Page 70 of Broken Brothers

As we drank, we shifted to less serious topics, including which girls we were chasing, what shows we’d recently been watching, and what we planned to do with all the money we’d soon be making. I mentioned that Claire had probably come on to me, but I emphasized that I was being overly cautious after what happened with Layla. Morgan did not seem flustered or bothered by what I had said in the slightest and just told me to be careful.

It was an easy enough recommendation, and when Morgan left, I was feeling all sorts of giddy and excited. We had a long-term goal, one that would make us both wealthy and satisfied. We would win out over Edwin Hunt, whose deals had become too short-sighted to succeed against our long-term plan.

But in the state of drunken arousal that I was in, I did something that Morgan had warned me not to do but I did anyways.

I set up drinks with Claire the next night.

It wasn’t like I was blacked out when I made the suggestion. It wasn’t like I was surprised when I woke up and saw I had suggested drinks at 8 p.m. that evening. In fact, I was much closer to being sober when I made the text than drunk. I knew exactly what I was doing.

I just wanted to celebrate, even if the celebration put me in a position of something resembling danger. I just told myself to be careful and to keep Claire at arm’s length if she tried to flirt.

I tried not to think about why I had really messaged her too much, knowing if I did, I probably wouldn’t like the answer. I wouldn’t like the idea that I was feeling a bit lonely and wanting the intimacy, no matter how fake it was, from Layla.

Nevertheless, when the evening rolled around, I made sure to dress my finest, throwing on a crisp white button down shirt, nice slacks, some sharp, black wingtip shoes, and a nice but not extravagant watch. I shaved my neck but not my face, the better to give the appearance of some sexy scruff, and made sure I wore my finest cologne. I may have said I didn’t want to attract that kind of attention from Claire, but it sure didn’t seem like it.

I didn’t mind, though. I could always say I was just dressing to impress a business client. Even if the truth…

I didn’t let my mind go into it too much, however. I realized how much I had shifted since my first encounter with her, when not only had I not seen her as someone I could pursue, I didn’t even find her all that attractive. Funny how things changed so quickly… and so desperately when I wasn’t getting any because of my work and my social life.

When I showed up at the bar, I flashed a big smile as I saw Claire in the back. Notably, she wore a slightly seductive dress, one that revealed more of her chest than before. She was far from sexualizing herself as Layla had, but it was a sharp departure from the business, button-down Claire that I had known up to this point.

“Glad you could join,” she said as she hugged me. “I began to think you would never make the offer.”

Ouch. But… playful. That’s a departure.

“Well, I did make the offer, we just had to work on finalizing it.”

I was speaking to the business offer that served as the pretense for us meeting up tonight. I had a bad feeling about where we were actually heading. And honestly… the feeling wasn’t that “bad.”

We sat down and I was surprised to see Claire slide me a gin and soda.

“I know what you like, why wait?”

Well, at least part of her was true to form. I took a sip, savored it, and smiled at her.

“Well, I think this is going to be the start of something delightful,” I said. “It’s hard to have a bad night when you’re indulging in a drink as good as this.”

“I would say so,” Claire said. “So Morgan told me you were in San Francisco.”

Morgan told you, huh?I wasn’t sure whether to be alarmed or not by this bit of news. I was more curious as to whether or not Morgan and Claire had discussed me in any further detail. Going to San Francisco in and of itself was far from a big deal. Going to San Francisco and gossiping about me in further detail… that might have meant something else.

“I did,” I said. “When business beckons, we have to move.”

“Seems like it’s less we and more you,” she said with a soft chuckle, a rare addition of emotion considering her normal silence and straightforwardness. “Chance Hunt, criss-crossing the country, making deals, left and right.”

She was becoming far more comfortable talking to me like this. This was not even the same Claire McLendon I had met in her office. Of course, that Claire had employees in earshot of her. This Claire…

“Well, I could say the same for you, Claire,” I said. I was slowly shifting into “fuck it” mode in which I would just let the night take me wherever I wanted to, consequences be damned. I knew doing anything beyond hugging her was asking for trouble as an investor, let alone all of the emotional trouble I’d carried with me in the past, but what was one night going to do to us? What was one hookup going to do?

“How so,” she said, flipping her hair to the side.

“You are doing what I wish I could do,” I said. “Running a successful business.”

To my surprise, Claire let out a much stronger laugh than I ever could have anticipated from her, even if I had told the world’s funniest joke. It seemed so out of character for her, I was left wondering what, exactly, I had said that was so funny… and, more importantly, why it was so funny.

“What?” I said.

“It’s nothing,” she said. “Running a business is much harder and much more stressful than it looks. I don’t ever go out. Dating life? Forget it.”