Page 35 of All Twerk, No Play

Mallory scooted closer, refilling my glass with liquid courage. “Good thing we’re not ladies.”

“Definitely not a lady,” Connor said with a nudge.

“I’ll just say …” I said, trailing my fingertip down the damp glass. “I have no regrets about going to his place.”

“He took you tohisplace?” Kate’s palm slapped the floor, her jaw unhinged. “We’ve been friends for years and I’ve never seen his apartment.”

“And he visited the next afternoon once my bed arrived.”

Their scandalized faces were worth the white lie about my furniture assembly.

“Damn, sounds like the perfect rebound," Kate said.

“And a great way to get my brother out of your system,” Mallory said.

“Though I can’t believe you dated Alex for seven years,” Kate said. “What did you see in him? Besides those broad shoulders, those stunning blue eyes, and that little bit of scruff …”

When Mallory shoved Kate, she raised her hands. “What, your brothers are hot!”

“Okay, besides those irresistible Clarke genetics …” Mallory rolled her eyes. “He was such an asshole. Even now he’s barely tolerable. How could you stand him for so long?”

I took a sip of champagne to gather my thoughts, but Connor explained for me. “You wouldn’t believe the egos around Hamilton & Houghton, Alex wasn’t even the worst of them. Dick measuring contests were the norm.”

“And having a vagina meant I had to have the biggest balls of all.”

“Sounds awful,” Mallory said.

“It was paradise compared to my previous job,” I said, taking in their sympathetic expressions. “After I left there, lawsuits revealed rampant sexual misconduct. Dozens of women came forward with accusations that bordered on criminal behavior, but nobody was fired.”

“Damn, hope those other women got help," Mallory said.

I paused. I’d been so deep in applying to law school, I hadn’t considered the women who risked their careers to share their stories. What happened to them?

“I hope so too,” I murmured.

“So, now that Alex is off the market and you’ve taken your night with Cruz, do you need introductions to Saratoga’s eligible bachelors?” Kate asked.

“Matchmaking!” Mallory perked up, clapping her hands. “What are you looking for in a partner? I introduced Kate to Paul, I’ll find you someone amazing.”

Maybe they were right. I didn’t need to marry Alexander to build a legal empire with him. When Richard needed a cash injection for The Sinclair Group, he hadn’t turned to my grandmother’s wealthy family—he’d approached Calvin Larsson, and now Sinclair Larsson was a billion-dollar company. Maybe I’d be better off with Alexander as just my business partner.

When he finally agreed to move to New York City, he could bring Grace and Ruby. Hell, I’d get Ruby a night in the Eloise room at the Plaza if it meant getting back to Manhattan, to show my family what I could accomplish without them.

Ideally in time for Richard’s 80th birthday party in May, only two months away. My family would expect me to bring home somebody handsome and successful, with an Ivy League education.

Alexander could keep Grace, and I’d find a replacement. Men tripped over themselves to date me, so I’d stop ignoring their advances. It was March, I had plenty of time before May to sculpt someone new into the other half of my power couple. Even faster if they worked in real estate and understood how much their career would benefit from a powerful alliance.

I visualized myForbescover again. The blurry gap held a new face … his gaze on my cleavage.

I waved off the matchmaking offer—restraining a full-body shudder at who Mallory Clarke would consider a good choice—and texted the real estate agent who’d shown me this property:

Lawrence, signed a new tenant. Still interested in that celebratory drink?

"Love in an Elevator," Aerosmith

Cruz

“Uptoanhour?”Victoria’s shriek echoed in the awful metal death trap, but I almost couldn’t hear it over the pounding of my heart. I caught my reflection in the elevator’s metal walls—walls I regularly scrubbed to remove fingerprints, one foot lodged on the sensor to keep the doors open—and resented the beads of sweat glistening on my forehead.

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