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A Wildly Seductive Night(5)



“If you wanted easy, you wouldn’t have hired me,” Tyler said, all that bravado rising up once more.

The man was still in his late twenties, brash and full of confidence. Clay was certainly confident, too, but with nearly a decade on Tyler, Clay was wiser. He knew some deals you just didn’t want to touch. Pursuing a thorny opportunity like the one Tyler coveted—trying to lure the creator of the hit cable show Powder, a mega-popular high-stakes drama, to another network—was not going to be easy. That road was fraught with potholes, and Tyler ran the risk of failing and failing big. The network that carried the show had its claws in it, not to mention the fact that the contract was stuffed with odd provisions. But Tyler had made a pitch. He had a plan. He’d outlined a strategy to reel in the big fish.

“You sure you don’t want to look elsewhere to find a new client?”

Tyler shook his head and ran a hand through his thick brown hair, sweaty from their workout. “This is the kind of deal that made me want to get into this business. Something to sink my teeth into,” he said, miming taking a big juicy bite.

Clay laughed. “You’re a fearless bastard.”

“That’s why you named the firm Nichols & Nichols.”

Clay held up a finger, his expression turning serious. “Hey now. We might share the same last name, but don’t ever forget the Nichols before the ampersand belongs to me.”

Tyler chuckled, a deep and hearty laugh that underscored the man’s smile-and-take-no-prisoners attitude. “That’s why you’ll be there for me if things get dicey.”

“If you think I’m going to bail you out of trouble, you are sorely mistaken,” Clay said as they headed to the locker room. But the truth was, he would be there for Tyler. Clay’s job wasn’t just to run the firm; it was to make sure everyone who worked with him could operate at the top of the game. Tyler possessed a stellar track record. His client list was damn impressive, and he’d just nailed a stunning new deal for one of the firm’s top clients, Nick Hammer, creator of the popular dirty cartoon The Adventures of Mister Orgasm.

What Tyler had in mind for Powder was the kind of risk that would make hedge-fund managers quake. But that was what Tyler did well—stare down cliffs, jump from airplanes, bet big.

Clay didn’t always see eye to eye with his cousin. “Listen,” he said, “I’m not saying I agree. I’m not saying we should pursue this client. What I’m saying is I will help you figure it out. So let’s go to this dinner and get the lay of the land.”

Tyler flashed him a smile and they knocked fists. “Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”



After the shower, Clay suited up, knotted his tie, and texted his wife that he’d be home late tonight. Past bedtime.



Clay: Be naked when I get home. I need my mouth all over that beautiful body of yours.

Julia: I see you’re in the mood for me as dessert.

Clay: Always in the mood to eat you, and you know it.





Then he fired off one more note. This one wasn’t of the naughty nature.



Clay: Tell Carly I love her and will kiss her good night when I get home.

Julia: I will, my love.





The thought of not seeing his little girl tonight tugged at his heart, but he’d make sure to find time for her tomorrow.





5





“And then he had the nerve to challenge me.” Julia pointed to her chest, still shocked at JT’s antics today. “Me. The audacity.”

“What does auda . . . whatever that word is . . . what does that mean, Mommy?” Carly craned her neck, looking up at Julia with her wide hazel eyes as they walked hand in hand along Jane Street that evening.

“It means boldness, love,” Julia said, as Ace tugged at the leash. “Heel, Ace,” Julia said to the dog, and the border collie mix fell back in step, right next to her.

Ace was full of pep and energy and needed several walks a day. Clay ran with him in the mornings, and Julia walked him each day, too. She and Carly were exercising him on their way to pick up dinner, as Julia related the basic details. While her daughter was only six and entering kindergarten when summer ended, Julia liked to share as much as was appropriate, and Carly loved tales of life on-set.

“But you can win. You’re tough.” She patted Julia’s lower back. “Don’t let him think he can beat my mom.”

Julia grinned. “No way will I let him win. You have my word.”

Julia Nichols wasn’t a one-trick pony, like JT had tried to suggest with his snide “Miss Purple Snow Globe” comment. Sure, she’d created a wildly successful cocktail that still sold well in stores and supermarkets, but she’d knocked out a few more concoctions since then, too. She had no reason to think she couldn’t do it again, and then she’d show him that he’d taken on the wrong bartender.