be thrown into another election. I’m worried.”

  “Well, I assume you talked about the options at length with him, but I believe it’s an opportunity he can’t pass up.”

  A sigh came over the phone. “I know. It’s just a lot more pressure and longer hours.”

  Alyssa heard the hesitation in Chloe’s voice. “Are you worried about what happened before?” she asked gently.

  “A little. I mean, I know we’re better now. I’m no longer a college student, pissed off and vandalizing cars for attention,” she joked. “But what if he gets too wrapped up in the voting results again? He was stressed and unhappy, Alyssa. And since my mom, he hasn’t focused on anything but his career. It’s not good for him.”

  Alyssa’s heart squeezed. The past two years, she’d gotten to know Chloe, both from her father’s stories and her own personal experience with the girl. She was a younger, female version of Jonathan with gorgeous black hair, beautiful blue eyes, and an enthusiastic personality and energy that swept through the room like a tidal wave. She’d graduated from SUNY New Paltz with a business degree, then began working with a local organization to advocate for stronger anti-cruelty laws for animals. Her passion for public service was evident in her job and her volunteer work with animal rescue farms in the county. The two of them were like a dynamic duo, ready to rule the world. But with that commitment for change came the tendency to get so wrapped up in the mechanics one lost sight of the true goal.

  Still, she believed what she’d told Jonathan. They were both older and stronger now, and Alyssa knew he’d handle things better this time around. “If your father goes off course, you’ll set him straight. He can’t push you around like before. I won’t let him.”

  Chloe laughed. “If anyone can handle Dad, it’s you. Just make sure you let me know if he needs an intervention. When does the announcement go live?”

  “Next week. If we do a press conference on Tuesday, can you attend? He’d love to have you by his side.”

  “I’ll make it work.”

  “Great, he’ll be happy.” They chatted a bit more about casual topics, then said goodbye. Alyssa finished her wine, savoring the silence, and wondered if she should get a cat. Maybe another presence in her life other than Jonathan and his daughter would help. Cats were independent, right? With her crazy work schedule, she’d never believed it was fair to bring an animal here. But a distraction might be needed, along with an excuse to retreat during those late-night war sessions he planned too much. She was always vulnerable then. Watching him plow his fingers through his mussed hair, his tie and jacket shed, his eyes crinkling with weariness in his need to save the city. How many times had she fought the urge to cross the room and cradle him in her arms? To soothe and comfort and be close?

  It was dangerous for both of them. She had to get herself under control, or she’d be forced to make a heartbreaking decision.

  She’d have to quit and leave forever.

  Alyssa dragged in a breath and placed her lone glass in the sink. The only sound was the hum of the air conditioner. She padded on bare feet toward her bedroom, wondering when the silence had changed from comforting to lonely.

  Definitely dangerous.

  She’d get a cat this week.

  Chapter Three

  City Hall was a massive brick building that was the oldest in the United States, and one of the largest government structures in the world. Besides the mayoral office, it housed the New York Council and thirteen municipal agencies under Jonathan’s direction. The historical significance struck him hard every time he went to work, reminding him of his responsibilities to the people, and the humbling achievement of a dream he’d set long ago with his wife by his side.

  Of course, he’d never imagined he’d be alone once he arrived at City Hall.

  He’d also never envisioned the isolation and loneliness he’d feel amidst the masses of people who consistently surrounded him. From reporters, drivers, bodyguards, and endless staff, there was no such thing as privacy or alone time. When he was working toward becoming mayor, he’d buried his grief in the drive to win and nearly lost the man he’d once been with his wife and daughter. Now he’d learned to become more human, but with that came a touch of vulnerability and a slight resentment of the constant pressure and fishbowl lifestyle he’d once been thrilled to take on.

  Crap, he was getting old.

  He smothered an indulgent sigh as the car pulled up to the curb. It’d been a few weeks since he’d made the announcement, and he’d been running nonstop on the hamster wheel ever since. He gazed out the tinted windows at the rain-slicked pavement. Late fall in the city was a tricky thing. It was different from the beauty of the Hudson Valley a scant two hours away. New Yorkers faced seasonal changes like stoic soldiers going into battle—flicking up the collars on their fashionable coats to brave the wind, and donning designer boots to stomp through puddles with sheer determination, refusing to be late to the next event on their schedule. Between the tempe
ramental weather, endless leaves blocking up the sewers, and the scurry to build up enough supplies to protect the roads during the long winter, Jonathan had always preferred the silent, sticky summers instead. Still, a long walk in Central Park reminded him that crisp air, burnt-orange stately trees, and the golden light that poured from the sky needed to be appreciated before the craze of the holiday season descended. “Thanks, Tim. I heard it was your anniversary. How many years?”

  The older man lit up. “I can’t believe you remembered, sir. Thirty-five, and feels like just yesterday. She wants to renew our vows in Vegas with Elvis at our side.”

  He laughed. “Do it. Nothing like the King for pure romance superpower.” He pressed a card into the man’s hand. “Here’s something for both of you. Go out to a nice dinner.”

  His long-term driver jerked back. “Sir, you didn’t have to. Thank you.”

  “Welcome. See you in a few.”

  He nodded and hurried into the building, ducking his head against the wind. He’d have to double-check on the weather report. Hurricane season still threatened, and he had to be careful about any impending trouble. God knew the state was still in disarray from Sandy, and that had been years ago.

  “Mr. Mayor? May I have a word?”

  He glanced over but didn’t stop walking—every second was accounted for. “Ms. Delaney, to what do I owe the pleasure? Surely you don’t need another colorful quote regarding my stance on school vaccinations or free lunches? I’ve been quite clear.”

  She fell in step beside him. “Crystal, Mr. Mayor. I’m more curious about your new beef with the police commissioner. Sources tell me you’re at odds with his decision to protect a few good cops nearing retirement for some menial sins. Is everyone’s pension at risk, or just Andrew Billings’?”

  Ah, fuck. Diana Delaney was a reporter he’d initially despised, then resented, and, most recently, reluctantly admired. He hated the rag she worked for, but she’d proven to be endlessly stubborn in securing a comment and getting it right. He knew she was in the trenches and fiercely ambitious, so the respect came after she’d proven that she was above lying or tweaking the truth for good copy. He might not agree with her spins, but he believed in freedom of the press and all that came with it. The real problem was her damn sources and how they leaked gossip he wanted to keep a lid on.

 

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