Clash (Cal and Macy's Story 1)

Chapter 1

Mac and Matt know how to throw a party for a kid's first birthday.

Or rather, Macy knows how to throw a party. While this might be Mac and Matt's big day as their little boy, Aaron, is turning one, I'm pretty sure the enormity of what I'm looking at is one-hundred percent due to Mac's best friend, Macy Carrington.

I step out onto the back marble terrace of what I'm guessing is upward of a twenty thousand square foot mansion in Water Mill--its use for Aaron's birthday party courtesy of Macy and her family's enormous wealth. It took me just under two hours to get here from the city, but I didn't have anything better to do on this beautiful summer Saturday, and besides... I'd never miss Aaron's birthday party.

I'd never miss anything that was important to Mac, and her son turning one is about as important as it gets.

I take a moment to soak in the grandeur of wealth such as I have never known, never seen, and after today's party, will probably never see again, because even as a hot-shot lawyer, I don't run in circles like this. The property is easily close to ten acres in size and backs right up to the shores of Mecox Bay, where a huge sailboat is docked along with a smaller motor boat. A vibrant green lawn of the most perfect-looking grass I've ever seen in my life spreads out before me with the shining, blue bay waters sparkling at the south end. A huge, white tent is erected right in the center that easily holds two hundred partygoers, a mix of adults and children.

Across the lawn, various tables with large, shady umbrellas are erected and people sit around, lazily drinking mimosas and munching on tiny crab cakes and little blue petit fours. Children run around screaming, holding balloon animals. Over to the left, near the massive pool, a band is setting up. Clowns meander around, either completely charming or terrifying some of the kids. Near the back of the party, just before the water's edge, is a little arena where pony rides are being given.

Holy fuck!

Who throws a party like this for a one-year-old?

This isn't really Mac's style. Definitely not Matt's style.

This is absolutely, one-million percent the brainchild of Macy Carrington, and I bet Mac groaned in disbelief when she saw this setup, and Matt probably cursed under his breath.

But Macy is Macy, and when you come from a family worth millions upon millions of dollars, this probably doesn't seem all that over the top. And when you figure that Mac and Macy are as thick as thieves, tighter than any two women I know, I'm sure that Mac ultimately forgives Macy her over-the-top ways and even loves the efforts she put in to making this a special day for the Connover family.

It's been two years since Mac became a Connover by marrying Matt, and it's still weird to me to think of them being "a family". It's still beyond my belief that Matt actually took a risk and opened his heart up to a woman. Of course, that woman is McKayla "Mac" Dawson Connover, who may be as close to perfect as any man would ever find, and so it really shouldn't be surprising that Matt tumbled hard for her.

We have a very crazy and complex relationship--the three of us. You see... Matt used to be my best friend. We've known each other for just over sixteen years. We went to undergrad and law school together. Shared secrets. Stood against common enemies together. Chugged beers and lamented when our beloved Yankees didn't make the playoffs.

The absolute best of friends.

Until I slept with his first wife.

It was stupid.

I was drunk and didn't know what I was doing.

I stopped it before I could... um... you know... finish.

Didn't matter though. I fucked that friendship up good and lost something very important.

Oddly, Matt has forgiven me my transgression. It only took him fourteen years to do so, and the love of a good woman by the name of Mac, but I still suffer guilt despite his absolution. It's my biggest regret in life. My deepest shame.

Even though I have his forgiveness, I'll never again have that friendship. Mac is the odd tie that still binds Matt and me together. She is, in fact, probably my best friend now, and oh yeah... she's also my law partner. We formed the firm of Carson and Dawson, which later changed to Carson and Connover after Mac and Matt got married, and we've been practicing together for two years now. Because Mac and I share a business and have become very close friends, that has inevitably brought Matt back into my life once again. Mac and I actually rent office space from Matt because his law firm is quite huge. I tend to see Matt almost every day during the business week, usually only passing in the halls where we'll give a nod to each other in acknowledgment.

Yup. Pretty fucking complex.

So, Mac is my best friend, but Macy is Mac's best friend, so that makes things a little more convoluted but not in a weird way. While Mac is the tie that binds Matt and me together, she is not the tie that binds Macy and me together, as Macy and I are nothing more than casual acquaintances. We see each other maybe once a month when Mac and Matt will have us all over to dinner, or when Macy will stop by the office to take Mac out to lunch.

I don't know much about her and really don't want to. She and I are like oil and water. We don't mix at all.

Or maybe we're a bit more volatile, like baking soda and vinegar.

It seems that she's a bit jealous of my friendship with Mac, and perhaps I'm a bit jealous of the same exact thing. Regardless, we usually butt heads when we're in the same room together, which is something that causes Mac enormous frustration, but otherwise amuses Matt.

Macy is drop-dead gorgeous but past that, she's brash, opinionated, and overly confident, almost bordering on egotistical. She rubs me the wrong way almost every time I'm around her, and over the years, we've developed a knack for trying to tear each other down. Apparently, I rub her the wrong way too. She thinks I've got a "holier than thou" complex with people, and I think she's pretty much amoral and unbalanced.

She once told me I was a glorified saint on a pedestal of cracker crumbs. I have no clue what the fuck that meant, but I didn't like it.

Yeah, she's pretty fucking full of herself. Just like this party she's thrown. I mean, who the fuck is she trying to impress? Certainly not Mac and Matt because, for some reason, they like her just fine despite all her money. While by no means an expert, I did take a few psychology classes in undergrad, and my vague recollection has me thinking that perhaps she's trying to compensate for something.

My eyes scan the back lawn, and I see several people I know through the legal community. Walking down several marbled steps from the terrace to the lawn, I'm immediately approached by a tuxedoed waiter with a tray of champagne. He inclines his head to offer me one, but I ignore him and brush past. I'm pretty sure Matt would have insisted on a keg of beer, so I'll start searching for that.

"Cal... wait up," I hear from behind me, and I turn to see Mac jogging down the same marbled steps I just traversed. She's stunning as always with her black hair pulled up in a youthful ponytail and her green eyes sparkling in the sun. She's wearing a pair of white capri pants and a light blue tank top. Even though she's my law partner and best friend, I will never stop appreciating the sexiness she always seems to project.

Matt's a fucking lucky, lucky man.

I open my arms and she steps into a quick, hard hug before pulling back. "Did you just get here?"

"Yeah... got a little lost walking through that monstrosity of a house," I tell her with a grin, pointing over her shoulder at the Carrington mansion.

"This party is crazy, isn't it?" She chuckles as she leans in toward me. "Like Aaron will ever remember any of this."

"What did you expect?" I ask, my voice dripping with disapproval. "This is Macy we're talking about. She doesn't know the meaning of sedate."

Mac swats my shoulder with her hand and gives me a stern look. "Be nice, Cal. She's my dearest friend, and I love her despite her quirks."

"You mean emotional hang-ups," I mutter, and her eyes flash hot at me. I quickly avert the tongue-lashing she's going to hand me by bumping my shoulder against hers. "Where's the birthday boy?"

"He's inside taking a nap. Matt's mom is in there with him," she says as she jerks her thumb over her shoulder. "But come on down to the tent and get something to eat and drink."

Mac loops her hand into the crook of my elbow and starts leading me toward the main party. The summer sun feels fantastic. Although I feel a little underdressed for this type of opulence, I'm thankful for my decision to stay cool in a pair of simple khaki shorts and a white polo, short-sleeved shirt.

"You came alone," Mac observes as we meander across the grass that's so thick and plush it feels like walking on pillows.

"Yeah... and she's not very happy about it," I say offhandedly.

"Well, what does she expect?" she exclaims heatedly. "She broke up with you. She left you behind. And now... what? She expects you to just let her back into your empty, desolate arms again?"

I snort and give Mac another companionable bump of my shoulder. "You're such a drama queen."

But Mac is hitting the nail on the head.

My girlfriend... well, ex-girlfriend... is back in town and wants to pick right back up where we left off. And that is apparently at the spot where she left me about six months ago in pursuit of a larger dream than us.

Camille Grant is quite a woman. She's gorgeous and intelligent with a razor-sharp wit. She's also ambitious and power hungry, so when a coveted partnership became available in the law firm she works at, she decided that her time would be better served pursuing that than a relationship with me. She left for her firm's London office where she was going to be competing with three other associates for the prized position.

I made somewhat of an attempt to offer a solution, suggesting we keep the relationship going although it would be long distance. She promptly shut that idea down, claiming that although she loved me, she needed to put one-hundred percent of her energies into fighting for the promotion. That meant she didn't have any time to devote to anything else.

Of course, that fucking hurt. I mean... I was in love with her and thought I could see a very long and prosperous relationship in our future. I'm not sure how I missed it, but apparently, her love of the law and career was just stronger than her feelings for me.

So I accepted it.

I nursed a broken heart for a bit, but then I came out of it. I fucked around for a bit, because shit... I'm a guy and I like fucking. I dated a bit too, because even as much as I like to fuck, I truly am the type that is ready to settle down into a permanent relationship with a woman. That woman may not be Camille, but I'm not giving up hope she could be waiting for me just around the corner.

Ironically, and bringing with it a bit of confusion, Camille didn't get the partnership. She came back to New York last week with her tail between her legs. I hadn't heard from her in six months and then she shows up on my doorstep with tears in her eyes.

Of course, I invited her in because I'm not a callous man. I listened to her pour out her heartaches about the lost opportunity with the partnership and how lonely she felt. She didn't once mention the lost opportunity with me, and she certainly didn't mention any regrets as far as that went.

But she did make a more than awkward pass at me, and I was stunned.

More tears came as she pressed her body into mine and tried to rub my cock to life with her hand. Sure... it responded, because hey... she's gorgeous and she had her hand on my cock. But I'm also man enough to control myself, and I gently pushed her away with a soft rebuke that it just wasn't going to happen.

At least not that night.

We ended up just talking, and eventually she apologized for the way in which she cut things off with me. She then mentioned regrets and cried some more.

And now I don't know where exactly we stand. She wants to try to make a go of it again, but I'm obviously a little gun-shy when it comes to Camille. We've had dinner together once since the night she showed up on my doorstep, and while it was easy to fall back into the comfortable companionship we once shared, I'm still not sure if I want to go down that path again.

After last night, I'm not so sure she does either anymore. She asked to spend the day with me today, but I put her off because I had Aaron's party to attend. Camille asked to come with me, but I gently declined, and then she promptly got super pissed off at me.

So yeah... she's not here with me, and I have no clue whether or not I should let her back in my life at this point. That, however, is not something I want to worry about today. I'm on the beautiful shores of Mecox Bay on a warm, summer day. I'm here with my best friend and business partner, celebrating an important milestone in her life.

Nothing else is going to come in the way of me having a good time today.

Chapter 2

I'm not even going to let Macy Carrington get in the way of me having a good time, and that should be a feasible goal as long as I stay away from her. As long as we keep our distance from each other, there's no way our blade-sharpened tongues can do battle.

"Food and beer over there," Mac says as we step under the cool shade of the tent and she releases her hold on my arm. She then points in the opposite direction and says, "Matt has a table over there for us."

Mac winds her way through the crowd, nodding politely to a few people but with her eyes always returning to Matt. It's like they both operate under some type of cosmic force because he surely senses her approach as his eyes are pinned intently on her. As she gets closer, his smile gets brighter until he reaches a hand out and pulls her down onto his lap.

Fuck, I want that, and maybe it makes me a pussy, I don't know. But I'm so ready to settle down. I want the wife and kids, and I know without a doubt that I'm ready for the responsibility of it all. My dream fantasy would be to find a gorgeous wife that fucks like a porn star, is independent yet warm, and is as equally adept at baking cookies as she is at running a million-dollar corporation. Then we'd produce some beautiful kids who would be equally as brilliant as their parents, and my life would be complete.

So fucking ready for that.

I pick up a plate at the end of a buffet table and casually stroll down the line, looking at the food. I'm an adventurous eater and will try anything, but I'm definitely more a burger and hot dog kind of dude versus the little toast points with caviar and sour cream that sit on a chilled platter before me.

Sighing, I bypass the fish eggs, as well as the pate and rumaki, and take a few skewers of what looks like some type of Asian chicken, before heading toward the keg. You can't go wrong with beer in my opinion.

Once I'm loaded up with a frosted pint glass of Heineken and three chicken sticks, I make my way over to where Mac and Matt are sitting. I can't hide my grimace though when I see that the lovely hostess of this party has joined them at the table. Very sternly, I give myself an actual pep talk as I walk their way.

Do not engage with Macy.

Don't let her bait you.

Keep your eyes up and off her tits.

This is the usual conversation I have with myself any time I'm in Macy's presence. Even though she is madly infuriating, and I honestly can't see what Mac finds so special about her, I'm ashamed to admit that the woman is so beautiful and sexy, I sometimes let my thoughts go lewd when I'm around her.

Now, I reason this is because I need something to occupy my thoughts so I don't have to listen to her irritating voice or acknowledge the cool condescension of her gaze.

It's not hard to think lewd thoughts around Macy Carrington. She's stunning and unpredictable, her looks always seeming to change with the blowing of the wind. Today, her hair is colored a dark, strawberry-blond, and it's grown longer since the last time I've seen her. She has long, sweeping bangs she wears to the side of her forehead and that only draws attention to her gorgeous blue eyes. Her body is willowy with just the right amount of curves and as I've paid tribute before, a fantastic set of tits which reveal a deep cleavage in her white summer dress.

While I may not have much use for Macy Carrington, I will admit she's starred in a few of my own fantasies while jacking off. It usually involves her sucking my cock, because in my fantasy, if her mouth is full of dick, I don't have to listen to her irritating voice.

I did have a dream about a month ago, though, that sort of bothered me. It's the one and only time I've ever had a dream about Macy, and in this dream, it had nothing to do with all the amazing ways I'm betting she could get me off. Instead, I was going down on her... eating her out ravenously and making her come over and over again. It was so real, I swear I could smell her shampoo, which is delicate and citrusy, and I could feel the silky smoothness of her skin under my hands. In my dream, her fingers gripped my hair so hard, my scalp was tingling when I woke up and my mouth was flooded with saliva. I also had a dick so hard and horny that it only took me about two minutes to jerk an orgasm out, and then I was totally freaked out about dreaming about Macy.