The Consequence of Seduction

“Do you understand?” the attendant repeated.

“Huh?” I blinked, seeing two of him. I’m sure he was a nice man—he had a salt-and-pepper beard and was wearing a beanie. His shirt said “Get High.” I would have killed Max—actually thrown him off that building—to be high or drunk enough not to actually remember what was about to happen.

I trembled and gave him a weak nod. “So, I’m all tied in, all secure? I can jump?”

“You’re good.” He chuckled. “You just walk the plank and . . .” He made a jumping motion with his two fingers. I’m sure he meant it as encouragement, but all I could focus on was the sound effect of splat running through my head.

Reid was the only person I could still see, the only person I wanted to see.

In that moment I realized something.

I was in Vegas.

With friends.

And maybe that was pathetic, but . . . I had friends, albeit crazy ones, but we were all together. And I had Reid.

Reid! My client.

Reid . . . who was so much more than that.

You got this, he mouthed and gave me a thumbs-up.

I gave him a weak nod and then turned back to the attendant. “You promise I’m all secure?”

“You’ve been secure for a while now.” He patted my back. “Now, keep walking and then do your thing. Remember the instructions. Arms out, legs out, no flips or anything wild like that.”

“Ha, I’ll try to restrain myself from flipping.” I swallowed as hot air hit my face. It was getting louder and louder as I made my way slowly out the side of the building. And then I was at the edge, the toes of my Nikes peeking over the ledge.

I’d never done anything crazy in my life.

Ever.

One time I bought a pencil skirt in lime green.

That was my crazy.

Buying Otis special dog food. My brand of crazy.

Three drinks instead of two on a weeknight? Crazy.

Jumping off a building.

Maybe, just maybe I needed more crazy.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Then jumped.

The feeling of falling was almost immediately replaced with an intense amount of hot air as wind whipped around me. I managed to crack open my eyes, and then as my stomach dipped, I opened my mouth.

And screamed.

It wasn’t pretty.

In fact I’m sure that anyone taking a picture would think I was actually trying to swallow my own head.

And then suddenly.

I slowed.

And stopped.

Just above the ground.

“No splat!” I shouted, pumping my legs back and forth.

“You lived!” Milo shouted. Oh, good, they really were alive and it wasn’t a figment of my imagination brought on by the trauma of jumping off a building.

Once I was out of my gear, I waited for Jason, Max, and Reid, who all came tumbling down like it wasn’t a big deal at all. They yelled and pushed one another like guys do when they have too much testosterone rolling around their systems.

Reid stopped in front of me and smirked.

“I did it,” I yelled.

“Yup.” His grin widened.

“Holy shit.” Max stuttered to a stop. “Looks like your hair had more fun than you did!”

I reached up and patted my head.

Naturally, only half my hair was in its ponytail; the rest of it was puffed around my face in a rat’s nest that out of the corner of my eye looked like horns coming from my ears.

“Stop.” Reid grabbed my hands and pulled me into his arms. “It’s cute.”

I huffed. “I look electrocuted.”

“Nah.” He shook his head. “You look . . .” He kissed me softly. “Invigorated.”

“Yeah?” My voice was a bit breathless—then again, I was kissing Reid Emory, the newest heartthrob to hit Hollywood, the man who had a body like Ryan Gosling on his best day.

“I like it.”

I like you, that’s what I wanted to say. Instead I just nodded like a total lovesick sap and then rested my head against his chest.

“See?” Max came up next to us. “Works every time. Emotional bond secured. You’re welcome! Now on to item number two!”

I cringed. “Well, at least we don’t have to go on that scary-looking roller coaster thing.”

Reid winced.

Max chuckled.

While the rest of the crew started marching back into the Stratosphere.

“Crap,” I muttered. “We’re doing all the rides, aren’t we?”

“Every last one.” Reid kissed my head. It was new, this whole kissing my head thing, holding my hand, making sure I was okay. And I hated to think of what would happen when he suddenly wasn’t there anymore to give me encouragement.

Encouragement is one of those things you don’t think you need until you suddenly have it, and then you wonder how you survived your entire life without it.

That’s what Reid was good at. Staying positive, being encouraging. He owned his positive attitude.

And by association it rubbed off.

Because as I walked hand in hand with him and got back into that stupid elevator, all I kept thinking was, I can do this.

Because he made me think I could.

Except . . . this wasn’t a romance novel, no matter how many times Max joked about it.

Eventually, fame would get to Reid like it got to every one of my clients, and he’d be gone and I’d be stuck watching him on Jimmy Fallon while I ate a tub of ice cream.

Because he was different. I wouldn’t be cheering him on while he married some hot model and had ten kids.