“You’re the number one lawyer in all the country. Top of your class at Yale, clerked for the Supreme Court, federal judge. Then, when the time is right and Brady has become president, he’ll appoint you as attorney general.” His father shrugged. “It worked for the Kennedys.”

He and Matthew laughed at whatever joke he’d just made, but Clay didn’t find it funny. He didn’t find it funny at all.

Clay slouched back into his chair and turned away from the rest of the conversation. He didn’t need to hear any more to know what his father thought about him. Apparently, his second son wasn’t good enough.

A short while later, Brady and Chris got permission to ride their bikes to a friend’s house as long as they would be home by midnight. Chris grumbled, but Brady agreed easily. He didn’t break rules, and Clay was sure that he would be back at precisely midnight.

“Hey, can I go with you?” Clay asked hopefully.

Chris looked uncomfortable.

Brady frowned. “Sorry. It’s a high school party. You wouldn’t fit in.” He sure didn’t sound sorry.

He didn’t want Clay to go with him. It was so obvious.

“Yeah. Sure. Of course. I’ll just sit here by myself and die from boredom,” Clay said dramatically. “Have a good time.”

“It’s not like that, Clay,” Brady said. “It’s just that no one your age will be there.”

“Whatever. I’m going to the beach.”

“Don’t be gone long,” his mother said, having come downstairs after laying Savannah down.

His father had disappeared right after her to tuck his youngest in.

“Yeah, yeah. I got it.”

He trudged down the steps and through the sand. Fury was building in his gut. All he wanted to do was pummel something into oblivion. He’d gotten into a few fights in school because he couldn’t control his ever-present temper. But he was getting better at it.

He ground his teeth together, balling his hands into fists at his sides and kicking at the sand. He was concentrating so hard on trying not to be angry that he didn’t even see the figure sitting on the beach a few blocks away until he almost toppled over on top of her.

“Oh, hey,” he said.

Andrea Billings scrubbed her face with her hands and then looked up at him. Her cheeks were splotchy, and her eyes were puffy, like she had been crying. “Hey, Clay. Sorry”—she hiccuped—“I’m a disaster.”

He stood there uncomfortably for a minute. “Are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?”

She shrugged. “Just my parents arguing again. Doesn’t matter. What about you? Why are you out here by yourself?”

He plopped down in the sand next to her. “Had to get away.”

“Your brother bothering you again?”

“Yeah.”

He had only known her a couple of days, and already, she just seemed to get it.

“My dad said something that just—ugh! It’s so typical Brady, the perfect-son bullshit.”

She laughed. “What’s the fun in being perfect anyway?”

“Right?” he yelled.

“What did your dad say?”

“That he knew Brady was going to be the president one day. When I asked him what I would be, you know what he said?”

She shook her head.

“The attorney general. Like I want to be some stupid lawyer appointed by my brother. I’d rather be president myself.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to be president! Can you imagine how much work it all is? My dad said the president never sleeps.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he said, momentarily relieved.

“Though I guess there are perks,” she said, giggling. “The president did get a blow job in his office.”

Clay’s eyes lit up. “That is a perk I could get on board with.”

And then, without thinking about it, he leaned forward and kissed her. It was soft and unexpected. He didn’t even know why he had done it. It just felt right. It felt like their moment.

When he pulled back, they both looked away, a little embarrassed at his brazenness. She stayed sitting there, staring out at the ocean, for a little while longer before saying anything else.

“Just so you know, I don’t think you have to be the president or the attorney general or anything. I just think you have to be you, and that will be enough,” Andrea said.

He smiled at her words. It was the first time anyone had said something like that to him. If only it were true.

He would die before remaining under Brady’s shadow for the rest of his life. Maybe one day, he would outshine the golden boy.

Chapter 1

BOW TIES

“So, you really work for the Supreme Court?” the girl asked in disbelief.

Clay popped open the door to the cab they’d taken over to the building and tried to suppress a sigh of frustration. He fucking hated when people questioned him about his job. Yes, he knew he was one of the youngest clerks in history. He’d worked his ass off to get there, and he was damn proud of it. But still, it was better to have them question him than when they recognized his name.

Luckily, this girl hadn’t. She stepped out of the cab and revealed the enormous rack he’d been staring at all night, and he remembered why he’d let her question him. It was going to be fun to have her look at him in disbelief when they actually walked inside, and then he’d fuck her against all those heavy law books on his bookshelf.

He figured fucking her in his office was a fitting going-away present since his term as a clerk was coming to a close.

“I really do,” he told her.

She took his hand, and they walked up the steps and inside the building. It was the middle of the night a week before Christmas, and no one else was here. Even the annoying diligent douche who worked for the justice down the hall wasn’t in the building.

“This is so cool,” the girl said.

She seemed jittery with excitement. He doubted many people could actually boast that they’d had sex in an office at the Supreme Court. This was what dreams were made of.

He cracked a smile at his own thoughts.

They reached his office at the end of the hall, and he pulled his keys out of his pocket. Jiggling the key into the handle, he turned the knob and yanked the door open for her. She stepped inside to his personal hell for the last two years.