“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.