Struck from the Record (8 page)

Christ
.

He stripped out of his tuxedo and pulled back the covers to lie next to her. The bed was big enough that, if they wanted to, they never had to touch each other. Some nights, it was a blessing. Tonight, it felt like a giant chasm had ripped the bed in two.

Ignoring her obvious dismissal, Clay bridged the distance between them, wrapped a protective arm around her waist, and dragged her body against his. She was stiff as a board beneath his touch.

“Andrea,” he whispered, “come on.”

“I hate this,” she admitted.

“Me, too.”

She shook her head, and he wasn’t sure what she was thinking. Surely, she meant that she hated they were fighting over something ridiculous.
Why change when things are good?

Eventually, her body relaxed into him, and much of her weight pressed back into his chest. It was a reassuring soft embrace, something they’d done for years. And even though he was still upset about Bad Suit, he couldn’t help but feel content as he fell asleep with his girl in his arms.

Chapter 7

YOU

Their relationship was tense the next week before Clay started his new law job. He wouldn’t give up an inch on the Bad Suit fiasco. Andrea seemed even more stolid than ever and refused to talk to him further on any of the topics that had come up on New Year’s. The only good thing that had come of that week was that his ribs were finally healing and had stopped causing him excessive amounts of pain.

Just in time for him to start putting in long hours at the new office.

He’d decided on Cooper & Nielson. His father was right, as much as Clay begrudged him that.

Cooper & Nielson was the best firm in the city, and it was the perfect stepping-stone to getting him the experience he needed to become a judge. That would be another check mark on his to-do list to becoming attorney general.

He frowned as he thought about it while tying the knot of his pink-checkered tie. One more thing to make good old dad finally proud of him.

“Where are you off to this early?” Andrea asked. She appeared out of the walk-in closet in a knee-length blue dress. Her hair was pulled back off her face, and she looked so hot.

They’d never argued for this long before. Normally, whatever was bothering them, they would just get over—or, more accurately…fuck out. But, so far, no such luck. In fact, there’d been no fucking since the limo. Something he definitely needed to change.

“Work, baby.” He walked over and kissed her cheek. “Someone has to pay the bills.”

Her lips upturned. “We both have trust funds. No one needs to pay the bills.”

“Well, you’re the only one living off of yours.”

Andrea scoffed at him and ran her hands up the front of his suit. “For one, I earn a decent living, selling art. Something you’ve still yet to grasp. And second,” she cut in before he could laugh at her for considering her hobby a job, “this is a two-thousand-dollar suit.”

“Which is not a big deal since I just made my Supreme Court flirting bonus,” he said with a wink.

Every year, the top law firms across the country would “flirt” with Supreme Court clerks. Each justice had four, and the retired clerks even had one each to do their bidding…all of the real behind-the-scenes work. It was grueling, backbreaking work that Clay had put in during the last two years. But the average bonuses for clerks who entered into a top firm started at $250,000 on top of the salary at the firm, coming in as a third-year associate. His was getting more than that because he’d made them wait…and beg. It wasn’t a bad gig.

“Whatever you want to believe,” she said.

“Are you going to be here when I get back?”

She raised her eyebrows. “What do you take me for? A kept woman? I have business in town.”

Clay’s face darkened. “With whom?”

She patted his cheek. “An art dealer. Don’t wait up.”

“Are you meeting…Asher again?” he asked as she walked toward the door.

She sighed. “No, Clay. You know I haven’t had contact with him.”

And then she left.

He hated to admit that the tension had left his chest with her answer. He wasn’t…jealous. He was still just…just really irritated about the whole thing, and he didn’t want her seeing the douche again.

Clay took his Porsche into the city, grumbling all the while about the traffic. He never could understand why drivers were so horrible here. Back home in Chapel Hill, there wasn’t nearly this much traffic or congestion. He missed being there sometimes. He missed his cabin on the north side of town and his parents’ mansion outside of Durham. He missed Southern hospitality and fashion and cooking. He’d been out of the South for too long, but it would always be home.

He pulled into the parking garage for Cooper & Nielson, sliding the pass that they had given him over the sensor. The bar jerked up, and he entered the subterranean enclosure. For once, he felt like he was with his people. Every car he passed was exceedingly luxurious, polished to perfection, and practically dripping with wealth. It was clear; status and money spoke volumes. His Porsche glided into a vacant spot right between a Mercedes and a Lexus. It was like sinking his dick into expensive pussy.

He took the elevator up to the top floor where he was supposed to meet his new boss Ted Cooper, cofounder of Cooper & Nielson.

“You must be Mr. Maxwell,” Cooper’s secretary said when he walked into the office. She was a redheaded woman in her late forties with a stiff smile. She looked like she didn’t leave the desk often.

“That’s right.”

She typed something on the computer keyboard and then wrote something down in small illegible hand on a giant desk calendar. “Good. Mr. Cooper will be finished in just a moment.”

“Excellent.”

She glanced back up at him. “You wouldn’t happen to know Congressman Maxwell?”

Clay sighed. Of course…Brady. “Yes, Brady is my brother,” he said immediately.

She furrowed her brow. “Oh, I meant Senator Maxwell. I met him when he was still in the House of Representatives. Can’t get a handle on him being a senator.”

His father had been a senator for nearly two decades. At least this wasn’t about Brady. “Yes, that’s my father.”

“Great man,” she said with a genuine smile.

“Clay Maxwell,” a voice called from the doorway of an office.

“Mr. Cooper.” Clay walked forward and shook hands with the wizened old white dude who was a legend in D.C. law.

“Excellent to have you on board, son.”

“I’m honored to be here, sir.”

Clay was thankful that he’d gone through all of his introductory materials for the job earlier in the week. He had already been prepped, and he was ready to go. All he needed was to get set up in his own office and be handed cases. He knew what to do from there.

“I just wanted to say, welcome aboard, and introduce you to your colleagues who will be around to answer any questions. You’ll, of course, have your own team in place, but there’s always a learning curve.” Ted patted Clay’s back. “I’m sure it’ll be less with someone from your background.”

Clay smiled graciously. He hadn’t put those two years into clerking for nothing.

Ted directed him back to the elevator, and they took it down two floors. He walked with Clay down the hallway, making polite conversation. Clay was surprised that he was having this chat with the top dog at a mega firm. That signing bonus must have really meant something. And, to think, all of this was just one big stepping-stone to the real prize.

“Here we are,” Ted said.

It was a nice open room with offices on the perimeter and space for secretaries, paralegals, and the rest of the staff in the center.

“Let’s go find Miss De Rosa. She will be your key point of contact.”

They stopped in front of an office space with a heavy curtain covering the window that looked into the office. Seeing Mr. Cooper, the secretary buzzed for the attorney inside.

A few seconds later, the door popped open and a girl stepped out.

“You!” the girl cried.

Clay’s eyebrows rose.
Well, fuck.

“Hey, Gigi,” he said casually, as if they were old friends rather than mild acquaintances before he’d broken her boyfriend’s nose in a bar fight.

“What are
you
doing here?”

“Didn’t you hear? I’m the new attorney.”

“Wait…
you’re
the Supreme Court clerk?” she asked, her big brown eyes wide.

It was like she had forgotten that he’d said he was the best lawyer in the city.

He just smirked in response.

“Well, I’m glad that you two seem to know each other,” Ted butted in. “Miss De Rosa, please help Mr. Maxwell with whatever he needs.”

She gritted her teeth and nodded. “Of course, sir.”

He wondered exactly what “whatever he needs” meant. She still had some pretty killer lips on her that he wouldn’t mind exploring. But, damn, she still had on a fucking pantsuit. At least it all fit together now. She wasn’t just an attorney; she was a big attorney at Cooper & Neilson. The handshake, large quantities of vodka, and unfortunately, the pantsuit all made sense.

“Great. Well then, I’ll leave you in her capable hands.” Ted nodded and then left them alone.

At that comment, Clay couldn’t help but arch an eyebrow at her.

She groaned and pointed at the door. “My office. Now.”

He swaggered inside without complaint, and she slammed the door behind him. The office was large with towering bookshelves across one wall, packed to bursting with legal books, most of which he recognized. She had a formidable desk facing a pair of leather chairs. A large window opened up to the street beyond their building. It wasn’t a great view or anything, but it had its own industrial appeal.

“Sit,” she snapped.

He folded into a seat in front of her desk, placed one foot over his knee, and bridged his fingers in front of his chest. “So, Miss De Rosa,” he said flirtatiously.

“Don’t speak,” she snapped.

“You like them silent. That’s fine with me.”

She glared at him, openly glared, like she thought he was a maggot.

“Look, that playboy charm might work on other women of lesser caliber than me,” she said confidently, “but it will
not
work on me. This is a strictly professional working relationship. Clear?”

“Sure,” he agreed easily.

“Good.” She was still fiery and looked pissed that he was here. “I hate that I even have to do this, but I was told that you were supposed to shadow me for the next couple of weeks.”

There it was.

“What?” he demanded. “Shadow you?”

She shrugged. “If you’re the best attorney in the city, you probably don’t need that, do you?” she asked, spitting his words back at him.

“Of course I don’t need that,” he growled low.

“Fabulous. I’ll let Mr. Cooper know that you’re set to take on your own cases without my help.” She jotted something down on a piece of paper and then looked back up at him. “Unfortunately, I do have to work with you for the rest of the day. I’d just prefer if we pretended like this was our first interaction.”

“Sure thing,” he said easily.

“And interact as infrequently as possible after today,” she added.

“So, you’ll forget that you flirted with me, and I’ll forget that I punched Small Dick in the face.”

Gigi sputtered. “What did you just say?”

“The lecherous boyfriend,” he reminded her.

She snapped her eyes closed and pressed her hand to her forehead. He thought she’d smiled for a second, but it was gone when she looked at him again.

“It’d be in your best interest not to mention that nickname for my boyfriend or my boyfriend’s name at all. Now, can we get to work?”

She was definitely way hotter when she was ordering him around. He liked that. Even though she acted like she hated him, at least this was an easy flirtation. He didn’t have to think about the consequences of his actions and worry about anything like he did with Andrea at home. Like why her silence frustrated him, why the thought of her with Bad Suit infuriated him, and why he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about her—

“Well?” Gigi said.

He pulled himself out of his thoughts and came back to the present. “Let’s get to work.”

A few hours later, Clay was tired and hungry. He’d had a nice break from his clerking duties. They were extremely taxing, mentally and physically, and it turned out that, even with the fat paycheck, this wasn’t going to be any different. In fact, he was going to have to work just as hard to prove that he was worth the paycheck they were giving him.

He was hunched over Gigi’s desk, working through a long legal document, when the door opened behind him. Gigi’s head popped up from where she was buried under a pile of books.

“Hey, Gi.”

“Marcus,” she said. Her voice had a hint of panic.

Ah. Small Dick.

She glanced down at the large-faced watch on her wrist. “Is it…is it lunch already?”

“Yeah. I was thinking we could try that Indian place again,” Marcus said.

Clay could feel him coming nearer to the desk. He looked up at Gigi, and she shook her head ever so slightly. So, the boyfriend didn’t know that he was here. That wouldn’t be a good thing for him to find out now, as it would end up blowing up in the middle of her office.
Awesome.

“Is this your new intern, Gi?” Marcus asked.

“He’s, uh…”

“Not an intern,” Clay said.

He straightened from where he’d been hunched over and turned to face Marcus. He registered Clay’s face immediately, and he went from shock to anger in a split second.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he cried. “Gigi, how the fuck did you think it would be okay to see him again?”

“He’s a new lawyer here, Marcus. I had no choice. Cooper left him with me,” she said in a rush.

“Likely fucking story. Had you been seeing each other before he broke my fucking nose?” Marcus demanded.

“No! We’d never met before that night. This is just a coincidence.” She came around the desk with her palms out, as if to calm him down.

“I don’t believe in coincidences.” His eyes shot between Gigi and Clay. “That’s it. I’ve had enough. I can’t do this anymore.”