by Bay, Louise
“Yeah, when I get the chance. My kitchen in my last place in New York was too tiny to do anything other than open a can of soup, but the one here is just incredible. I could spend days in that place without sleeping.”
“Is that cold macaroni?” I asked, poking into one of the containers. “It’s my favorite food.”
“Really? I’m surprised it’s not venison or caviar.”
“This reminds me of boarding school, and anyway, you’re the one living in central Mayfair.” I dug my fork in and took a mouthful, straight out of my childhood.
“Yes, but that’s my sister’s sister-in-law’s place. I’m just a guest.”
“You’re not interested in money, are you?”
She paused, staring at the unopened plastic box on her lap. “After college I rejected anything that I’d previously wanted. So, it’s not that I’d wanted to make money before, but I’d wanted to be successful. You know, with the company, and it really looked like it was going to happen but then—” She snapped her fingers. “Just like that, it was taken away from me, and I realized how fragile our dreams were.”
“Fragile, but still worth having, right?”
She shrugged. “I don’t really think about it . . . or talk about it.”
“Because you’re just living in the moment,” I stated.
“What about you, how did you end up getting married?”
She was deflecting, but I would let her. I wanted her to feel comfortable asking me questions. She should know that I wouldn’t deliberately keep stuff from her. “I’d known Gabby a long time. Our parents were friends. We had a very casual thing. And then one evening, she pitched me on getting married.”
“Pitched you?”
“You know, told me how she thought we’d be a good couple and how she’d be a good wife and that being married could only help my career.” I couldn’t remember now when it had come up. It must have been a morning after I’d stayed at her place.
I glanced at Violet when she didn’t say anything. “What?”
“Sounds romantic,” she muttered.
“It was anything but—but that wasn’t what I was looking for.”
“And you said yes because?”
“What she was saying made sense. We both came from the same circles, knew the same people. She was an excellent hostess.”
“Christ, it sounds like you were hiring a car.” She took a bite of the barbequed chicken.
“I think she was looking at the kind of relationship her parents had—the kind mine had. It was a bargain, not a love match.” I was sure that many of my peers had similar arrangements.
“Who broke the deal?”
“I gave her less than she wanted.” That was the simplest way to explain it. Our expectations had been uneven.
“Because you’re so fixated on work?”
I nodded. “She wanted to start a family, but that was the last thing I wanted. I knew it wasn’t right between us, our relationship not strong enough to bring children into the world. I pulled away even more and eventually she’d had enough.”
“What was the sex like?”
I almost choked on my hot chocolate. “You didn’t just ask me that.”
She shrugged as if I was making a huge deal out of nothing. “Sex is an important indicator in a relationship.”
“It was fine.”
“Fine? Wow, there’s condemnation, right there.”
“I’m not condemning anything. I just don’t want to talk about it. How would you like it if I asked you about your sex life back in New York?”
She put her thumb in her mouth, her cheeks sinking around her finger. “It was sex—”
I lifted my hand to stop her but she continued.
“It wasn’t like it is with you,” she said defiantly.
A warmth in my stomach bloomed. Now I wanted her to keep talking and was irritated at myself for cutting her off.
“Here,” she said, reaching toward me and wiping her thumb across my bottom lip. “Sauce,” she said and popped her thumb in her mouth again.
Christ, she was mesmerizing. I grabbed her wrist and pulled her onto my lap. “What do I get for pudding?”
She pressed her hand against my chest. “What if someone from chambers sees?”
“I don’t care. Do you?”
“It’s okay for you—you’re earning chambers money. I’m expendable.”
I sighed dramatically. “Come on, Violet. Live in the moment. You’re so concerned about your career. Carpe diem.”
She laughed and tipped her head back, exposing her throat, her hair trailing over my arm. This was the best lunch I’d ever had in my life.
“Stop taking the piss out of me,” she said in her best British accent. She pressed her palms against my cheeks and kissed me. We could have been in the arctic and I wouldn’t have cared.
She was my own personal sun.
She pulled back, grabbed at my hand, and looked at my watch. “Shit, we gotta go.”
“Hey, let’s stay just a little longer.” My hour was almost up, but I wasn’t ready to leave yet.
She jumped off my knee. “No way. I don’t want you turning into a pumpkin.”
“It can wait,” I said, pulling at her arm.
She twisted away. “Seriously, get up.” She started packing up the uneaten food and folding the blankets. “I want you to agree the next time I ask you to lunch, but you won’t if I say it’s going to be an hour and it turns out to be two. I want to carpe another diem with you some other time.”
I groaned. “I wish you’d been my Latin teacher.”
“With your terrible manners, you would have been in line for a caning.”
“Promises, promises.”
“Help me take this to that entrance?” She pointed to the exit on the south side of the Fields.
“I’ll carry it back to chambers,” I said.
“I have a friendly cab driver who’s going to drop it off at home for me.”
“You’ve thought of everything. Who said you weren’t a planner?”
“I like my job, and I think I’m good at it. I don’t want people to think I’m getting special treatment because we’re . . . because I’m . . . you know.”
I spun her around and pressed my forehead against hers. “Because you’re my girlfriend?”
“Whatever.” She rolled her eyes.
I wasn’t sure if she wasn’t ready for the title, or if she was just embarrassed. I chuckled. “Because I’m your boyfriend?”
“Well, if you’re my boyfriend, you’ll help me get these things to the cab.”
There was nothing she could ask me to do that I’d say no to. For the first time ever in my life I wanted more from a woman. I wanted Violet to be my girlfriend. I wanted to be her boyfriend. I wanted to make her happy because that’s what she made me whenever I was with her.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Violet
I had a boyfriend.
Not only did I have a boyfriend but I was excited about it.
Normally, when men started referring to me as their girlfriend or started talking about plans three months out, it set off alarm bells. But when Alexander had said it last week in the park, I didn’t take it as a signal to run. It felt completely natural. I thought of him as my boyfriend. More, I wanted him to think of me as his girlfriend. I couldn’t remember ever feeling like that.
I slotted in the last files I had on my desk and finished taping up the cardboard box. The more recent the cases, the more paper they seemed to consume.
“How are you doing?” Jimmy asked as he strolled into the admin room.
“Good. Another five boxes to go off to archives.”
“Great job. Surely you can see carpet on the floor of Knightley’s office now?”
“Well, half a carpet anyway.”
“And he doesn’t mind?”
“I don’t give him a choice.”
Jimmy chuckled. “Well, whatever works. I don’t know how you’ve managed to get
away with it.”
“Fire with fire,” I said, passing him as I headed out. “And now I need more files.” I turned right up the corridor and knocked on Alexander’s door.
“Come in,” he yelled. He was so moody at work. We didn’t often see each other during the day. I wasn’t complaining. So many men were too needy, but finding time to be with Alexander was a challenge. I felt special if I got him for more than an hour before bed. Maybe it was a touch of masochist in me, but I liked the fact that he had other demands on his attention. He was busy being brilliant, and I was okay with that.
I shut the door behind me and Alexander looked up. He grinned, which was a good sign.
“Hello, handsome. I’m just going to collect some files. I’ll be two minutes.”
“Come over here.” He coaxed me over to his desk. “I could do with a break.”
“You working on your Bar Humbug case?” I hitched myself up onto his desk, settling next to his laptop. “With that name, it suits you perfectly.”
“Something like that. I think I’m going to have to bring in a junior earlier than I’d hoped.” He swiveled his chair around and smoothed his palm up the inside of my thigh.
“Why don’t you like working with other people? Because you’re a control freak?”
“You noticed?”
His hand slipped higher and I squeezed my legs together to stop him going any farther. “Knightley. We agreed—no fucking in the office.”
“I didn’t mean it,” he said, shifting me into the center of his desk.
“You don’t say things you don’t mean, remember?”
“You shouldn’t be so irresistible.”
“Speaking of irresistible, thank you for my gift this morning.” I’d arrived in the office this morning to find another shiny black box on my desk. Thank goodness I’d been the first one in because even without an audience, the underwear he’d bought me had made me blush.
“I’m not sure if that gift was for me or for you.”
“A joint gift, then.”
“Are you wearing them?” He lifted my skirt and took a peek before I smacked his hands away.
“You’ll have to wait. Can you come over tonight?” Alexander rarely stayed at my place. Most of the time he came in, we made out, and then he’d leave because he had to be up early or because he still had work to do.
He sighed. “I want to. I really do. I’ll have to see how things go, but I’ve carved out some time on Saturday afternoon because I have a late afternoon appointment with a real estate agent. We could have dinner after that?”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “A real estate agent?”
“The divorce got me thinking—I’ve been in that bloody hotel too long. It’s a much better long-term investment for me to buy something.”
“And because normal people don’t live in hotels for three years.” I poked him in the chest. “You’re not Lindsey Lohan, just saying.”
“Who?” he asked, grimacing.
I shook my head. “Never mind.” Chambers was full of eccentric characters, so I never knew what to expect, but popular culture wasn’t something that the barristers were typically up on—even the ones straight out of school. They all seemed to live in a world without celebrities, reality TV, or rap.
“So, dinner?”
“I’ll check my calendar.” Of course, I’d say yes, but he didn’t have to be so sure.
“You can come meet the agent with me if you like, although I’m sure you have better things to do.”
I looked at him, checking to see if I’d heard him correctly—we never made plans during the day at the weekend. “I totally want to do that.”
“Really?”
“What, poke about in strangers’ houses? Of course. I’ll do some research. No doubt you don’t have any clue about what market prices are.”
He chuckled. “You have that right.”
“Where do you want to live?”
“I like where I am—Mayfair.”
“On it.” I slid off his desk. “I’ll just get a few files and leave you in peace.” I headed toward the current pile I was working on dismantling, passing the now clear desk in the corner.
I turned back to Alexander, who had his head buried in his laptop. “You know, if you let a junior sit at that desk, you could stay on top of their work more easily, listen in to their phone calls—train them exactly the way you want them to work.”
“I don’t share my office, Violet,” he mumbled at the screen.
“Everyone wins in that situation—you’re less stressed and have more time. Which means more sexy underwear. More nights I can keep you awake.”
He looked up at me. “Tempting as that might be, I need silence to work.”
“But Lance has told you that if you’re going to progress, you have to work better with juniors, and Craig has told me that if we’re to implement this new document management system, I need to find cost savings. This desk in your office is worth about fifty grand a year.”
Why hadn’t I thought about it before? It was the perfect solution.
“I said no, Violet. Now I need to work.”
I picked up the files and headed out of his office. I turned as I opened the door. “Think about it.” He had to see how this made sense.
He rolled his eyes. “Get out!”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Alexander
I clicked on my inbox, and I could feel my pulse rate rise at the number of emails from instructing solicitors that I hadn’t even opened, let alone dealt with. I was too busy for house hunting this afternoon. If I had been going on my own to see the agent and hadn’t said that Violet could come, I would have canceled. Which was how I’d ended up living in a hotel for three years. There was never enough time to find a place to move into. But I wanted to spend the time with her. I was looking forward to her bright smile and warm body.
I was behind, even more so than usual, and Lance had spoken to me—again—to tell me I needed to work with a junior. In the last four nights, I’d had fifteen hours sleep and I was exhausted. I’d been thinking more and more that maybe Lance was right. And if I moved someone into my office temporarily then I could track what they were doing more easily. I was weakening against the arguments put forward by Lance and Violet.
Despite my workload, I’d seen Violet most evenings, although less than I would have liked. She was unsurprisingly undemanding of my time, but it only made me want to see her, touch her, hold her, breathe in that calming scent of India, get the easy perspective she had on the world.
It was the first time a woman had competed against work and stood a chance at winning. I looked at my watch. Even if I left now, I would be late, but Violet hadn’t called to tell me where to meet. Had she forgotten?
Fuck it. I’d just work twice as hard tomorrow. I threw on my coat and bolted out the door. As I sat down in the back of the cab, I called Violet.
“Hey, sexy,” she said.
“Look who’s talking. I’m on my way to the agent’s office, shall I pick you up?”
“No, that’s fine. I can walk. I’ll keep her talking if you’re late.”
“And you’re still on for dinner?” I asked.
“Why? Do you have to work? Because if you do, I’m going to sulk.”
Her words tugged at my chest. Sometimes I wondered if the reason she was so cool about everything was because she was indifferent. I was a selfish bastard who needed a woman who wanted me but didn’t make demands of my time. Just like how I needed a junior barrister to take some of the burden of this case, but I didn’t want to give up control. I wanted everything my own way. All the time.
I just didn’t know how to be any different.
“No, I’m still on for dinner. Where do you want to go?”
“I don’t care, nowhere fancy.”
I always wondered if her lack of funds was the reason she never wanted to go anywhere expensive. Was she worried I’d let her pick up the bill? It would never happen, but maybe it was
a concern. “What about Chinese? We could go to Hakkasan?”
“I’ve been in London a while now. You can’t pull that shit on me. I know that’s a super-fancy Chinese place.”
I chuckled. “Okay. You name the place.”
“I could cook. I make a mean mac and cheese.”
“I know that about you. Sounds good.” It felt good too—to have a woman want to cook for me, someone who wasn’t interested in going to the latest restaurants but just wanted to spend time with me. I peered out of the window and saw Violet huddled under an umbrella outside the real estate agent’s office. “I see you,” I said.
The cab pulled up next to her just as she snapped her head around; her eyes lit up when she saw me. God, it felt good to provoke that kind of reaction in a woman that clever, funny, and beautiful. I jumped out of the cab and cupped her face in my palm, pressing my lips to hers, breathing her in.
The cab honked and she jumped. I grinned against her mouth, then released her. I paid the impatient cabbie, grabbed Violet’s hand, and we made our way inside.
A smart woman, dressed in flat shoes and a navy-blue suit, introduced herself to us as Martha and we took our seats opposite her at a table by the window.
“So, Mr. Knightley, what exactly are you looking for?”
I really should have given this more thought than I had. It felt like such a big deal just to be contemplating moving from the hotel—I’d let myself off the hook from considering the details. “A place to live,” I responded, unhelpfully. It was about as far as my attention had reached in relation to house hunting.
“Good. And what sort of place are you looking for?”
“A place around here.” I liked the area, that much I knew.
“I see. And your budget?”
“It will depend on the place.”
Violet squeezed my hand. “How many bedrooms?” she asked.
“Two plus a study.”
The agent nodded. “At the top end of the specification for a three bedroom, we’re talking around the ten to twelve million mark.”
I’d looked at a couple of places when I’d left Gabby, but prices had gone up in the time since. I should have bought three years ago, but I hadn’t been ready to commit to anything more than my work.
