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“Well, Ophelia. That is amazing news. We knew you had it in you. We saw your line in Portland last year, that last dress.” Elizabeth made a “whoo” sound as she turned to look at her husband.
I swallowed. “That’s actually for Madeline, too. She’s going to wear it before the wedding, either at the party or the rehearsal dinner.” I turned to Clay. “I’m assuming you’ll be there as my pin cushion holder, right? I’ve made adjustments, but you never know.”
“I’ll ask Elliot if I can work remotely that day. I’m sure he wouldn’t have a problem with it. He told me he didn’t care where I worked, just as long as I got everything in order. This week I was at the office, but I’m sure I can lug my laptop into your studio,” Clay said, not even dropping a beat.
“The office?” Paul asked, taking his attention off his plate for the first time since pickleball. “What office?”
It was Clay’s turn to sit up a little straighter, and damn, he deserved to boast about it. “I was hired by an architecture firm to help organize their accounts. Elliot took over for his dad, and unfortunately, his dad wasn’t the best at numbers in his later years.”
“Clayton,” Elizabeth whispered.
“Don’t get too excited. It may just be temporary, but hey, it’s something.”
“I don’t think it’s temporary.” I placed my hand on Clay’s forearm. “I really think Elliot is going to keep you around. He’d be stupid not to. And when I have a question, I can always call, and you can handle it from here.”
Clay furrowed his brow, and his eyes twitched. He didn’t like the idea of handling my finance questions from across the country, I could tell. A part of me hated it too.
“Have you thought about taking on more clients?” Paul said, pointing his fork at Clay.
“I work for Elliot. I’m his employee. I don’t think he’d appreciate me bringing on more accounting clients when I need to focus on his books.”
“Maybe you could start your own business. Jackson and Rye and that ugly black mark you always mention won’t stop you from starting something of your own. I bet that news has died off, and people have forgotten who Clayton Nolan is, anyway,” Elizabeth suggested.
I dropped my jaw and angled my body toward him. “You could do that.”
“I just need to focus on paying Milo back. I don’t have too much longer before he moves in with Maddy, and then I’m most likely moving in here, that is until I can get enough saved up for my own place. Elliot gave me a pretty decent salary.” Clay looked down, poking at his pasta. “But that’s something I can think of in the future.”
“Well, I am glad you’re finally getting it all together. Maybe Ophelia had something to do with it,” Paul mumbled, turning his attention back to his food.
Clay looked at me, that smile he gave me before returning to his lips. “It was all because of her. I had to impress her somehow.”
Elizabeth chuckled and the topic returned to her Wednesday match with details of pickleball. I blushed and reached over under the table, gently placing my hand on Clay’s knee. If only he knew how much had happened for me because of him. I don’t think I would have ever sent that email to JoAnn if he hadn’t clicked that send button, and I never, ever would have had gone bungee jumping if I wasn’t in his arms.
Maybe we still meant more to each other than we realized.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
-Clay-
My phone buzzed in my pocket as I made my way up the stairs to Ophelia’s studio. I had my laptop in my bag and folders of Elliot’s accounts that still needed to be gone through, but since I had made a major dent in the office, I knew working off site would be fine. Even Elliot basically kicked me out of the office. But the buzzing in my pocket made me think that maybe he had forgotten to give me something, or that I was needed back there.
Before I grabbed the door handle, I answered my phone, not even paying attention to who it was.
“Clay Nolan,” I said, lifting the strap of my bag higher on my shoulder to grab the handle without spilling the coffee in my hand.
“Clay.” The voice of my lawyer, Justin, rang in my ears. It had been weeks since I had heard from him, yet here he was. “I have some news for you.”
“Oh, hey, Justin. If you could give me just one moment to get settled here.” I placed my bag on the ground, setting Ophelia’s coffee next to it. Justin, however, kept going without letting me get another word in.
“Brain Walker. I sent you an email about him. We haven’t heard back from you.”
I closed my eyes and tried to remember the email. It had seemed so long ago that I had completely shifted my focus from it. “Yes, sorry. I’ve been busy. I sent a response. Did that not cover it?”
“We never received a response. Are you sure you sent it?”
I thought, well maybe I never did send that email.
“Oh, maybe not. . .” I mumbled, rubbing my hand against my forehead. “If you give me just once second, I can check—”
