As a result, he’d been closing his door more and more lately in an attempt to block out the noise. He didn’t like it, but he needed to keep his performance from slipping.

Clarke knew why Maria was flooding his inbox and calendar—she knew her opponent was distracted with a wedding, and she saw her chance to prove her dedication to the job. What he didn’t fully understand was why his father seemed to be in on the misery.

Not that he was complaining, really. Clarke had been waiting years to feel like his father trusted him enough to lean on him. And it was finally happening. He just didn’t understand why it had to be now, when Clarke was trying to balance cake-tasting appointments with budget meetings.

“Yeah,” Clarke said again, louder this time, when whoever knocked didn’t enter. He was careful to keep the impatience out of his voice. His team knew better than to knock on the closed door unless it was urgent.

He glanced up as the door opened, his fingers freezing over his keyboard when he saw the familiar face. “Liz.”

His ex smiled tentatively. “Can I come in?”

“Sure,” he said automatically. Not because he wanted to see her, but because he was damned curious. Elizabeth had rarely come to see him at work when they’d been dating. She’d been too immersed in her own career. That she’d take time out of her busy workday now was… interesting.

“My mother sent you?”

Liz had the decency to flinch as she shut the door. “I deserve that.”

“Ah,” he said, smiling slightly and leaning back in his chair. “So you admit you’ve been working with her.”

She lifted her chin slightly in defense. “She knows I’ve been wanting to see you since I’ve been back in town. To catch up.”

“We caught up over the lunch you two tricked me into.” Clarke kept his voice light, but there was a note of steel to his tone, too. “I know you’ve moved back because you’re up for a nomination at the AG offices. I know you’ve just bought a place on West 70th and that you’ve had a year to mourn Lucy and think you’re about ready to get a new cat. I know you still pick cucumbers off your salad, even though I maintain they have no taste and are thus harmless.”

She gave a fleeting smile and approached his desk. “And I know you still live in that place off Madison you bought after I moved. I know that if there’s a cheeseburger on the menu, you order it. I know that Priscilla is still your assistant and that you got a promotion. Congratulations.” She lifted her hands and gestured around the large office, the Midtown view.