Struck from the Record (2 page)

As such, Clay was mostly ignored the rest of the afternoon as they spent time around the grill and then throughout the rest of the afternoon while they ate the delicious food they’d made and lounged around the deck until the sun disappeared over the horizon.

“Jeff, that’s your last one,” Marilyn prodded her husband, trying to urge Savannah upstairs to go to sleep.

Gina was doing the same to Lucas while she held a passed out baby Alice in her arms.

His father laughed and held the beer out to his wife. “I’ve only had a couple, Marilyn.”

“Don’t get sloppy,” she warned with a glint in her eye.

“Never. I’ll come tuck in Savannah in a minute,” he promised.

When she left, he conspiratorially leaned forward toward his sons. “Find a woman like that, boys. She’ll make you happy forever.”

Brady listened, enraptured by their father’s attention. Clay just thought talking about his mom like that was disgusting.

“Let me tell you something, son,” he said, placing his hand on Brady’s shoulder.

Clay couldn’t help feeling a pang of jealousy.

“Once you’ve found that woman, everything will fall into place. I just know it. Then, one day, you are going to be president of the United States.”

Brady smiled triumphantly. “President?” he asked with longing in his voice.

“You’re on the right path.”

Brady as president?
Clay almost snorted in disbelief.
Yeah, right.
Brady would make a terrible president. All he cared about was himself and how many people he could charm to be his admirers. Clay didn’t wish his brother’s form of coercion on anyone.

“And what am
I
going to be?” Jealous, he couldn’t help but ask.

He hated that his father had just given his egotistical brother even more motivation to act like he was above everyone else, but still he hoped that his father would say the same for him. That Clay could be president. That Clay could achieve any dream he set before himself.

His father turned to him with a thoughtful smile. “Hmm…Clay, you’re going to be the attorney general.”

Clay raised his eyebrows. “What’s an attorney general?”

“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.

He’d spent half a year clerking for a federal court before he was called up to the Supreme Court. Some had said that he only got the position because of his name, the damn Maxwell name. But he didn’t think top of his class at Yale Law had hurt anything.

“Wow,” the girl said.

She walked right over to his bookcase, sending his brain into overdrive. He could just imagine pinning her body back against it. Definitely his plans for tonight. Easy enough.

“Clay, have you really read all of these?” she asked.

Fuck, he didn’t even remember her name. Just that the skimpy green thing she considered a dress matched her eyes, and she had lips that looked like they belonged around his cock.

“You’re asking too many questions,” he said dismissively.

“That so?” She leaned back on the bookshelf facing him. “Is this better? This what you want?”

He arched an eyebrow as she ran her hand down her front in invitation. He didn’t move. He liked the anticipation.

“Or would you rather have me here?” She stepped up to his desk and then laid her body across all the work he had to pick up before he cleared out his things this week.

“I think the bookshelf,” he said, revealing a dimple for her.

“Mmm, me, too.”

She crooked a finger at him, and he was about to oblige when his phone started ringing.

Fuck. Bad timing.

He raised a finger at Green Dress Chick and removed his phone from his pocket. A name flashed on the front of the screen that immediately brought a smile to his lips.

Andrea.

“Seriously?” the girl snapped from his desk.

“Have to take this,” he said.

He turned away from the girl, ignoring her less than flattering comments. “Hello, love. This really isn’t a good time.”

“Is that so?”

“In the middle of something.”

“What’s her name?” Andrea asked. Her voice was high and musical, just like he had always found it throughout the past fifteen years they had known each other.

“Should I remember?” Because he didn’t.

He didn’t even know if he had bothered asking for her name. It hadn’t mattered at the time.

“Your standards are slipping.”

“I’m still with you. Can’t be that low.” Clay smirked.

“I’m out of your league, honey.”

“Always have been,” he agreed easily.

“Why do I put up with you anyway?” Andrea sounded bored, not irritated.

She was never irritated with him. Not really. She didn’t give a shit about what he did. Just like he didn’t care about what she did in her spare time.

Clay had met Andrea on the beach on Hilton Head when he was almost thirteen years old. Since then, they had spent every summer together on that beach, even after her parents had finally split up during her sophomore year of high school. She’d endured years of endless arguments between them. Then, after the divorce, there was limitless pampering from her mom to make up for the fights that had jaded Andrea’s soft heart.

By the time they had gotten together at Yale during their freshman year of college, they were both very different people than they had been that one summer when he was embarrassed from kissing her on the beach.

Romance was wasted on them, so they had entered into the arrangement of a lifetime. They could do whatever they wanted, but at the end of the day, they would be together. Guard their hearts. No feelings would get hurt. They wouldn’t turn out like her parents, and he wouldn’t have anyone in his life to disappoint because of his behavior. It was perfect.

“You don’t put up with me. You enjoy it. It’s all my charm.”

“Oh, right,” she drawled. “That Maxwell charm. It does have a certain appeal.”

“Every appeal,” he said confidently. “So, I assume you called for a reason.”

“I have a game for you,” she said huskily.

“Right now?” he asked.

He glanced back over at the girl who had, seconds ago, been eager for him to fuck her against the bookshelves. Now, she just looked irritated.

“Don’t tell me you’re backing down from a challenge, Maxwell.”

“You know I never do.” He made a decision on the spot.

Andrea was an easy choice. He always chose her over everyone else. Ten years of the perfect arrangement and perfect sex had taught him that coming home to Andrea was better than any one-night stand.

“I’ll call you back in ten.”

“Make it five, or forfeit,” she said before hanging up on him.

“All right. Let’s go,” he said briskly to the girl in his office.

The girl sat up on her elbows and stared up at him in disbelief. “Go where?”

“We’re leaving. I’m sending you home.”

“What?” she nearly shrieked.

“I’m not sleeping with you. Time for us to leave.”

Her hysterics didn’t seem to be working, so she changed tactics and gave him a seductive look. “What about your place?” Her eyes glittered with excitement.

“I don’t think so,” Clay said, bored.

It had been fun when it was a challenge. He liked challenges, but this was too easy. He could pick up any girl at a bar if he wanted to. At least put some fucking effort into it. And if he didn’t get her out of this damn office, he was going to miss his opportunity to put in all his effort.

“Time to leave.”

He yanked the door open without preamble. She pouted but had enough dignity not to say anything else. She begrudgingly followed him out the office, back down the hall, and outside. He had texted a cab service after hanging up with Andrea, and a cab was waiting for them when they made it into the fresh air.

“I can’t fucking believe you’re doing this,” she said.

“Believe it.”

“Was that even your office?”

He smirked. “Obviously.”

“I don’t know who the fuck called that would make you want to spirit me away so quickly.” She looked down at the ground and then back into his eyes. “We could have had a really good time.”