International Relation(ship)s

Chapter 8

"Schlatt! After everything we've been through. "

"I'm gonna call security."

"You wouldn't dare ." Clay grinned, knowing that it was probably true. Probably.

"Fine then." Schlatt put down the documents in his hands, swinging his legs down and clasping his hands on the desk, a move which would have been intimidating to practically anyone but Clay. "How about we talk about your little English holiday then." His gaze tightens on the little emotion that flickered behind Clay's well-developed emotional mask. "When do I get my wedding invitation?"

"I didn't come here to be interrogated - I have a question for you."

Schlatt let out a genuine laugh this time, relaxing his posture slightly, watching how Clay stiffened and the blood ran to his cheeks. They hurried off on a rushed conversation so chock-full of political jargon and half-spoken phrases which didn't need to be finished, focusing on Richards, a candidate who the right-wing worshipped, and the heir to a rather questionably-large family inheritance. He was almost definitely going to be his mother, the current president's, largest competitor, and, although he had faith in her, he knew that the up and coming election was going to be tough still. But almost as soon as Clay's embarrassment had died down, the heat that had so rudely rushed to his cheeks near-subsided, Schlatt just brought it right back up.

"Thanks for making that mess the other day, by the way. I won the office bet as to when your first international fuck up would happen."

"And just when I thought I could trust you!" Clay gasped dramatically.

"So what's going on between you two then?"

"What do you mean what's going on- there is nothing going on."

"You sound awfully defensive, Clay. Why's that, if there's nothing going on?" Schlatt taunted him playfully, sucking on another M&M.

"We made a mistake, we fixed it, it's all done now. Where's the issue?"

"Okay, okay!" he held up his hands in mock-defeat. "I get it, he's attractive."

"Only if you're into Disney Princes." Clay pulled a similar face to that of someone eating sour candy, only causing Schlatt's smirk to grow.

"Yeah, and everyone's into Disney Princes, aren't they?"

" I'm not!"

"Yeah, right." Schlatt arched an eyebrow with the sort of innocence which was undeniably laced with skepticism.

" 'Yeah, right' my ass."

"I don't know Clay, you seem awfully obsessed with him. Didn't you keep a magazine on your desk with his face on all summer-

"-that was a coincidence! It just happened to have him on the cover-"

"-oh and you just happened to stare at it for hours on end? And don't get me started on the dartboard-"

"You are insufferable, Schlatt."

"Yet you keep on coming back to me, just like all my other exes." Clay let out a groan but was so very thankful when the political talk restarted.

As he left the building, satisfied with the information he had squeezed out of Schlatt, his phone started to ring. He pulled it out of the back pocket of trousers, not even needing to check the screen to know that it was Niki.

"What's up?" He asked, sucking in a deep breath of the crisp air, and watching how his breath condensed into a soft cloud as he released it, quickly dissipating into the dark evening.