by Bay, Louise
As pudding was served, the emcee of the evening introduced himself and made a few less-than-funny jokes. Then he told us about the obligatory charity raffle and how we had to write our names on a twenty-pound note and put it in one of the gold envelopes that sat next to our centerpiece in the middle of the table.
I sighed and took out my wallet and pen from my inside jacket. I removed two twenty-pound notes and placed them flat on the table.
Violet’s bag was on her lap and she was rummaging through it. I placed my hand over hers. “I have yours,” I said.
She looked at me, her eyes a little wide. “I’m sure I have—”
“Violet, you don’t pay for your own raffle ticket. There are many things about the bar that are old-fashioned and sexist, but this is just manners. Look,” I said, nodding toward the other side of the table. “Lance is paying for Craig and Jimmy’s ticket. This is how it works.”
She sighed and closed her bag. “Thank you.”
“It’s just—”
“How it works. I know. I’m not taking it personally.”
It wasn’t personal, but for some reason I wished it could be. I’d like her to feel special, because she was special.
I pushed the purple notes into the envelope and passed it to my left. All around the table, everyone was talking, occupied and not looking at me or Violet. I ran my fingers over the knee exposed by the slit in her dress. “You look beautiful tonight.” What was I doing?
She sucked in a breath. “Alexander. We agreed.”
I nodded. We had, and it had been the right thing to do for a thousand reasons.
Still, I slid my fingers further up her leg. It was involuntary. I couldn’t help myself. There were all these reasons to stop but they were powerless against this urge I had, the desire she created in me.
Violet placed her hand over mine. “Alexander.”
“You don’t want this?” I asked, trying my best to look as if we were just swapping small talk. “You don’t feel this . . . energy between us?” Jesus, I sounded trite and pathetic. I’d just never felt this connection with a woman before, and having her this close to me was diluting all the reasons I had to keep away from her.
“I do. And that’s a problem.” She looked at me from under her lashes. “Let’s quit while we’re ahead.” She glanced around the room as if she were looking for an exit. “Excuse me, I have to go to the ladies’ room,” she said, my hand drifting from her leg as she stood.
I ate my pudding as I watched her weave in and out of tables before she met Jimmy coming toward her. They stopped and talked and she became more animated with him than she had been with me. Her smile was wide and a couple of times she threw her head back and laughed. Did she find him attractive? Was she flirting with him? No doubt he was flirting with her—he had a penis and from what I could tell was straight, and really, who the hell wouldn’t flirt with Violet King? She was gorgeous.
The hair at the back of my neck bristled. Jimmy needed to let her go or I’d fire him, punch him, or otherwise make a fool of myself.
Eventually he came back to the table and my urge to connect my fist with his chin subsided.
I needed to get myself under control. I was all over the place. I was letting my dick rule my head. Violet had been clear—whatever had happened between us wasn’t going to reoccur. It wasn’t as if I was going to sit next to her at an awards ceremony every week. We’d arranged things so I wouldn’t even have to see her in the office.
I stood, familiar self-control and discipline running through my veins. I rounded the table before stopping next to Lance. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to excuse myself. I’ve just had a call about an emergency injunction.”
Lance turned. “Of course. Good luck, my boy.”
“Thank you, Lance. See you in the morning.”
I made my way out of the ballroom, staring straight ahead, determined not to seek out one last glance of Violet King.
Violet
I’d had to excuse myself from the table. Alexander’s touch was like quicksand and I needed to escape before I gave in and he swallowed me up. I left the ladies’ room braver and headed back to the table. Ordinarily, I’d have been more than encouraging of a man as tall, brooding, and sexy as Alexander coming on to me, even if he was an arrogant asshole. I wasn’t in the habit of turning good sex down, but for the first time in my life a warning bell had gone off in my head when it came to Knightley, which was why I suggested we keep things professional. There were practical reasons around working with him, which meant it was a bad idea to continue our physical relationship, not least because I didn’t want to cause Darcy any embarrassment but more than that, something instinctive was telling me to keep away. I was enjoying being in London—focusing on myself and considering my future. I didn’t want anything to mess that up. And there was something in the way Knightley looked at me, touched me, in the way my body melted under his fingers, that told me he could be trouble. And I wouldn’t allow a man to make trouble for me. Not again.
Alexander wasn’t at the table. Had he come looking for me? I sat back down and twisted to face the stage as the emcee introduced the next category.
Fifteen minutes passed. Alexander hadn’t come back to the table and listening to a bunch of people I didn’t know win awards I didn’t care about wasn’t the most exciting thing I’d ever done. I wanted to fast forward to the Chambers of the Year category.
One of the other barristers who was sitting three seats down from me moved to Alexander’s chair. “So, Violet, we’ve not met. I’m Charlie.” There was a hint of camp to his voice, but I wasn’t convinced he was gay. It could’ve been a British thing.
“Nice to meet you, Charlie.”
“It’s an absolute pleasure. You look fantastic this evening. Elie Saab, is it?” he asked, staring down toward my cleavage.
Yes, definitely gay. A straight man wouldn’t know the designer.
“Isn’t it funny how whether we’re gay or straight, men just love beautiful women?” he asked.
I laughed. “I’m not sure I can comment.”
“Well, you are gorgeous,” he said, unashamedly fixated. He sighed. “I hear you’ve tamed our Mr. Knightley.”
Uncomfortable with his change in subject, I pursed my lips. I didn’t often feel uncomfortable, but I felt loyalty toward Knightley and I didn’t want Charlie to think I was going to sit here and bitch about him. At the same time, I didn’t want to look like the stupid girl with a crush by saying he was a joy to work with. “I’m trying to get his billing up-to-date.”
“And I hear you’re doing a fine job.” His eyes danced and he grinned at me as if he were up to no good. Was he insinuating something?
“I’m making progress. That’s my job.” I smiled tightly.
“I’m impressed. Many before you have tried and failed.”
I reached for my wine glass, hoping he might be reminded to drink rather than talk.
“You two seem to have a certain chemistry, may I say,” he continued.
I didn’t know how to respond. I had only ever been polite to Alexander in public. We hadn’t been flirting and no one would have seen his hand on my leg. I would hate for people to start talking and for it to get back to whoever Darcy’s contact was.
“If anyone ever convinces Alex to come to one of these events, he rarely says a word to any of us. He was positively chatty this evening.”
“Well, I imagine all that extra money I’m making him has cheered him up.”
Charlie guffawed. “I’m pretty sure he’s richer than the Queen. All that family money.”
“He’s from a wealthy family?” I asked. I would have guessed the opposite. I would have thought the way he worked, he’d known what it was like to have no money at all. More contradictions from him. Whenever I thought I had him pegged he surprised me again.
“Well, his dad was Alexander the Great,” he said, as if I should know who that was.
“I’m pretty sure you don’t mean the
ancient Greek king,” I responded.
Charlie laughed again. It was infectious and so loud that people at the next table glanced around. “No. But the greatest barrister ever to have been at the bar.” He paused. “So they say.”
“So he has a lot to live up to,” I said, half to myself. Was that why he was so driven?
“With that lineage he doesn’t have to try. All the judges love him because of his father. He gets away with murder in chambers—I mean, who else has a full-time assistant and his own office?”
Alexander was arrogant, yes, and moody and difficult, but I was surprised at the picture Charlie painted. Alexander wasn’t some kind of shirker who was riding his father’s coattails. He was the most hard-working person I’d ever come across. I admired his drive and his focus.
Before I got to ask Charlie more questions, the award we’d all be waiting for came around. Alexander was still nowhere to be seen. Where had he gone?
The nominees were read out and our table cheered at the mention of our chambers. The ballroom hushed as the gold envelope was opened. It was like the lawyer’s version of the Oscars.
Despite only working at chambers a few weeks, a weird sense of loyalty I’d never felt before rose in my body. I wanted us to win. There were some fantastic people working in chambers, even if some of them were a little eccentric. I liked the place.
When the name of our chambers was read out, I jumped up and began clapping just as Charlie did beside me. Where was Alexander? Surely, even he’d get a kick out of this. Someone should call him or something.
Lance and Craig made their way up to the stage to accept the award. Of course, everyone was far too British to give speeches, and after photographs, they came back to the table. We were all beaming and took our turns inspecting the acrylic, miniature glacier of an award marked Chambers of the Year.
As the evening wore down, and people began to grow restless, the winners of the raffle were announced. Charlie was whispering to me, telling me bits of gossip that were travelling around chambers.
“Violet!” Lance boomed across the table. “You won!”
“Congratulations,” said the young woman who approached me. “I really wanted this one.” She handed me an envelope and turned away.
I didn’t even know what I’d won.
“Charlie, you shouldn’t have been distracting her. She won the second prize,” Lance said. “We’re a table of winners here tonight.”
“Always,” Charlie said, raising his glass, then downed his drink and excused himself.
I turned the envelope around and flipped open the back. I never won anything. Even if it was a balloon and a party hat, I’d be delighted. I pulled out a thick white card with gold writing on it.
Fortescue Hall Hotel and Spa.
Holy crap. A spa break? There was no way I could accept this. Alexander had paid for my ticket. I had to give it to him. I glanced around, hoping I’d spot him somewhere so I could tell him, but all I saw was Jimmy coming toward me.
He sat down in the seat Knightley had started the evening in and Charlie had just left. It was like musical chairs.
“Congratulations,” he said.
“Thanks.” I pushed the card back in the envelope and slid it into my bag.
“So given this table is on a winning streak . . .” Jimmy said.
My heart sank. Like a juggernaut bearing down on me, I knew what was coming.
“I wanted to know if I could take you for a drink. Or dinner. Whatever you’d like.”
I took a breath before I responded. “A drink would be great—I don’t have many friends in London.” I emphasized the word friends.
“Friends?” he winced. “I’m not going to lie, I’m a little heartbroken.” He smiled, defeated, and I was relieved he’d clearly got the message. “But I’ll settle for friends.”
I nodded. “I’m glad. I’m not in London for long,” I said. “And I’m a way better friend than date.”
It wasn’t that I didn’t like Jimmy—I did. He was attractive, thoughtful, and good-natured. And had this been a month ago in New York, I would have said yes. But I didn’t have that urge to punch him in the face and kiss him at the same time. And after Knightley, anything less seemed like a compromise I shouldn’t have to make. Anyway, dating Jimmy, however casually, seemed a bit wrong when I’d fucked Knightley. I didn’t usually worry about shit like that, but there was something about what had passed between Knightley and me that deserved more. And if there was the slightest chance it might embarrass Alexander, I wouldn’t risk it.
He deserved more.
Chapter Fifteen
Alexander
I often got told I was in a bad mood when I wasn’t—I was simply focused or busy or both. But today there was no doubt that my mood was black. I stared at my laptop, though I wasn’t absorbing anything on screen. I couldn’t see through my rage.
I was angry at myself for making a pass at Violet last night. We’d both agreed to put a stop to whatever was between us. I wasn’t sure what had happened last night to make me double back. Of course she’d looked stunning. But that was hardly a surprise—she was a beautiful girl. Having her close had been a temptation. But I was always able to resist temptation. Why was I so fixated on her?
Seeing her with Jimmy had been the final straw. As much as I didn’t want anything from her, I couldn’t think about the fact that someone else might have her. I wasn’t sure that another man would appreciate her in the way that I did. She wasn’t just some administrator with a pretty face and a phenomenal body.
Nothing about my reaction to Violet King made sense, but I knew one thing for sure—I never liked feeling as if I was giving anyone else power over my actions. So last night I’d left. “Come in,” I barked at a knock on my office door. I clamped my jaw tight. I didn’t need any interruptions today.
In my peripheral vision, Violet slipped inside and closed the door. Fuck. Why couldn’t she stay away?
“You left last night,” she said, walking toward my desk.
I wasn’t interested in small talk. “What can I do for you, Violet?” I asked, turning to face her.
“I just came in to give you these.” She tossed some papers on my desk. “This arrived by courier and is marked private and confidential. I thought it might be urgent.”
“Thanks.”
She turned to leave.
“Wait. What’s this?” I asked, opening an additional envelope.
She stopped and glanced over her shoulder. “My raffle entry you paid for—it won. It’s a two-day spa break thing.” She shrugged. “Enjoy.”
“I don’t want it,” I said. “And anyway, you were the winner, not me.”
“But you paid for it, so I can’t accept it.”
I sighed. The woman was exasperating. “I explained to you how these things work. You take it.” I turned back to my computer, hoping she’d leave.
“I’m sorry if I pissed you off last night. I didn’t want you to leave.”
“I had an urgent matter to deal with, which wasn’t anything to do with you,” I lied.
“I just think it’s better, as we work together. It’s not that I don’t find you attractive,” she said.
I snapped my head around. “Violet, please. I don’t need your reassurance. You didn’t piss me off, and it is precisely conversations like these that I’m trying to avoid.” I ran my hands through my hair. “Let’s just get back to work, shall we?”
“So, you’re just in a normal, stick-up-your-ass, rude-to-everyone-not-Violet-in-particular kind of mood?”
I couldn’t help but grin as I shook my head at her insolence. “It looks that way.” I picked up the spa certificate and handed it to her. “Here, take this.”
She shook her head. “I can’t. It’s for two, and my only friend in England is in New York that weekend.”
I didn’t know much about Violet other than how she felt under my fingers, how she made my cock jerk whenever she was around. I’d assumed she had roots of sorts
here.
“Go on your own,” I said. “As Jean-Paul Sartre said, ‘Hell is other people’.”
She laughed and I couldn’t help but smile as her giggle took over her whole body. It didn’t matter if she was in a ball gown or a skirt and blouse, she was still beautiful.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d have attributed that quote to you. So, you go on your own,” she said.
“You won. And anyway, I rarely take an evening off, let alone a full weekend.”
“Jesus, do you ever just enjoy the moment?” she asked, raising her hands in the air and then taking the card from my hand.
I was enjoying this moment a little too much. “Close the door on your way out, please.” I sat back in my chair and turned to the screen. She needed to leave before my willpower faltered and I did something I knew I shouldn’t. I knew how soft her skin was, how wet I could get her pussy. She had to get out of here. “Just one more thing before you go.”
She glanced back over her shoulder and a memory of my hand up her skirt flashed into my mind. I swallowed it down. “It’s none of my business and you don’t need my permission, but if you were to date someone else in chambers, that wouldn’t be a problem from my perspective.”
“Someone else in chambers?” she asked, turning to face me again.
“You know, if you and Jimmy went out, whatever, that would be . . .” Fucking awful. For some reason, I felt some kind of ownership over Violet, but I wasn’t going to tell her that.
“Well, you’re right,” she said, placing a hand on her hip. “It isn’t any of your business, and I don’t need your permission.”
I turned back to my screen. I’d been trying to set her mind at rest, and convince myself that it really would be okay. I shouldn’t have said anything.
“But I’m not going to date Jimmy.” She cocked out her hip and tilted her head. “Ever.”
I tried to keep my breathing steady. I wanted her to finish her sentence. I wanted her to fill in the gaps I had in my mind about what had happened between them.
