Chapter 9: The Truth About Clark
After the meeting adjourned, Clark walked with me out of the high-rise office building and into the bright morning sunlight of the plaza.
"I owe you an apology," I said as we walked toward the parking garage. "When Brenda said she was sending someone to help me handle Jordan at the party, I genuinely thought I was paying for an actor. I didn't mean to drag a senior financial investigator into a poolside soap opera."
Clark laughed, a rich, genuine sound that made a few people passing by turn their heads.
"You didn't drag me into anything, Maya," he said, stopping near the edge of the fountain. "Brenda asked my firm to handle the asset tracing, but I was the one who read through Jordan's deposition transcripts. When I saw the cruel things he was saying about you while you were raising four kids alone, I volunteered to deliver the subpoena personally."
I looked at him, surprised. "Why go through the trouble of pretending to be my date?"
Clark’s expression softened, his dark eyes meeting mine without any of the professional detachment from the boardroom.
"Because a man like that thrives on making women feel small," he said quietly. "I wanted him to see that his opinion of you was completely irrelevant. But to be completely honest... standing next to you on that patio wasn't a chore."
I felt a sudden, warm flush rise in my cheeks—an emotion I hadn't felt since my early twenties.
May you like
"My work on your case is officially finished as of this morning," Clark added, pulling a simple white business card from his pocket and placing it into my hand. "Which means it wouldn't be a conflict of interest if I asked you to get a cup of coffee sometime. A real one. No script, no ex-husbands, no gift boxes."
I looked down at the card, then back up at him, a genuine smile spreading across my face. "I think I'd like that, Clark."
