By Your Rules (New York City Fixers Book 1)

by Ally Decker

  She laughed when they drifted apart and she saw his lips covered in her lipstick. She reached out to wipe it off with her thumb, and he caught her finger between his teeth.

  God, she wished they were back home.

  “We need to leave this car right now.” Nate’s low voice and intense gaze were pulling her in, and she was really tempted to forget all about the ball. Then she remembered herself. Making an appearance at the party might not help with securing her move to Major Crimes, but her boss had told the entire precinct he expected them all to be there. Claire wasn’t taking any chances.

  She pulled back, quickly fixed her smudged lipstick, and then they were out of the car and walking toward the entrance. She leaned into Nate as they entered the building, and a few photographers turned in their direction.

  “I hate this,” she whispered at the same time as she plastered a smile on her face.

  “You look gorgeous, just don’t glare at anyone.” Nate was obviously fighting off a smile. “Come on.”

  After they moved through the main hall and dropped off their coats, they entered the main ballroom. It was already packed with people, but most of them were talking in small groups, and only about a dozen couples were dancing.

  “Drink first?” Nate glanced at her, tilting his head toward the bar.

  She nodded quickly, tightening her grip on his arm for half a second. “Yes, please.” She suddenly felt weirdly nervous about this evening and didn’t know why. A glass of champagne would hopefully help her relax.

  ***

  An hour later, she and Nate were talking to Lori and her date about the venue, of all things, but at least Claire had finally forgotten about her nerves. The lieutenant and his wife had found them earlier, so she felt like he mentally checked her off the list of attendance, and she could relax now and enjoy her evening.

  She glanced up at Nate when there was a lull in the conversation, and she found him looking at her with a smile.

  “What?” She wanted to run her hand down the lapels of his tuxedo but settled on resting it against his chest. She might not like official and prim outings like this one, but damn, Nate in that outfit was definitely a huge vote in favor of more of them in their future.

  “Care for a dance?” he asked, taking her hand in his and running his thumb over her knuckles.

  Claire looked at the dance floor. There were definitely more couples on it then before, and the slow song the band was playing right now was one Claire liked, even if she couldn’t quite place it.

  “Sure.”

  Of course, it turned out Nate was a great dancer. Of course.

  “Do they teach dance classes at Harvard?” she asked, leaning closer to him as they swayed to the music. “You know, ‘How to Be a Hot-Shot Lawyer 101’ type of stuff.”

  The puff of air tickled her ear when he chuckled with his cheek brushing against the side of her head. “Sure, because we all need to know how to tango before the jury.”

  She laughed. “There’s a bad joke somewhere in there waiting to happen.”

  “Please restrain yourself.” He stepped back and swirled her around before pulling her back in. “I spent a few months in dance class in high school, though.”

  She looked up to catch his gaze and tried to contain her grin. “Do tell.”

  Nate shook his head with a shrug. “It wasn’t my idea. But Sylvia’s Broadway obsession was in full swing already back then, and she wanted to take these dance classes. She already knew she didn’t have a voice to be a singer, so she got it in her head that she was going to be a dancer.” He rolled his eyes, but there was that fond tone in his voice whenever he talked about his younger sister. “It didn’t pan out, as you can guess, but since I was the designated driver, mom thought it would be a great idea for me to learn something, too, since I had to be there anyway.”

  “Did you like it?”

  “The class itself was okay, but I was a sixteen-year-old boy who went to dance classes with his little sister. You can imagine how my football-loving friends reacted to that.”

  She grimaced. She remembered high school all too well. “Uh-oh.”

  “Exactly. They got over it, but soon after that, Sylvia realized she wasn’t going to be a professional dancer, and we were both set free.” Nate swirled her once again. “I haven’t forgotten everything, though.”

  “I can see that.”

  They danced for a few more songs, then took a break to get something to drink. Nate handed her a wine glass and clinked his own against it. Whatever he was going to say, however, got lost in a commotion near the entrance.

  They both turned to see people crowding closer to see whatever that was about. Then two photographers came in, walking backwards and snapping photos, and Claire suddenly had a bad feeling about this.

  No. Please, no.

  But there he was. Her father appeared at the commissioner’s side, flashing his smile and nodding at people around him, as if he was a freaking movie star.

  She tightened her free hand into a fist before she caught herself. It caught her off guard, and it shouldn’t have— It shouldn’t have. She should have known, he should have told her, damn it…

  Then her gaze snapped to Nate’s.

  “Did you know?” she whispered, suddenly feeling cold. She could hear her voice being harsh, and it was a relief no one was paying them any attention, because she felt like she was suddenly on the edge and rapidly losing control.

  “No,” Nate said, frowning. “No, I didn’t.”

  His words registered slowly. He sounded sincere, even a bit hurt, maybe, but it wasn’t a far-fetched conclusion she had jumped to, here. Nate’s company was handling her father’s campaign and sure, Nate wasn’t the lead on it, but—

  “I would’ve told you if I knew,” he went on, sliding a bit to the side and making her turn, too.

  She knew what he was doing. He was shielding her from her father. Thing was, all of a sudden, she wasn’t sure who he was protecting here.

  “How could you not know?” she asked after quickly looking around. Everyone’s attention was still on the commissioner and the mayor, and now that Claire and Nate moved away from the table and leaned against the wall, they had as much privacy as they could get without leaving the room. “Wouldn’t Shawn tell you?”

  Nate glanced down at his glass with a frown before looking at the chaos in the room. “Yes, he would’ve,” he said slowly, and his frown deepened. “Damn it.”

  “What?” She turned her head to see what he was seeing but quickly looked away. She had no interest in watching her father play the star of the night.

  “Shawn would’ve told me if he knew,” Nate repeated, turning to look at her. “Which means he didn’t know.”

  Claire had no idea what to think. On one hand, yeah, it was definitely something she could picture her father doing—ignoring other people and just doing whatever he felt like. On the other, though… he’d hired the fixers to handle his campaign right from the start, so why would he go behind their backs now? And for what, a party?

  She ran a hand through her hair and tried to calm down and think. She hated that the whole thing even rattled her so much. It wasn’t the first time her father blindsided her like this, after all. But she’d felt… she’d felt happy, earlier. Happy and safe from all the bullshit, enjoying her night with Nate and plotting plans for later on.

  And now her perfect night was ruined. Damn it. She just wanted to go home.

  Nate sighed. “Do you want me to call Matt?”

  She was nodding before he even finished the sentence.

  “Okay, just wait here and—”

  Whatever he was going to say next didn’t matter because suddenly the crowd of people opened like a freaking Red Sea before Moses, and she could only stare, frozen in place, as her father came up to her, with the commissioner still glued to his side.

  “Here you are!” Her father grinned at her like he never did in private. “I wasn’t sure if I was going to catch you.”


  I bet you weren’t.

  She could feel the eyes of the crowd on her, and her skin itched as if the looks physically crawled over her like ants. She knew Nate was right next to her, and she wished she could grab him and run, she wished…

  It didn’t really matter now. It never did, not to her father.

  And he wasn’t done yet, oh no.

  “Commissioner,” he said as he turned to the man next to him. “Let me introduce you to one of your best and brightest—my daughter, Claire Dowson.”

  The commissioner thankfully took it in stride. “It’s nice to meet you…”

  “Detective,” she croaked before clearing her throat. “Detective Claire Dowson. It’s an honor to meet you, sir.”

  “She’s the youngest detective in her precinct,” her father continued. The pride in his voice was perfectly well acted, Claire had to give him that. “She wants to move to Major Crimes division now, though. Look out for that appli—”

  “Dad!”

  She could hardly recognize her voice, and she seemed to be having some kind of out-of-body experience because she could swear she was watching this train wreck from the side like a movie clip.

  The terrible thought circled in her head. How did he know?

  “I’m joking, I’m joking.” Her father raised his hands in the gesture of surrender.

  “Let’s move on to our table, shall we?” The commissioner’s face was a mask of politeness, but God only knew what he was thinking right now.

  This was her worst nightmare coming true, and she couldn’t believe it was actually happening. She thought she might have nodded in goodbye as the men walked away. Then everyone else stopped paying her any attention—although she could already hear them whispering. She was sure the story would spread before the night was over.

  “Claire?”

  The soft voice right next to her ear made her jump, and her head almost collided with Nate’s nose when she raised it quickly.

  “I need to get out of here,” she heard herself say, and he nodded. When he tried to put his hand on her back, she moved away before he could touch her.

  No.

  Just no.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Nate had to bite his tongue as he watched Claire’s tense figure fidgeting with the strap of her purse as they waited for Matt outside the hotel. She seemed like she wasn’t even here, lost in her thoughts.

  She definitely wasn’t with him anymore.

  He wondered what the hell happened—What was the mayor thinking, coming here like this? Nate was sure Shawn didn’t know about this, so it had to be the mayor’s own idea—that, or his main adviser, Tally, had put him up to this.

  Damn, the mayor didn’t even have his wife with him. Nate rubbed the base of his nose, swallowing the sigh. It was just a clusterfuck on multiple fronts, but all Nate cared about right now was taking care of Claire.

  If only she would let him.

  The car finally arrived when Nate started considering simply flagging down a taxi. Claire got in without a word and immediately turned away to stare through the window.

  Nate told Matt to drive to Claire’s place and then close the screen separating the backseat from the front.

  “Hey.” He reached to put a hand on her arm but dropped it before he could touch her.

  “I don’t want to talk to you.”

  The words didn’t even register right away. It was her tone—cold and distant—that first hit him.

  “I’m sorry—”

  “Oh, you’re sorry, aren’t you?” She turned to him with shining eyes, and he pulled back. She looked at him like she was disgusted and angry, and didn’t know which one was winning. “What, the little family scene didn’t go as expected?”

  He frowned, not following. “Wait, come again?”

  She snorted without even a hint of honest laughter as she glanced away to stare ahead.

  Then it hit him. “Claire, I didn’t know he was going to be there,” Nate said slowly, willing her to look at him, to see that he was telling the truth. “I had no idea.”

  She curled her hands into fists on her lap, and for a split second, he almost expected her to hit him.

  “I believed you,” she gritted out between her teeth, blinking fast a few times before meeting his gaze again. “I would’ve bought that story, too, damn it, and it pisses me off.”

  “It’s the truth.”

  “No, it isn’t.” She shook her head. “That alone, I could’ve believed, but you overplayed your hand.”

  Nate turned sideways on the seat so he could face her. She seemed to slip further and further away, and he didn’t know how to stop it. “I have no idea what you’re talking about now.”

  “Of course you don’t.”

  He took a deep breath. She was hurting, he got that, but why did she suddenly do a one-eighty on him? “Listen, I know—”

  “Don’t patronize me.” The look she gave him now was definitely moving towards disgust, and that made his stomach tighten painfully.

  He sagged against the seat. He couldn’t believe only half an hour ago they were dancing and laughing about his dance classes from way back.

  “I really don’t know what happened to make you so angry at me,” he admitted quietly.

  Her shoulders dropped, and she hung her head, letting her hair cover her face. For a few short seconds, Nate thought that this was it—that she ran out of steam, and now that she could see things clearly, she would realize she was blowing out at the wrong person.

  “How did he know?” she asked, not lifting her head, and he had to lean closer to hear her over muted sounds of New York outside the car. But before he could say anything, before he could ask her what she meant, she pulled her shoulders back, straightening in her seat, and she turned to him. “You have an excuse for that, too? How the hell did my father know about me applying to Major Crimes, huh?”

  When he was going to think about it later, the only explanation he would come up with on why it took him so long to piece things together was shock. Because for a long moment, he just sat there, staring at her, not computing the words that just came out of her mouth.

  And each passing second was an admission of guilt to her, of course.

  “I haven’t told him,” he finally said, but she just shook her head.

  “Please, just don’t, okay? Just don’t.”

  “You accuse me of lying and then of sharing your secrets with your father—whom, by the way, I haven’t even seen, let alone spoken to, since our joint meeting almost two months ago—and then you expect me to just, what, swallow these accusations as if they’re nothing?”

  He couldn’t believe this. But he could feel anger waking up deep inside him, under the fog of hurt and confusion. He had done nothing to deserve this, and Claire just threw it in his face like… like she half-expected this to happen all along.

  Fuck damn it.

  “I didn’t do this,” he repeated, trying for calm, when she didn’t say anything and turned her head away to stare through the window. “I didn’t know he was going to be there, and I sure as hell didn’t tell him anything about your career plans.” What the hell? he wanted to add, but swallowed these words in his suddenly tight throat.

  Claire continued to ignore him, and the only sign she’d even heard him were her trembling hands in her lap until she curled them up again and pressed against her stomach.

  God, he wished he could pull her close and tell her everything was going to be fine.

  He didn’t. For one, she’d made it clear she didn’t want him to touch her. And for the other, he was hurt and angry himself now, too, and as much as he wanted her close—well. He wanted her to not think the worst of him more.

  The silence in the car was stifling, and he wished that, for once, the streets would just magically clear, and they could get to Claire’s place faster. But when he finally got his wish—when the car stopped right in front of her building, and she reached for the doorknob—Nate wanted to stop her, to pull
her back and make her listen to him. Make her believe him.

  “Claire, wait…” Nate started, hesitating as she’d already opened the door.

  She seemed to pause for half a second—long enough for him to hope—but then she shook her head and left the car, shutting the door loud enough to make him wince.

  Nate sat there, unmoving, way after she disappeared inside her building.

  ***

  He could ignore Shawn’s texts and calls for most of the next morning, but he couldn’t ignore banging on his door. He glanced at the clock as he got out of bed.

  11:40. Well, Shawn waited longer than Nate would have, if the situation was reversed.

  “Did your phone die?” his friend asked instead of a greeting, walking in and looking around. Then he looked at Nate. “What happened to you?”

  Nate shrugged, closing the door. “Long story.”

  “I bet I know at least a part of it.” Shawn sprawled over his armchair without taking his eyes off of Nate. “But I’m all ears.” He lifted his head for a moment, glancing in the direction of the bedroom before looking back at him. “You alone?”

  And Nate would swear that the only thing he did was nod, but suddenly Shawn sat up, putting his legs down.

  “I’m not going to like this story, am I?”

  “Not particularly, no.” Nate sat on his couch, burying himself into the cushions and closing his eyes. “On multiple levels.”

  “Enlighten me, then.”

  “You know he went to the ball, right?” Nate tilted his head in Shawn’s direction and looked at his friend’s worried face.

  “Yeah. Idiot. I’ll chew him out tomorrow.”

  “It was a stupid stunt. I don’t get why he went with it.” Nate shook his head. “There wasn’t even a lot of press there.”

  “I bet it’s Tully’s doing.” Shawn grimaced. “The guy probably doesn’t feel important enough now when his boss consults someone else.”

  “His boss better consult someone else if this is what his main adviser has to offer. Seriously, he went there without his wife, for fuck’s sake. They both probably knew she would warn Claire.”