Georgie heard the anger seething in Clay’s voice as he continued. “I’ll say this one time, Ms. Camden. Georgie works for me. My entire staff works for me. Not my father. You, on the other hand, do work for my father. Not me. Now get out of my office and do not come back.”
“Senator—” Camden attempted to cut him off, but he didn’t allow it.
“Georgie, have security escort her out. I want a report made to the capitol police for trespassing, breaking and entering, and vandalism.”
Boone’s voice followed on the heels of Clay’s. “How’d they get in and not set off alarms?”
“The door was unlocked.” Georgie eyed the woman. “How did you get a key?”
“I told you. I’m the senator’s campaign advi—”
Clay’s irritated voice blasted from Georgie’s phone. “I don’t have a campaign adviser, Ms. Camden. Therefore, you do not work for me.”
“Sir, I work for your father.”
“Georgie, make sure security retrieves any keys. And find out who gave them access.”
“Yes, sir!” She shouldn’t feel so gleeful but Georgie wanted to do a little Snoopy dance standing right there in the hall.
“I’ll be back in Washington by early afternoon. We’ll discuss this situation then.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Take your phone off speaker, Georgie.” Clay’s voice warmed and she hastened to follow his order, holding the phone to her ear and backing away from the door so the two guards could get inside.
“Yes, sir?”
“I’m sorry, sweet pea. My old man is a piece of work, as you are well aware. I’ll deal with him. Inventory everything they touched. If there’s so much as a smudge, he’ll pay for it.”
“Okay.”
“Call for reservations at Max’s. I’ll buy you a steak then take you home and make it up to you for having to deal with the old man’s crap.”
“Okay.”
“Bring an overnight bag, sweet pea. In fact, we need to talk about you leaving some things at my house so you don’t have to run back and forth to your place when you’re staying with me.”
Her strangled voice choked on the word so it came out breathless. “Okay.”
“I’ll see you around one.”
“Okay.”
She hung up, dazed and feeling like an idiot. Okay? That’s all she could get out of her mouth when the man she had such intense feelings for informed her that he wanted her to move some of her things into his house?
“Georgie!”
She jumped and stared at the petite woman who ruled Clay’s office, his long-time secretary and administrative assistant.
“Ev?”
“Hon, I’ve been saying your name for nearly five minutes. You wanna tell me why security hustled those two people out of here?”
The warm, glowy feeling generated by Clay’s words faded beneath the harsh reality of the past thirty minutes. “That woman and her assistant came from Mr. Barron.”
“Oh, Lordy, hon. Say no more. When’s the senator coming back to town?”
“This afternoon.”
“Yup. Figured he’d be cutting this trip short. Did she tell you that you were fired?”
“Yes.”
“That old jackass is up to his tricks again.” Ev patted her shoulder. “Don’t you worry, Georgie. The old coot has fired me more times than I can remember. I’ll find out how they got clearance and keys.”
The phone on Georgie’s desk rang. “That’s my cue to get to work.”
* * *
Clay lathered shaving cream on his cheeks, watching Georgie through the mirror. She lay sprawled on her stomach in his bed—their bed now. He hadn’t convinced her to actually move in with him, but over the last few weeks, some of her things were slowly migrating into his closet and onto the counters of the vanity in the bathroom. He liked having her in his house. A lot. And that was like taking a kick from a mule. There was no getting used to things, no need to make concessions to having her underfoot all the time. He preferred her with him. The nights she spent at her own place left him restless and pissed off.
He continued to feel off balance though he had a better understanding of his brothers’ predicaments now. Cord and Chance both found the women who completed them. He’d never considered finding his own. Was Georgie the one? Or was this some idiotic infatuation that would cause him to crash and burn—personally and politically?
“Okay, how’s this sound?” Georgie cleared her throat as he turned to face her, offering her his entire focus. “My name is Clayton Barron. Some of you are familiar with my name. By the time this election is over, the entire country will know who I am.” She glanced up from her notes. “A little too arrogant?”