My dear little broccolis💚💚💚

💚 Give Me The Daddy, I'll Give You The Sugar 💚

"The best investment I ever made, was when I lost fifty million dollars and met the love of my life as a result of that."

‼️Rated M - {Out Of Characters/All Human/Alternate Universe}‼️

‼️Romance/Angst/Drama/Lemons‼️

‼️Clace/The Waylands/OGs/Magnus Bane/‼️

💚 READ & REVIEW, DON'T BE A SILENT READER 💚

Chapter 12: Pecan Pie & Tequila (8,6K)

Clary was awakened by noises coming from the front door, and it took her a couple of seconds to remember that she was at Jace's hotel, waiting for him on his sofa. She blinked, switching off the TV and checking her phone to realise that it was shortly after one in the morning. Yawning, she got off the sofa, decided to go to her bedroom without waiting for Jace any longer since he still hadn't contacted her, but she was met face to face with him.

She felt him rather than saw him, standing in front of her and surrounded by darkness. She opened her mouth to enquire if he was doing okay, but his voice cut her off, rather curt and annoyed,

"I thought you'd be in bed by now."

She switched on the lamp on the small table, not liking the idea of having a conversation in the dark, and she gasped with horror when she saw his face.

"Oh my God! What happened?"

She delicately reached for his face, her eyes never leaving the bruise that was forming on his left eye, and his cut lip. He caught her hand before she could even reach his cheeks, quick to dismiss her,

"Nothing. Why aren't you in bed? The sofa can't be that comfortable."

She rolled her eyes, ignoring his comment just as much as he was ignoring his question, and she kept her hand in his, directing him towards the table overviewing New York and sitting him at a chair. then, she switched on the main light, making Jace hiss at its intensity and she resumed her inquisition,

"Did you get mugged? How could this even happen to you? Don't you have this Kyle 2.0 following you everywhere so this sort of scenario doesn't happen?"

He smirked at her as she moved to the minibar to pour him a glass of scotch, and he retorted, "Look who's talking about safety, now."

She glared at the man, putting the glass n front of him a bit more abruptly than she had intended, and she left the room without a word, going straight to reception to ask for a first aid kit.

When she got back upstairs, she was hit by the smell of food, and she found Jace where she had left him, eating some heated up lasagna and sipping on his scotch. She walked to him and opened the kit, looking for the gel-ice. Jace was still looking at her with those annoyed eyes, and when she tried to take his face to take care of his eye first, he recoiled once again.

She sighed, repressing herself from rolling her eyes once again. "Stop being such a caveman, and let me help you. I've seen plenty of bruises in my time. I know what I'm doing."

He listened, though his eyes strangely stayed on her face, studying her with more attention than ever and making her feel a bit too self-conscious. still, she applied the gel pack on his face, making sure that it would cover the whole bruise without putting pressure on the eyeball, and she asked again,

"What happened?" When she was met with nothing but the silence of Jace eating, she sing-sang, "Friends, remember?"

"I had a ... disagreement." He said reluctantly.

"You got punched by one of your business associates?!" She gasped in horror, before finally noticing the bruises on his hands. "And you punched them back?!"

"No. It was Henry."

Clary did not say a word to that, mostly because she was feeling bad. She should have expected that much coming from Henry, he had always been such a hothead, always willing to pick up fights with the whole wide world. In fact, more than once she had to calm him down before he would do something that would ultimately get him in jail.

She removed the pack from his eye and pat dried the wet area before she took a cooling ointment from the first-aid kit and gently applied it on the discoloured flesh as she apologised for getting Jace involved in this situation,

"I'm sorry."

"You're not the one who threw the first punch," He dismissed, closing his eyes as she kept applying the ointment with her fingers. She didn't retort anything, still feeling bad that Jace was the one who ended up with bruises when she was the one who had been in a bad relationship.

"You're not asking about his face," He noticed, and she shook her head, muttering between her lips,

"Caveman." He smirked, obviously proud of himself, and as she was closing the ointment tub, she let him know, "You should have ignored it."

"Sure. I was going to let him go his merry way with a free swing on his account."

"Well, maybe you should have. I mean, you're the one with the ugly face, now. Trust me, it's always better to get one slap than a whole ass-whopping."

This made Jace snap his eyes open, and grab her hand before she could grab for anything else from the kit. He looked deep in her eyes, apparently angry for some unknown reasons, and when he spoke, it was through gritted teeth,

"Did he dare r—"

"No. Don't let your mind go there. Henry has many flaws, but he never stooped so low."

He let go of her hand, relaxing considerably, and he smugly told her, "You should see his face, anyway. It is much worse than this."

"Caveman. You shouldn't have, though. Henry can be quite vindictive."

"He won't retaliate," He assured her, too sure of himself for her to argue that she knew Henry much better than he did.

He never broke their eye contact, and when she reached to take care of his cut lip, he sat her on his laps. They did not talk whilst she was attending his lip, but she was still very much aware of the intensity of his stare. When she cleared her throat, ready to move away from his laps, he ever so slightly tightened his grip on her as he told her,

"I don't like how comfortable you are dealing with bruises."

"I told you, Jace, my life hasn't been as sweet as yours. I learnt about the harshness of life the hard way, but at least it got me street smart. And if I can give you any piece of advice, next time you want to punch someone, aim for the meaty parts. The bones are what give you bruises."

"Speaking from experience?"

She shrugged, not committing herself in that conversation. It wasn't much that she was ashamed of her past, just that she didn't see anything to be proud of. She remained on his laps, taking his right hand so she could take care of his knuckles.

"Was this experience with Henry?"

"I told you already, this has never been Henry's style. No matter how angry he could get, he never lifted a finger against me."

"What were you even doing with him? You can do so much better."

"I don't know. I guess he is a smooth-talker, and ... no matter I like to think otherwise, at the end of the day, I am still the kind of girl who likes the idea of falling in love with the kind of man who can take my breath away. And he did."

"You never should have fallen in love with him. You should fall for someone who, at the very least, respects you."

She snorted, still waiting for that mystical man to appear in her life. Sure she had plenty of men respecting her, but none of them was open for a loving relationship with her, and neither was she.

"Well, to be fair, I thought he did."

"Well, he clearly doesn't!"

She squinted her eyes at him, feeling hat Jace was being just a tad too involved about this whole Henry situation for a friend who didn't know the man to begin with. She felt that Henry and Jace did more than fight, and whatever Henry had said, with his venomous words, it had managed to make its way into Jace's brain.

"What did he tell you?"

"Forget it," He dismissed, looking down on her nightwear, a small smirk spreading his lips. "I won't lie, it's always a pleasant sight to see you in your nighties."

She rolled her eyes, perfectly aware of how much Jace enjoyed seeing her in her sateen pyjamas. But she didn't let him distract her from her line of questioning, even with his wandering hand caressing the smooth fabric on her smaller back.

"Jace ... I know Henry. He has a way with words. Trust me, you'll feel better once you will get it off your chest. I already told you that I was an open ear if you wanted to rant."

He shook his head, closing his eyes as he leaned his back against the chair, "There is nothing to say, Clary. He is just a stupid ex-boyfriend of yours. I'm just wondering if I should expect to bump into more assholes of his kind."

She let go of his hand, having finished with it, and simply waited for Jace to talk and tell her what Henry could have said that was bothering him. Though Jace was a rather closed off person, she could tell that there was something bugging him. It wasn't much that she could read it on his face, but more that he had been annoyed to see her waiting for him when she knew that this never would have bothered him without Henry. Or maybe it was because, after three years of being with the man, she knew how easily he could insert doubt in someone's mind, though she highly doubted that he was doing it consciously.

Finally, Jace sighed, reopening his eyes as his hands were still enjoying the smoothness of her nightgown, and he shrugged as he said,

"He just was being the typical ex-boyfriend. He called you a bunch of names that I will not repeat to you, and he also warned me that I should dump you before you start spreading your legs for someone else. And ... I might have antagonised afterwards by telling him that he never should have let yo go in the first place.

There was this whole rant during which he explained that you left him, not the other way around. And I might have retorted that it was for the better, especially when I get you on top of me, screaming how I'm the best fuck you ever had."

She rolled her eyes, hiding her surprise that Jace had figured Henry so fast. Henry had always been a proud man, who liked to claim his masculinity every way he could, and by implying that he wasn't as good as him in bed, Jace had wounded his ego where it would hurt the most.

Still, she was very conscious that, at this moment, she was on top of him, in a revealing outfit that could so easily slip out of her. And yet, she didn't feel any embarrassment about it. She was just here, helping a friend out after he went and defended her honour. Even in the way he was holding her, Jace didn't make her feel like he was expecting anything more than what he was getting at this moment.

Sure, this had been the most intimate they have been since Vegas, but she couldn't feel the sexual tension that had been in the City of Sins. She just felt comfortable, even as Jace intensely looked at her as he confessed,

"I enjoyed beating him up. Don't expect me to feel sorry for what I did, I would do it all over again. No man should ever treat a woman he way he has treated you."

She gave him a small smile, slightly shaking her head, "You shouldn't get all worked up for such nonsense. I don't care anymore."

"Stop being so cavalier about people treating you badly. and I care. Because it impacts me! It impacts us. He's the reason you ... have trust issues. He's the reason why I always have to fight to get you to speak to me."

She looked down, not liking hearing the truth behind his words. No matter how much she tried, Henry still affected her life nowadays. He was the reason why she didn't really mind being in this contract with Jace, because it meant, that as long as she was 'with him', she didn't have to put herself out there. As long as the contract stood, she knew she wouldn't get her heart broken.

But, as Jace had pointed out, it still made her more wary of people, even if they never would be her love interests. Instead of taking her relationship with Henry as a life lesson, she shut down the world and built walls around herself so no one could enter without her say so.

She leaned forward, feeling bad. Jace had always been open and honest with her, never hesitating of calling her out when he thought she was being too closed off, and she kept being stubborn and keeping everything to herself. Though, if she had to be fair, she had always been more of a listener rather than a talker.

"I'm sorry," She whispered, kissing his cheek, and Jace's arms automatically held her closer so they could hug.

He buried his nose in her hair, and for a moment, none of them said a word, just appreciating this small moment that they were sharing. It was only when Clary realised how sweet that moment could be interpreted and she cleared her throat, that Jace broke their embrace, though he reached for her hair, and said,

"Here you go again, smelling good, and all."

She shook her head, getting up and retaking possess of her cool and dignity as she smoothed down her nightgown.

"You're just throwing compliments so I keep on making you lasagnas every now and then"

"Well, you can't blame a guy for trying."

.~°~. .~°~. .~°~.

The next morning, despite the early hour, Jace and Clary had heir breakfast together in the room. In fact, Jace didn't really like having his breakfast out, though he changed one thing from when she used to do the room-service for him. He asked for breakfast to be left on a tray by the door. Clary wasn't sure why he did so, because she didn't mind either way.

As Jace dipped his croissant in his coffee, Clary briefly disappeared in the bathroom, before coming back with her make bad. He rose an eyebrow at her, his smirk back on his lips.

"Don't you usually wait after breakfast to put your makeup on?"

"It's not for me. It's for you."

"Haha. I'm not a woman, Clary. Or do I have to prove it to you in a more eloquent way than the obvious fact that I have a dick and no boobs?"

She rolled her eyes, expecting as much coming from him. She never thought that Jace had a problem with men who wore makeup, as long as that man wasn't him. Of course, she could explain that, all the way until the late 1800s, men wore makeup just as much, if not more, than women, but she didn't feel like giving a lecture today.

"Your PR will thank me."

"I don't give a fuck of Roger's thanks, and neither should you."

"Jace ..." She said with patience, removing her foundation and primer from the bag.

"I told you, Clary. I'm not a woman."

"No. You're just a caveman who got in a stupid fight. Now, do you want the whole wide world to know that?"

He clenched his jaw, unable to pierce through her logic, and she grinned as she started making his bruise disappear. She was slightly annoyed that the colour didn't perfectly match because she was so much paler than Jace, to begin with, but as she kept on blending and blending, playing with the anti-cern and the foundation, she finally got something that she liked.

"See? This is why you need a wife in the future. so, next time you decide to act stupid and get in a brawl, she can make it look like it never happened."

He finally looked at her, his resentment about getting makeup gone, replaced by an emotion that she couldn't understand nor describe, "Why do you keep trying to set me up with someone when I'm here, with you."

"I just don't want you to be alone when will end the contract." She needed to prepare the two of them of that inevitable truth. The contract was not meant to last, and she knew that, at some point, she would need to start dating again.

Still, she brightly smiled, as she did her best to lighten the mood, "Remember what I told you, a pretty blonde wife will give you cute babies."

Once again, he clenched his jaw, glaring at her this time, and he said with a voice that was not allowing any debate, "And I told you before, I have no intention of getting a blonde wife. Just drop it!"

She didn't say anything, taking her makeup bag back to the bathroom before she came back to finish her breakfast. Though she knew for a fact that the hotel did not have pecan pastries, every time she had stayed with him, there had been some for her, and she deeply appreciated this little gesture that Jace had for her. He never made a big deal out of it (not like Henry would have), so she never did either, but it was those small little things that always put warnings in her heart. Those small little gestures that told her that she could easily fall in love with him if she wasn't careful.

"I'll go find Henry after work," She said, clearing her throat. "Just to make sure he doesn't blow things out of proportions."

"That would be unnecessary." She looked at him, not understanding what he was saying, and after briefly glancing at her, Jace got up and let her know as he put his scufflings on,

"I paid him off. At that moment, he should be on his way to Florida with his Mom, so he has no reason to come back here. He signed a contract where he is not allowed to contact me or you ever again."

"That's ridiculous, Jace. You didn't have to uproot hi—"

"I don't care what you think about this, Clary. He came to me, but he just beat me to it. I already had my mind on dealing with that piece of shit. And I'll be damned if I let someone talk about you the way he did!"

She got up as well, quickly wiping her mouth with a napkin before she told him with a gentle smile, "Stop being so worked up about me. It's not your place."

Then, she kissed him on the cheek and went to the bathroom to finish getting ready for her day at work.

.~°~. .~°~. .~°~.

A few days later, Clary still had no news from Henry, which she took as good news, and the proof that whatever contract Jace had signed with him worked, though she was pretty sure that the money had helped as well. Henry was someone who liked money, especially when he didn't have to work for it.

In fact, she didn't really care what happened to him. As long as he was happy with his life and leaving her alone, she didn't care. So she kept living her little life, staying in this routine of staying over at Jace's when he was in town and working for Valentine during the week.

And as much as she appreciated her evenings with Jace, the highlights of her days were the time she spent with Valentine. She was learning so much from him, and there was never a time when he was annoyed of her asking a question, and probing his mind for more information.

In fact, there had been more than one occasion where Valentine would invite her for dinner so they could keep on talking until Jocelyn would put her foot down and remind them that they needed to do some vital things such as eating and sleeping.

She always spent her lunches with Valentine, asking specifications about a case he was working on, or how he managed to find a loophole in a particular law. But when Jocelyn joined them for lunch once a week, the two of them have learned to keep their conversation rather open so she could still participate.

And this was how Clary ended up having lunch on a Friday with the Morgensterns, eating at some Italian restaurant as Valentine would not stop praising her for her work on his most recent case. She had always been a passive observer, but this time, she took the initiative of giving her input, and Valentine would not stop talking about it, saying that might as well have done the case on her own.

Jocelyn smiled in a condescending way to her husband as he found yet another to compliment the young girl, and she leaned to whisper to Clary, "I've never seen him so excited for any of our kid. If you're not careful, you'll find adoption papers with your next pay."

The two women laughed, and Valentine straightened himself as he called his wife out, "Hey! I heard that! I am just saying, it is nice to have someone who knows what they're doing."

"Of course, dear. But stop making such a big deal out of it, or Clary will feel the pressure to excel every time."

"Clary is a perfectionist, to begin with. Whether I praise her or not, she'll do her best to excel."

All Clary could do was smile, though she had no idea that the Morgensterns had read her so easily. Just as Jocelyn pointed out, all this praise was putting pressure on her not to ever fail in front of Valentine. But just as Valentine said, she was a perfectionist, and she would have tried to excel anyways.

Jocelyn reached for her hand over the table and squeezed it with sympathy, her benevolent smile subtle telling her to not worry and keep being herself, and just as the waiter brought them their tiramisus, Valentine announced,

"In fact, Clary, I wanted to talk to you about something regarding your future plans."

"Yes?"

"It is all still hypothetical. But I have a contact working for Amnesty who owes me a favour. If you keep working so well, I can get you an internship there. Not now obviously. I still want you by my side over the next couple of years, or so. But as soon as I know you'll make me proud there, I could put on the word for you."

"I told you, Valentine, I want to work with children."

"I know. But I want to make you tough before you do. Working with familial issues is one of the hardest branches of this profession, and that's why I went for business. That's why most lawyers go for penal. It's hard to put yourself a barrier between the job and how you really feel about those cases. Some people lose themselves doing it.

I don't want you to be thrown to the sharks. I want your mental and your heart to be prepared. And Amnesty will help you with that. It would be at the headquarters, so all the way to London, but it will make you tough.

And when you come back, I can set you up with Quentin Beck."

For a moment, she said nothing, digesting the information. Quentin Beck was the biggest name there was when it came to familial law. She was assured to get a job that would pay her really well, and with the best of them all.

And as Valentine said, she knew it was bound to be hard to work in this branch of law. Maybe it was for the best if she went to London, and worked with Amnesty, for a little while, so she could be strong enough when she would come back.

And it would be perfect for her personally. If she had this deadline that she was leaving in two years, she knew she couldn't fall in love with Jace, now. She could stay with him for the two years to come, but after that, she would go on the other side of the globe, and it would give her the closure she would need.

.~°~. .~°~. .~°~.

‼️TRIGGER WARNING‼️

Do not read this part if you've recently experienced loss and just skip to the next one.

It was shortly after Halloween that chagrin struck Clary out of nowhere. Jace was abroad, sending pictures with little messages telling her that she should have come with him, and she was staying at her place, going to work every day in that routine that she now had; when Mary called her to let her know of the terrible news.

Ann had died in her sleep during the previous night. At first, Clary wasn't really sure how to react. It was the first time in her life that she was dealing with grief and she still wasn't sure how to feel about it. When Mary called, Clary had made a point on telling the old woman that she would be here for the funeral. Then, she told Valentine that she needed the Friday off for personal reasons, and when she went back home that Thursday night, she cried her heart out.

She wasn't sure why she cried, she had no affiliations with Ann, so she shouldn't be that affected. She had always thought that grief only really affected family, but it still affected her. She thought of all the things she would never get to do with her old friend anymore, and every time she tried to find a silver lining, she cried, even more, failing to do so.

In the morning, she took a cab to the airport, so she could spend the weekend with Mary and hoping that Ann's family wouldn't feel like she was intruding in the late woman's funeral. As the cab was driving her to JFK, she texted Magnus to let him know where she was going.

I'm going to LA for the weekend. Clary

I thought Jace was still in Paris. Did he come back early to whisk you away? 😉 Magnus

No. I'm going to Ann's funeral. I'll be back on Monday. Clary

Oh, Biscuit ... Are you okay? Magnus

I'm not sure. I just wasn't expecting it. She was so lively, I never saw her as an old lady. And poor Mary. She must be so shaken up. Ann was her best friend. I never knew death could hurt so much, and make you question yourself so much. Clary

I'm here for you, you know that, right? I just know that there is nothing to say. It is hard, and a part of life we'd like to never think about. But that's why we should always appreciate the good moments to the most. And that's why I am so grateful I get to appreciate most of those good moments with you. Magnus

Thanks. Just don't die now. I won't forgive you. Clary

Nah. I'm too selfish to do so. I plan on us dying together in a plane crash or something. Like that none of us suffers the loss of the other XD. Magnus

Well, given the fact that I'm about to board a plane, it's official, I hate you. Clary

Love you too. 😘 Magnus

This ought to put a sort of smile on Clary's face as she put her phone away. Magnus was right, as sad and hard as it was for her to say goodbye to her friend, it was part of life, and Clary was sure of one thing, Ann had a good life. She didn't seem to be one of those people full of regrets, on the contrary.

Mary picked her up at the airport with Ann's grandson, and he drove them back to her place as Mary had insisted for Clary to stay with her, categorically refusing for her to stay at the hotel. If she was honest with herself, Clary had to admit that she was surprised that Mary took the news so well. She was smiling and making jokes, even when it was only Clary and her left in her house.

"Oh, cheer up, Clary. When you'll get to be my age, you'll understand that death is just the next big adventure for you to do. Ann was just more impatient than me."

Clary nodded, not really seeing the permanence of death as an adventure, and as Mary added whiskey to her coffee, she knowingly smiled, "It always affects youth more than the old mummies like me. But Ann had the life she wanted, and it's all you can wish for in those moments. Plus, she got to meet her great-grandkids, and you can't really beat that feeling."

Clary tried to smile for Mary's sake, but it must have come out as a grimace, because the old lady wrapped her arms around her, and hugged her with love as she whispered in her ear, "If you want to cry sweetheart, cry. You don't have to hold your tears in front of me."

Clary leaned in the embrace but refused to cry. It wasn't her losing a best-friend of several decades, and if Mary was not crying, she felt that it would be inappropriate for her to do so.

The rest of the day went quietly, Clary staying in retreat as Mary was organising the funeral with Ann's family. She was impressed by how well she was handling things, especially since Ann's family was devastated. It was as Mary was letting Ann's eldest daughter know that she didn't mind holding the after-ceremony in her house, that Clary's phone rang with Jace's number.

She isolated herself in the bathroom and picked up to a cheery Jace,

"Things went smoother than planned. I shall be back tomorrow. How about we celebrate together, my newest acquisition?"

"Oh. congratulations. I'm glad for you, Jace." As soon as the words left her mouth, she wanted to bang her head against the wall. She could hear in her voice how hollow they were, and Jace didn't hesitate on pointing it out.

"Are you okay? You sound a bit off."

"Yeah, yeah. I'm just a bit distracted."

"Is Valentine working you more than he should?"

"No, no. he actually gave me the day off. I'm just ... I'm in L.A."

"Oh, you're visiting your friends. We can postpone the celebrations to Sunday. You should enjoy your time with your friends."

She quickly wiped the tear that escape her eyes and put the phone on mute for a second as she cleared her throat. But when she talked to Jace again, nothing in her voice could let him know that she was about to cry, "I'm here to say goodbye to Ann, Jace."

"Oh ... All my condolences."

She uselessly nodded, hating more and more that saying as she had heard it all day long, and it felt so empty. Strangely enough, old people who were from Ann's and Mary's generation didn't bother with those words. They usually just gave a hug, putting their sympathy in that simple human touch.

Jace cleared his throat, and let her know, "Forget about that dinner. I'll see you when you get back to New York."

After he hung up, Clary sat on the edge of the bathtub, and finally, let her tears fall once again. She didn't even hear the door open and Mary get in, but she still welcomed the friendly arms. Mary rocked her, back and forth, and when Clary's sobs finally calmed down, she said with a small smile,

"I told you to cry earlier, sweetheart. It's not good to cry on your own. I already shed my tears last night. Now, all I need to do is make sure that my friend is celebrated the right way. And that means making sure that all of her friends get to grief her the way they need to."

"I'm sorry Mary. I know she was your best friend and —"

"And you and I grief a different way. You are young, I doubt you've seen many people die. I am old and I have buried so many people that, now, I know I should celebrate more than grief."

Clary smiled, following Mary out of the bathroom, and the two of them spent the rest of the night talking about ann around hot cocoa. Mary showed her pictures of the two of them travelling the world, getting married, having children, trying all sorts of crazy things such as trapeze, or scuba-diving (which had been a scandalous idea for women at the time).

She also saw pictures of their late husbands, who were twins, and Clary did make a few innuendos about them because the men had definitely been hot. She saw how the two ladies had always been 'scandalous', thinking outside the box whether it was for their clothing, their makeup, or their hairdos.

She was seeing this whole life that Mary and Ann had, fighting for what they thought was right (sometimes showing their breast doing it). Mary showed her pictures of them burning their bras in New York, or walking with MLK in Selma, or screaming for peace with Vietnam in Washington.

Clary had to admit that she was also impressed by their husbands who were with them every set of the way, showing their support, or being as scandalised as they were. She had expected men from this era to be less open to this sort of behaviour. And when she told Mary of her surprise, Mary knowingly nodded,

"Ann first husband was one of those. Things had to go a certain way, and people had to have their places. He wasn't a bad man per se, he was just born fifty years too late. For instance, he thought a woman's place was in the kitchen just like a man had to provide for his family. He never opposed to ann working, but he always refused for her to pay for anything that had to do with the household.

They tried to make it work, despite their different point-of-views, because they had this spark. But in the end, they divorced, and she kept Elaine, their kid. Then she married Wilfried who has had his eyes on her for a while but was just waiting for her to be a free woman before making his move, and my best friend became my sister by marriage."

"That's beautiful. What happened to Ann's first husband?"

"He dies in the Vietnam war. He had put a lot of money into stocks, and Wilfried was really clever about it. Of course, all the money was for Elaine, and they never tried to take it from her, but Wilfried made that kid a millionaire by always investing in the right things at the right time. Now, she's doing the same."

"Did he ... I know it was a different period. Did he mind that —"

"No," Mary cut her off, knowing where Clary was going. "He always treated her as his firstborn. In fact, he always spoilt her a bit more than the others, even though parents aren't supposed to have favourites."

Clary smiled as she kept on looking at the different pictures, and she frowned as she recognised herself in one of them. She was at a dinner table with the two ladies, the three of them laughing out loud at whatever might have been said before. She racked her head, trying to remember when that picture had been taken, but she couldn't remember.

She picked it up, and turned it, one to read from a familiar handwriting,

I'm sure you'd appreciate this picture more in your possession than in some sleazy tabloids. And whatever our doing, keep it at. Best smile I've seen on her.

She turned to look at Mary who was smugly smiling at her as she took the picture from her hands and explained,

"Remember when we bumped into Jace and you in Seattle. Well, apparently she photograph took a picture of us that night when Jace was in the bathroom. My best guess is that he bought the picture and sent it to us, which I deeply appreciate. He is right, your smile is radiant on this picture. Do you remember what we were talking about ..."

.~°~. .~°~. .~°~.

As the cab was driving Clary back to Jace's hotel, she looked through the window, doing her best to ignore that weird feeling that her last encounter with Ann's daughter had been.

"I'm so sorry I didn't get to spend more time with you. But we will definitely meet again," Elaine said, her hands holding Clary's as if they were family. Clary politely nodded, not sure of what to say.

"Mom spoke so often about you, and it is so sad we got to meet in those circumstances. I know she was planning on inviting you and your friend for Christmas, and the offer still stands. We will get to know each other well then. And I'm sure Mary would love having you around for Christmas as well."

"Huh," Was all she could say, though she felt she ought to find more words.

Elaine benevolently smiled to her, before she suddenly recalled something,

"I forgot! Mom said that she added you on her will. I think she wanted to give you the grand piano because none of her kids or grandkids is interested in music. She said you played the guitar, so you could interest your future kids in another instrument.

The will will be opened this Friday. I'll contact you by then to let you know, so how we can deal with that piano issue. I assume that you don't have much place in New York. We'll figure something out. And you'll get to see your kids play like mini-Mozarts."

Clary smiled, and though she didn't say it, she could clearly see Ann in her daughter, the same fire was breathing in Elaine.

She still felt weirded out at the idea of inheriting anything, but Elaine didn't seem to think ill of the idea. And as long as the will hadn't been opened, it was all speculations, so she decided to think about it at some other time.

Now, she was on her way to Jace's because she knew he was in New York. In fact, Mary had told her earlier that Jace had called to pay for the flowers, and given the number of flowers that had been used for the ceremony, it was a generous contribution. Ann had always loved flowers, and her family had spared no expenses to give her what she loved, even in death.

Still, a part of Clary was slightly annoyed, because she knew that Jace had been free, but he didn't bother to come. He came back to the US earlier than planned, that meant he had nothing planned, but he felt that sending a check was more respectful than coming himself and say goodbye.

She tried not to dwell on it too much, after all, she knew Jace, and he had warned her time and time again that his business always came first. This was just him proving his words right, and helping her not to fall for him.

So when she got to his hotel room shortly after midnight, she tiptoed her way to her room since all the lights were out, and she tried to find sleep. When it became obvious that she had too much on her mind, and she needed something to numb it, she went to the living room, and switched on the TV, putting it at the minimum volume as she switched from channel to channel, trying to find something interesting.

An hour after she found a rerun of the original Charmed, Jace popped in, in nothing but his pyjama bottoms. He scratched his head, slightly yawning as he told her,

"I didn't hear you come back. Are you okay?"

"I just couldn't sleep. I hope I didn't wake you up."

"No. I was thirsty."

They looked at one another, and he cleared his throat before going to the kitchen. When she heard him walk back, she turned her head again, and said, "You could watch with me. I'm sure one of the sisters was your childhood crush growing up."

"Though I never liked Phoebe, Alyssa Milano was just ..."

His facial expression was enough to let her know what he thought of the actress's body. She raised her blanket, and Jace sat by her side, putting his arm around her and getting comfortable under the blanket.

"How about you? Who gave you wet dreams?"

"At first it was Cole. I mean, that bad boy aura he had, perfectly mixed with that tormented soul. But then, Chris arrived, and that's when I realised that sandwiches are better with two slices of bread."

"Tsk. Have you ever? Had a threesome?"

"No. It's just a fantasy. I don't think I'd like so much attention from two men at the same time. And ... I like to give as much as I like to receive. I can't split myself in two to give two heads at the same time. And men are often scared of that option of a threesome anyway."

"Haha. You've put a lot of thought into that."

She grinned, though she did not return his question. She knew how jealous he could get, and she highly doubted that he was the sort of man who liked to share his partner. He almost threw a fit when his own brother saw her with her hair down, so she was sure that Jace would never allow another man into his bed.

.~°~. .~°~. .~°~.

I just found out that our meeting place has been changed. So, I won't need you by my side tonight. Enjoy your evening. See you later. x. Jace

"Argh!" Clary growled, annoyed at Jace for sending this message just after she had gotten all dolled up for him and his business dinner, and now, she looked good for nothing. She was about to take off her clothes when Magnus exited her,

Hey, what are you doing tonight? I need your pretty face! Magnus

Nothing, I've just been stood up. Why? Clary

Jace, always working. Tsk. To be fair, I'm doing the same tonight. I'm trying to poach a bartender from a particular club. He's been recommended to me several times, and I need a good bartender. I'm tired of Alice and her half-assed mojitos. Magnus

Nice. I'll come with you. Though you don't need me to convince me. I'm sure the pay alone should work. If not, match what he already has, plus 5%. Clary

I know I pay better. But men find it more difficult to say no to a good offer to a woman, than a man. Magnus

Haha. Shall I get the girls out, then XD? Clary

Nope! I don't want any problem with your 'boyfriend'. I think you should actually wear a turtle neck. XD Magnus

Clary shook her head but still made sure that she looked good before joining Magnus at the address he had sent her. What she didn't expect was to find him standing in front of a strip club. She walked to her friend, half-laughing, half shaking her head as she told him,

"I thought you didn't want any problems with Jace."

"Hence the me telling you to wear a turtleneck. Advise that you clearly disregarded."

"To be fair, I'm not sure if Jace even knows that strip clubs are still a thing. He is so ... Jace."

Magnus laughed, swinging his arm on her shoulders and keeping her close. In all honesty, she had never been against strip clubs, and in fact, she shouldn't understand why some women were. She enjoyed looking at well-built men, and she thought that men should be allowed to do the same. And she always felt that for many strippers, it was a form of empowerment.

Sure there was always that clichés, that was often true, of the girl who got trapped in this world and was almost doing it against her will. But she had met many strippers who actually enjoyed the life they had. She just had never been braved or daring enough to put herself out there.

The bartender, Sergio, was a good-looking man with that foreign accent that could make a girl blush and that panache about mixing cocktails worthy of a James Bond movie. It took Magnus an hour and a bump in the salary to talk him into working for him, and Clary assured Magnus that the women of his bar-restaurant would thank him for that.

"Too bad I'm already with someone. Because I'm pretty sure he doesn't play in your league, Biscuit."

"I'm pretty sure he's actually just like you, swinging both ways to get the best of both worlds."

"In that case, I hope he didn't think we were making a move on him. I don't want a law-suit on my ass for an imaginary threesome with you."

They laughed, gulping down their tequila Slammer and talking about Karl's move with Magnus. She briefly considered texting Jace, to let him know that she was at a strip club, but decided that she was going to tell him when she would see him later, not wanting him to freak out and call her every two seconds.

Magnus was telling her all about how he was not looking forward to spending Thanksgiving with Karl's family because they were still not open about the idea of Karl being gay when he bumped her arm and pointed behind him were Jace was ordering a drink.

Magnus looked at her with big eyes, silently asking her if she knew he was coming here for his business dinner, and she shook her head. still, she wasn't bothered by it. She knew that many business deals were made in such places, and now, she felt that Jace simply thought that she would mind, which was why he cancelled on her. Or maybe men usually didn't bring their girlfriends and wives when they sealed deals in those places.

Jace heaved, hanging his head low as he said with a tired voice, "Go back to Steve, Charlotte."

There was a blonde standing next to him, and as much as she didn't like using that term to describe another woman, that Charlotte girl was a bimbo. Her girls were all out (though, given the place where they were, they seemed covered), she was wearing far too much makeup, and far too much fake tan, and Clary was pretty sure that she had work done.

Still, despite the fact that she looked like plastic, she was pretty. And Clary could see what some men could find in her. Especially since she knew what to say to make a man want her,

"I don't want to go to Steve. I want to stay with you. I could stay with you, all night."

Jace rolled his eyes, taking the glass of whiskey and pressing it against his forehead as if he was hoping to get rid of a migraine.

"In case you've been living under a rock, I'm in a committed relationship. I'm not like you, Charlotte. I don't play games."

"Maybe you should. Maybe we should. She's not here, and I don't see any ring," Charlotte said, getting closer to Jace so her body would be pressed giants him; and Clary had to give it to him, he was patient. If it had been her, she would have slapped the girl long ago. But then again, society made it that she could get away slapping someone much easier than he could.

"Don't make me be rude to you. You're going to cry and ruin your makeup," Jace warned, clenching his jaw as he took a step away from her, and Clary decided that she should finally jump in. After all, she was the knight in shining armour supposed to chase the snakes away.

"Hi, babe. Sorry, I'm late, Magnus took forever to get ready. Did you order my whiskey?" She said, kissing his cheek and snaking her arm on his as she deadpanned that Charlotte girl.

Jace smiled at her, hiding his surprise, and looked around before waving at Magnus. Charlotte looked at their closeness, but when Jace kissed clears temple, squeezing her butt, she understood and left. Magnus joined them as Jace asked with an annoyed tone,

"What are you doing here?"

"Helping my friend get a new bartender. Which has been quite a success might I add. What about you? Did you really think I'd mind coming to a strip club?"

"No. I'd just rather you go home. In fact, let's go. I'm done here."

She rolled her eyes, glancing at her friend who shrugged, though she could tell that Jace's behaviour was just adding fuel to Magnus's fantasy. Jace walked them to one of the private rooms, though he asked them to wait by the door. As soon as the door was closed, Magnus asked,

"Do you think he was doing drugs in there? He looks like he's been caught doing something naughty."

"I doubt Jace and you have the same definition of naughty."

The two of them snickered, regaining their calm when the door was brusquely opened and Charlotte was kissing some guy, leading him to the bathroom. Magnus and Clary watched them fade away, and he commented with sass,

"I hope he has a coat because she smells like diseases."

She chuckled and looked back at the door that had been left open. And that's when her world stopped, and all colours left her face. Inside that private room filled with important business, was a stripper dancing in her high heels on the central table. And though she hadn't seen her in years, she knew that this stripper was Izzy.

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.~°~. .~°~. .~°~.

💚Your thoughts and opinions are always welcomed💚

Mini-cliffy ... haha.

💚 I'm always curious about your favourite part, and what you think will happen next, so let me know.

💚 Cassandra Clare owns the names of the characters from the Mortal Instruments franchise, everything else is mine.

Love, Mina💚💚💚