Struck from the Record

by K. A. Linde

  Brady put his finger in his ear, as if he were trying to hear again. “Absolutely.”

  Clay led him into the dining room where he had a full wet bar set up on an antique cabinet Andrea had insisted they purchase for the room. He poured out some scotch for both of them and handed off one crystal tumbler to Brady. They each took a swig from their glasses.

  Then, Brady extended his hand to Clay.

  For a moment, Clay looked at it in surprise and then shook Brady’s hand.

  “Congratulations,” Brady said honestly. “I’m proud of you.”

  “I…well…thanks.”

  “I know what it means for the both of you to be here right now and how hard it’s been for you the last few months. Wish I could have been around more.”

  “Yeah, well, I doubt I would have come to this conclusion without your help,” Clay admitted.

  It was strange really, to have this heart-to-heart with Brady. The one person he’d always envied…always despised…and always looked up to. His emotions about Brady had always been so unclear. Like looking into lake water to try to find the bottom. Murky and diluted with darkness. Yet things had cleared up between them. Gradually, over time, he had stopped hating Brady, stopped envying him, and just let the past go.

  “Look,” Brady said, scratching the back of his head, “that stuff you said at the wedding during your speech. We haven’t really had a chance to talk since then. You didn’t really mean that you thought you’d been living in my shadow, did you?”

  Clay scoffed and shook his head. “It was hard, being your younger brother, Brady. I meant every word, but I’m cool with it now. You do your thing, trying to take over the world or save it or whatever. I’ll do mine.”

  “From what I hear…you’re doing some good yourself,” Brady said.

  “Where I can,” he said honestly, thinking of the side projects he’d been working on with Gigi.

  “That’s the Maxwell way.”

  “What are you boys getting on about in here?” Liz asked, coming down the stairs again just as the doorbell rang.

  “Nothing, honey,” Brady said.

  Andrea rushed to open it as Liz joined them. Chris walked through the front door, and Brady walked over to greet his best friend.

  “Nothing, honey,” Liz repeated with a roll of her eyes. “Why do I feel like you’re up to something?”

  “Because we usually are,” Clay said with a wink.

  Liz poured herself a drink from one of the bottles on the table and took a sip before eyeing him carefully. “I do have one thing to say about all of this.”

  “And that is?”

  “Maybe you’re not as big of an idiot as I thought you were.”

  He sputtered and laughed. “That right?”

  “I mean, I know you’re an idiot but maybe not as big as before.”

  “Oh, I’m as big as before.”

  She rolled her eyes again. “You know what they say about the ones who brag about it.”

  “Last I checked, you knew firsthand.”

  “You’re a scoundrel,” she said with a laugh.

  He touched her shoulder and stared into her baby-blue eyes. “It would have never worked out with us, love.”

  She rolled her eyes again.

  “I know you’re still beating yourself up about it.”

  “Oh, yeah, totally,” she said sarcastically. “Those three weeks in Bora Bora…really upset.”

  “I’ll always be the one who got away.”

  “Obviously,” she said with a giggle. “Now, tell me everything about how this happened.”

  So, Clay launched into the story with Liz as his house slowly filled up. At some point, Gigi, Ethan, and Cash all showed up and stopped in to say hi. Andrea actually pulled Gigi aside to give her a tour. Gigi looked frightened as shit but went regardless. She was still wary of Andrea after the two times she’d thought she’d fucked things up for them. Clay just hoped Andrea would push Gigi in Chris’s direction now that he had moved to D.C. Andrea’s friend Jamie showed up with her husband, and she and Liz traipsed off to discuss the artwork all over the house. And then a bunch of Clay’s coworkers at Cooper & Neilson and people Andrea knew through her art business all filled the space.

  Andrea looked way more relaxed now that everyone was here than when they’d first started arriving. She was mingling in the living room with a group of her coworkers whom she’d introduced to him, and he left her to it. He wandered into the kitchen and over to Ethan and Cash. He hadn’t had much time to see them lately…not since he hadn’t been boozing it up like before.

  “Hey, guys. Glad you could make it,” Clay said, shaking hands with first Ethan and then Cash.

  Ethan held up his beer. “Wouldn’t have missed it.”

  “Yeah. Never thought we’d see the day when Andrea actually pussy-whipped you quite this bad,” Cash said.

  “He has a point,” Ethan said with a laugh.

  Clay went still. Rage filled him from head to toe. He’d always gotten along with the guys. They’d had their differences, and he’d grown tired of them over the last couple of months, but he couldn’t handle this shit any longer. They’d always talked shit about Andrea before, and he just couldn’t allow that anymore.

  “It was my idea to move in together actually,” Clay said. His tone was dangerous and filled with warning.

  Ethan seemed to get the message, but Cash had always been an idiot.

  “Man, she even has you convinced that you want this shit. That old ball and chain. Hope you’re still fucking some hot pussy on the side.” Cash took a huge swig of his beer.

  It took everything in Clay not to punch Cash in the face. It had been a while since this anger had filled him so completely, but he wasn’t going to brutalize his own friend.

  “Don’t fucking talk like that in my goddamn house,” Clay growled.

  “What the fuck, man?” Cash asked.

  Ethan smacked his arm. “Dude, I think he’s serious.”

  “Yeah, I’m fucking serious.”

  “Aw, come on,” Cash said with a laugh. “I am just joking. Weren’t we just joking, Ethan?”

  “No, you weren’t,” Clay said. “And you’re not going to joke about Andrea anymore. I’m putting my foot down. You have always treated her like shit and talked shit about her, and I will no longer fucking tolerate it. You don’t know the woman that she’s become. You clearly don’t know shit,” he said darkly. “So, fucking think before you talk like that again about my girl. If it’s you or her, I’m choosing her. Every time. So, get fucking used to it.”

  “Hey, I’m sorry,” Ethan said quickly. “I hope you don’t think we’re serious about Andrea. We always knew she was your girl. Just…thought things were back to the way they were.”

  “Well, they aren’t.”

  “Don’t get all uptight about it, Clay,” Cash said quickly. He seemed to have realized that he’d actually gone too far. That was a real feat. “We get it. You’re a one-woman man now. We’ll back off.”

  “Good.”

  Clay took a deep breath and then reached his hand out to his friends. They each shook his hand again, and then the conversation shifted to the law jobs that Ethan and Cash had at the same firm uptown. It was easy to fall back into that conversation with them, but he was glad he’d laid down the law. Things had changed, and they needed to know talking about Andrea that way wouldn’t be tolerated, but he didn’t exactly want to give up his friends. They were idiots, but they were his idiot friends. Every group had at least one.

  The night slipped away, and soon, their party guests were saying good night and congratulations. As people filed back out of the house, Andrea and Clay each hugged and shook hands with them.

  Gigi squeezed him extra tight and said into his ear, “That wasn’t half bad. I’m really glad you’re happy.”

  “Thanks, Gi.” He released her. “So…how about you and Chris?”

  “And, suddenly, I hate you again.”

  He laughed. �
��So, there’s hope.”

  “I’m not going to talk about this with you. He and I are just friends, all right?”

  “‘Just friends,’” Clay repeated, using air quotes. “I bet.”

  She punched him roughly on the arm. “Stay out of it, Maxwell.”

  “Can’t do that, De Rosa.”

  “Good night,” she said firmly before following the other guests out.

  Andrea finally closed the door and leaned back against it with a sigh. She closed her eyes. “That was great.”

  “A lot of fun,” he agreed.

  “No…”

  “No?” he asked, confused.

  She opened her eyes and looked at him, fiercely, possessively. “The way you spoke to Ethan and Cash.”

  “What? You heard that?”

  “Yeah. I kind of accidentally stumbled into you telling them off.”

  “Well, I just…” He scratched the back of his head. He hadn’t known he’d had an audience. “I wanted them to know that you were the most important thing in my life. They couldn’t talk shit about you anymore. That you were it for me.”

  She smiled, like the sun filling the room. “You have no idea how much that means to me. I’ve dreaded their presence all week.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” He closed the distance between them and ran his hands up and down her arms.

  “They’re your friends,” she said simply.

  “They are, but they won’t be if they can’t respect you.”

  “I was just worried. That’s all. I know how they influence you. I know what’s happened with them in the past.” She dragged her lip between her teeth. “I was just…worried.”

  “Well, no more worries any longer,” he told her simply.

  “None at all,” she agreed. “Things are different now.”

  She ran her hands up his shirt and brought his lips down to meet hers. The kiss was sweet and filled with promises of a bright future, hope-filled days ahead, and all of her dreams come true.

  Chapter 28

  ALL ABOUT YOU

  Clay stepped out of the enormous waterfall shower. Steam filled the bathroom so densely that he could barely see the mirror across the room. He reached for a plush white towel and wrapped it around his waist. After a long day at the office, he’d been dying to come home and wash the day off. Plus, Andrea had her art gallery opening this evening, and he wanted to be presentable by the time she got home.

  Just then the door to the bathroom burst open, releasing the steam.

  “Oh!” Andrea squeaked. “Shit.”

  “Hey, I didn’t think you’d be home already.”

  “I didn’t think you’d be…” She trailed off as the steam cleared, and she got a good look at him.

  “Yes?”

  “Whoa,” she breathed. “You look sexy as fuck.”

  He laughed and ran a hand back through his wet hair. “Thanks, babe.”

  “No, seriously.” She entered the bathroom and then ran her nails down his chest and over the washboard abs. “You’re fucking delectable.”

  He reached for her hips and dragged her closer. “In that case, if you’re hungry…”

  She wet her lips. “Always, around you.”

  “Well, I can arrange for you to be well fed.”

  She groaned. “As much as I want you to fuck me right here and now,” she said, taking a tender step backward, “this steam is killing my hair for the opening.”

  Clay laughed and smacked her ass as she hurried out of the bathroom. He changed into the requisite tuxedo for the evening, and Andrea reappeared from their closet in a red dress with tiny straps and a narrow slit down the middle to her navel. She paired it with shimmery gold heels.

  Andrea had arranged a driver for the evening so that they could enjoy themselves without having to worry about getting home. Especially if they wanted to stay after and celebrate what he knew would be an incredible success for her.

  She threaded her fingers together and then apart, back and forth.

  He reached out and took her hand. “You’re going to be wonderful tonight. You don’t have a thing to worry about.”

  “You’re right.” She sounded hollow.

  “Look at me,” he told her.

  She turned her face back toward him.

  He tilted her chin so that she looked up into his eyes, and he smiled. “We’re together, and nothing can stand between us when we’re together. This is just another gallery opening. You blew the other ones out of the water. You have nothing to worry about.”

  “Okay,” she whispered.

  He leaned down and kissed her lips. “Nothing,” he repeated.

  “I’ll just be better when it’s over.”

  “I know. You worry too much. I’m just ready to finally get to see this gallery of yours.”

  A real smile cracked her lips. “I hope it meets your expectations.”

  He smirked. “I have faith that it will exceed them.”

  The driver pulled up in front of her gallery, and Andrea once again let them in through her back office door.

  She took a deep breath with her hand on the door to the studio and looked up at him with eyes full of hope. “Ready?”

  “Very.” He could hardly control his excitement as he waited for her to show him around.

  She pulled the door open, reached inside, and flicked on the lights. Then, she gasped. Standing in the center of the large gallery room was a painting on an easel, covered with a white cloth.

  “What the hell is this?” she asked. “Sorry, Clay. This isn’t…this isn’t how I wanted you to see it. I don’t know who put that there.” She blew out a frustrated breath. “I cannot believe I left people here when I went home to change. When I find out who did this, it’s going to be their head.”

  Clay laughed. “Andrea, it’s fine. It’s just one piece of artwork.”

  “It’s not just one piece of artwork! I’ve been working on the arrangement for weeks. Everything was in order. Now, this.”

  “We can move it. It’s all right,” he reassured her.

  She sighed. “Fine. Let’s figure out where it belongs before I have a fit and start throwing things.”

  Her heels clicked against the hardwood floor as she raced across the room. He was right behind her with his hands behind his back and a huge grin on his face. She yanked on the sheet, and as it fell away, she gasped even louder than before. Her hands flew to her mouth, and she seemed to be stuck in place.

  “Clay…” she murmured.

  “Surprise!”

  “You couldn’t have,” she said, staring up at the painting of the woman looking out the rain-splattered window with tears running down her face. The very painting Andrea had been obsessed with for so long and had sold for over half a million dollars—his entire year’s salary.

  “Oh, but I could.”

  Tears welled in her eyes as they turned to face him. “How?”

  “Does it matter how? Just know that I got it back for you.”

  “It absolutely matters how. I mean…this painting…this…” She couldn’t seem to speak. “It was highly sought after. I know who I sold it to. I know what he was willing to spend to get it. He never would have sold it back to you.”

  He grinned. “Well, that’s obviously not true, is it?”

  “How?” she repeated.

  So, Clay launched into the story. “It took a hell of a lot of backroom dealings to even freaking figure out who you’d sold it to. I didn’t want to invade your privacy, so I didn’t go through your things. But I eventually found out who you’d sold it to and confronted the couple who had purchased it. They point-blank refused to sell it back to me, no matter my sob story.”

  Andrea chuckled. “I bet they did.”

  He took a deep breath. This was the part he wasn’t fond of. “So…I went to Asher.”

  “You did what?” she stammered.

  “Well, he seemed to know the art industry, like you do here. I had to use all my resources. Let me tell
you…he wasn’t exactly happy to see me.”

  “After what happened at Brady’s wedding, I’d think not.”

  “But he ended up helping me.”

  “Why the hell would he do that?” she demanded.

  Clay scratched his head and looked at his feet. “You, Andrea. He hates me, but he still cares for you enough to help me keep you happy.”

  “Oh, Clay, you didn’t have to do that,” she whispered.

  “Course I did. Anyway, we tracked down an art dealer who was selling another painting that the couple wanted even more than this one. I put the bid in on it and then went back to the couple and offered a trade.”

  “They didn’t…”

  “They didn’t want to. They offered to buy the piece from me. I told them what they told me…it wasn’t for sale. I think I ended up charming them though because here’s the painting I wanted, and they have the one they wanted on their fireplace mantel.”

  Andrea leveled him with a look that he couldn’t read at first. It was part, You’re an idiot, and part, I’m going to fuck you on the spot. He was pretty okay with that.

  “Well, do you like it?”

  She shook her head. “I love it. I cannot believe you right now.”

  He wrapped his arms around her waist and brought his lips down on hers, slowly and gently. “You make me crazy, Andrea. All I want is for you to be happy. I would do anything to make you happy.”

  “Can’t you see?” she whispered, tears brimming her eyes again. “You make me happy. It’s always been you that makes me happy.”

  “Now, don’t mess up your makeup,” he joked, clearing his throat. A lump was growing there, the more choked up she got. “You still have a gallery to open.”

  “Thank you. For this. For everything.”

  “Thank you for giving us a second chance. I never knew that this was what I wanted all along. But I’m never going to forget it now.”

  She kissed him then, ceaselessly, drowning out the rest of his words. They stayed like that—flat-out making out—until someone cleared their throat behind them. Apparently, the staff was here and ready to prepare the gallery to be opened.

  When the gallery officially opened an hour later, Clay was at Andrea’s side for the entire thing. He greeted her customers and directed people to the various displays, and overall, he enjoyed her success.