Clay's Unwanted Blondie

Chapter 9

                     ♥⁠╣CLAY╠⁠♥

"YOU HAVE A LOT OF EXPLAINING TO DO. Brooklyn Konstantinos? I didn't strike her as your type"

She wasn't his type, not in this lifetime.

"I'll explain when I get back. How's the thing coming along?"

"I'm the best in the firm but that doesn't mean I don't have limits, Clay. The contract is pretty legit and the deadline doesn't make it any easy. Six fucking months?"

Years spent in law school and a few in Hartley Associates and his uncle was as useless as they came.

"Hey I know what you are thinking but not everyone is Clark-Kent-Clay. Take the issue to another lawyer and he'll tell you the same thing. You messed up buddy"

"I know", Clay grunted eyeing the missis who sat across him in the leather confines of his plane.

"Don't fret though, there must be some way around this. I'll call you when I crack the case", Cayon humored.

"Thanks. Means a lot"

"Jesus, the Almighty Clay Cervantes saying thanks? Now I must meet this famous Brooklyn, Ryder keeps talking about"

Clay hung up a little bit humored that Cayon thought a woman would change him. Sure he had broken all his rules and fell in love but that didn't mean he would allow a woman to dictate what he did let alone change him.

He had never been the hopeless romantic kind. The kind that practically drooled over a woman or begged a woman not to leave him. The kind that wouldn't breathe until the woman he loved was in his arms. Or the kind that listened to sappy songs to nurse a heartbreak.

He loved Calandria and sure her rejection came a little bit unexpected but he wasn't the type to drown in a bottle of Jack Daniels begging for her to take him.

No siree. He treated this like one of his business comebacks. And every comeback had a solution to it.

And his solution sat across him, wearing a cropped sweatshirt that revealed brown soft skin and a navel coupled with crochet short shorts that revealed smooth toned legs that ran all day.

He grimaced.

The little outfit she wore was a silly attempt of trying to make him mad. He'd clearly instructed her to wear something decent and hoo Brooklyn Konstantinos had a way of thriving with rebellion.

"Nice shorts", he taunted.

Her hair up in a messy bun, her sneakers on top of the coffee table, she didn't flinch at the remark. Rather she kept her nose buried in the latest issue of Vogue magazines trying her best to ignore him.

"At some point you'll have to talk to me"

She stayed mute, the silence so palpable he could taste it.

"We have to set some ground rules about what we'll say and do in front of Mr Park De Yeon. I really need this contract, Brooklyn and one misstep and I'll--"

"Call my daddy and set up the wedding? Yeah I heard that pretty clear, Clay Cervantes"

Pining him to be the bad guy. Classic manoeuvre the women's population adopted to change the situation.

He had tried being nice but the woman wouldn't budge. She was one of the rebellious lot men strayed away from and unlucky for him, he was stuck with her for six fucking months.

Jesus Christ, six months.

"Good, now that we have that out of the way you won't mind signing this, will you?"