by Jenny Frame
But maybe it was time to distract herself again. After all, she would be finished with Claudia’s divorce case after today’s meeting, and she wouldn’t be breaking her golden rule. But that wasn’t what she really wanted for herself, not any more.
“Good to see you too, Lady Osbourne.” Trent escorted her to the seat.
“I’ve told you before—call me Claudia.” She sat back and crossed her legs seductively.
“Drink?” Trent offered.
“I’m always ready for a drink, but”—Claudia took a cigarette case from her designer handbag—“it depends on whether we have anything to celebrate, darling.”
Trent grinned and took a bottle of Krug champagne from the fridge beside the drinks cabinet. “I think you’ll want to celebrate.” She took two champagne flutes from her cabinet and came over to sit on the desk.
Claudia put a cigarette to her lips. She was the kind of woman who expected a light to be forthcoming from whoever was around her.
Trent didn’t like cigarettes herself but kept a lighter on her desk for the odd cigar she enjoyed and offered to her clients. She lit the lighter, and Claudia touched the cigarette between her red lips, which matched her deep red nails, to the flame. She blew out a cloud of smoke.
“Thank you. Let’s pop that Krug before it gets warm, darling.”
“Of course.” Trent poured out the glasses and handed one to Claudia.
She took a sip and said, “Hmm, a very good year.”
Trent sat on the edge of the desk beside her and smiled. “I only give the best, Lady Osbourne.”
Claudia ran a teasing fingernail down Trent’s thigh, lighting a need inside her. “I’m quite sure. Now tell me what my dear husband has agreed to.”
Trent pulled a file from the other side of the desk. “See for yourself.”
Claudia gazed at the file and her eyes lit up. “That’s more than you thought you could get, Trent. Ten million?”
Trent grinned, feeling the buzz of the win against Lord Osbourne’s lawyer. “Let’s just say that your stepchildren were worried about their inheritance. He doesn’t have too many years left, and I suggested what we would be entitled to if he…passed on while still married. The ancestral home, et cetera.”
“You are a genius. What about the house in Mayfair?”
Trent raised her glass and took a sip. “You’ve got the whole bag of tricks—plus you get five hundred thousand a year for the length of your life.”
Claudia stood up and leaned in close to her lips. “Darling, you are a treasure.” Then she kissed her softly before saying, “I’m having a divorce party tonight. Will you come?”
Like a predator, Claudia had been hunting her down since their first meeting. Trent hadn’t been actively pursued by an older woman before—normally she did the chasing. Although she was flattered, she felt slightly uncomfortable at the relentlessness of the pursuit. She thought about her invitation from Becca, the hurt that still lived somewhere inside her. This was what she needed to banish the lonely feeling that was growing with each passing day. Maybe she should just go to the party for an hour or so.
“I’ll be there, Lady Claudia.”
* * *
Wendy Darling looked up at the dark London sky as she rode in the taxi she’d gotten at the airport. She hoped the grey skies weren’t an omen for the future. She hadn’t been back to London for five years, but nothing seemed to be different.
The taxi driver looked in the mirror and said, “Just back from a holiday, sweetheart?”
“No, I was working abroad for five years.” Wendy smiled.
“That’s a long time from home. Where did you work?”
“All over—France, America, Canada, and Australia as a nanny, and then I taught English in Tokyo, Shanghai, Seoul, and Mumbai.”
The taxi driver smiled. “You sound like a clever girl. I bet you’re glad to be back home.”
Home? Would it feel like home again? Wendy had left Britain, her bad memories, and a broken heart behind her, and she was frightened they would come back to haunt her now that she was back.
She’d thought long and hard about coming home. She didn’t have family drawing her home. Her mother and father couldn’t have cared less where she was, and her work history meant Wendy could have walked into any job abroad, but there had been a yearning to come home growing inside her for a year or more.
She wanted to finish what she’d started and not let any pain she had five years ago stop her.
“Yes, I’m ready for a new challenge,” Wendy said to the driver.
Five minutes later he pulled into the car park of a block of flats. She handed over the fare and got out. The driver helped her with her large rucksack, guitar case, and duty-free bags.
Her whole life was in these bags. Not too much to show for her twenty-six years. She never thought her life would turn out like this. All Wendy ever wanted was to be a teacher, have a stable home, and a family to love. Instead she had become a traveller, moving from job to job, and living a nomadic life.
Wendy put on her rucksack and carried her guitar case up to the small block of flats. Her friend Kira had offered her a bed until she got on her feet. They’d met at university and become the best of friends.
She buzzed her flat and said, “Ki, it’s me.”
Wendy heard a scream of excitement over the intercom. “You’re here! Get up here now, boho girl. I want to hug the life right out of you, sweetie.”
Wendy laughed. “I’m coming.”
Kira was one of the only friends Wendy had kept up with while she was travelling. They video-called each other at least once a week and shared all their news and problems. Kira called her boho girl because travelling through all the different countries had left her with a bohemian hipster style.
Wendy’s highlighted blond hair hung loose under a large brimmed hat, two braids hanging down at the side. The many leather and beaded bracelets adorning her wrists were picked up at local markets as she travelled from country to country. On her wrists, hands, and feet were henna tattoos in intricate patterns, a vestige of her latest travels through India before heading home.
She was in so many ways a different woman than had left London five years ago—she hoped she had lost the innocence and naivety that had led to her broken heart, and that she was a more confident, strong woman.
The thing was, despite how much she had pushed the old Wendy deep down into her soul, she was there—the girl who wanted a home, wanted someone to love her and to make a family with. The only problem with that was she didn’t think she would ever trust anyone again, not after Bailey’d destroyed her heart.
Wendy walked into the foyer area of the flats and was faced with two lifts. She looked down at her hands filled with bags and her guitar and felt weighed down by her backpack. She sighed. “Bloody lifts.”
She’d been uncomfortable in lifts since she was a little girl. She did what she could to avoid them, but if forced to by the height of a building she was visiting, she had a tried and tested method. Close her eyes, cover her ears, and hum. Fortunately this building didn’t have many floors, so she decided to climb them herself.
By this stage in her life, Wendy was well used to climbing stairs—a lot of stairs, but it was a daunting task. “Come on, Wendy.”
She climbed the stairs to Kira’s flat and finally arrived at her front door where her friend Kira was already waiting with her hands on her hips. “You still don’t like lifts?”
“Not especially, Ki,” Wendy said.
Kira had the biggest smile and opened her arms wide. “Come here, sweetie.”
Wendy dropped her bags and went into her friend’s arms. “It’s so good to see you, Ki.”
Kira stepped back and smiled, “You too.” She lifted Wendy’s arm and looked at her henna tattoos. “Dee, you look like you’ve just come from Glastonbury.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment. You look as beautiful as ever, Ki,” Wendy said.
Wendy wasn’t exaggeratin
g. She had always admired Kira’s beauty. Her warm brown skin and almond shaped, hazel eyes were gorgeous, and her petite figure and delicate bone structure only added to her beauty. All through university, Kira had never been short of a date, but like Wendy, she hadn’t found the one.
“Are you going to invite me in?” Wendy asked.
Kira lifted Wendy’s guitar case and said, “Come in and let’s get the kettle on. I’m sure you’ve missed good old British tea.”
Kira made the tea and brought it and some biscuits through to the living room. It was a comfortable small flat, with a tiny kitchen and two bedrooms, and handy for Kira’s job at the local school, where she was a teacher.
She handed Wendy a cup and flounced down on the sofa. “So, you’re back at last. I sometimes wondered if you ever would. You were only meant to be away for a year.”
Wendy took a sip of tea. “I was making really good money, more than I could here, so it made sense when I had debts to pay off. Besides, the lifestyle in America and Australia was so good.”
“So why now?” Kira asked.
Wendy pulled her feet up on the couch and sat cross-legged. “I’d made more than enough money to pay my debts”—Wendy looked down into her teacup—“and I felt like my heart had enough time to heal. Besides, I’m a lot stronger. It’s time to pick up where I left off.”
“I saw her, you know,” Kira said softly.
Wendy immediately felt that familiar knot of tension when her ex-fiancée’s name was mentioned. No matter how much stronger Wendy was now or how much she had matured, she didn’t think she’d ever lose that sense of panic that she had the day she found out her ex, Bailey, had left her.
“When did you see her?” Wendy asked.
“About four months ago. I was out at a club with one of the other teachers from school. I spotted her by the side of the bar. I wasn’t sure at first because the years haven’t treated her well. It looks like she has been drinking like a fish since she left you.”
Bailey had always liked to drink, any excuse really, and that was something Wendy had thought she could help her with. She’d been young and naive.
“Did she see you?” Wendy asked.
“Too right, she saw me. I marched right up to her and said, Where is my friend’s money?”
Wendy put her hand to her mouth. “You didn’t, did you?”
“I did,” Kira said. “You worked two jobs at night, after classes, to save up for your wedding to that piece of crap, and not only does she cheat on you, but she empties your bank account and runs. I’m not letting her off by just glaring at her across the dance floor.”
Wendy had worked hard for her money and was proud that she could save up the thousands it would cost for her dream wedding. Then in one day it was gone, and Bailey had destroyed all Wendy’s hard work—and her heart.
She tried not to think about that day, as it made her shudder, but most nights when she closed her eyes she ran the movie in her head. She thought five years and travelling the world would diminish the memory, the pain, the embarrassment and shame of being taken for a ride, but it hadn’t seemed to.
Wendy wasn’t going to let Kira know that, though. “Thank you for defending my honour, Ki, but it’s in the past. I’ve paid off my debts and I’m ready to restart my life where I left off.”
“Quite right, sweetie. I know why you left university, but teaching is in your blood. You were the best in our year,” Kira said.
Wendy gave an embarrassed smile. “I don’t know about that, but it’s time to take my life back, and that means finishing my teaching degree. Although I’m going to feel ancient compared to all those in my year. I never imagined I’d be a mature student.”
Kira laughed. “A sexy mature student. You’ll have the younger women running after you.”
Wendy rolled her eyes. “Hardly. Besides, I don’t think I’m going to be ready to go out with anybody, anytime soon—if ever.”
“I don’t believe that for a second,” Kira said. “I’m convinced that there is someone for everyone. You used to be a romantic like me, Dee. Don’t let that scumbag Bailey change what you are.”
Wendy put down her tea and sighed. “She did change me, Ki. That’s the problem. Things I used to love became less important. I let myself be overwhelmed with her personality, and the years I’ve spent away have been about getting the old Wendy back. I have in so many ways, but that last part—the romantic, giving faith and trust over to another person—I don’t think I ever will get that part of me back.”
Kira smiled and said, “Well, I’ll keep the faith for you. So, when does uni start?”
“Five months. I’ve got myself on the books of a nanny agency, so I should find work until then.”
“You can stay as long as you need—you know that. It’ll be like old times when we shared our uni flat together,” Kira said.
“I can’t wait.”
* * *
Trent walked up the steps to Lady Osbourne’s Mayfair mansion, a house that Trent had secured for Claudia by using her tough negotiating skills. Trent got a buzz from every win she got, and this divorce settlement was clearly a big win.
She straightened her tie and adjusted the gift box she was carrying—a celebratory bottle of champagne—then rang the doorbell.
The door was opened a few seconds later and she heard the sounds of loud music, laughter, and chatter, coming from inside the house. A grey-haired butler opened the door and said with a sneer, “Good evening, name please?”
Trent didn’t like the way he was looking at her. Usually those looks were because of her style. Some people couldn’t get over a masculine woman in a suit, but it was who she was, and had always been.
“Trent, to see Lady Claudia.”
Recognition spread across his face. “Ah, Ms. Trent. Do come in.”
She was led into the vast entrance hall. The floor was marble, and the walls were hung with museum-quality paintings, yet another win from her divorce deal.
The hall was full of people enjoying the party, which spread into the two rooms either side of the hall. There were half-dressed men and women standing with drinks and canapé trays, and one younger waitress approached her and offered her a drink. She took it and said, “Thank you,” while not taking her eyes off the bodies on display.
Trent’s lustful thoughts were interrupted by a loud feminine voice. “Darling, you made it.”
She turned around and saw Lady Osbourne approach her in a gorgeous tight-fitting black cocktail dress. Her body’s reaction told her it was too long since she’d had sex.
“Lady Osbourne, thank you for inviting me.” Trent handed her the gift box. “A little something to mark your divorce day.”
“You know it’s Claudia, darling, and thank you for the gift. It’s sweet of you.” Claudia handed her butler the box and said, “Put this somewhere safe, James.” Then Claudia took her hand and pulled her into the throng of the party. “Everyone, this is Trent, my brilliant divorce lawyer. If it wasn’t for Trent, then there would be no divorce party here tonight. Three cheers for Trent. Hip, hip, hooray.”
Trent was highly embarrassed at being the centre of attention all of a sudden. Most of the partygoers were women, but there were a few men dotted about here and there. They lifted their glasses and joined in with the cheers.
“Claudia, you’re making me blush,” Trent said.
Claudia laughed and said, “Oh, I do hope so. Come, let me show you around the house you won for me.”
Claudia took her hand and led her through the throng of the party and up the grand staircase. When they reached the top of the stairs they saw a couple disappear into one of the bedrooms.
Claudia leaned in to her and said in a low voice, “Looks like they have gotten started early.”
Trent was hit with a memory of doing exactly the same thing with Becca Harper when they were first getting together. She gulped hard trying to banish the emotion of the memory. Becca had understood her past and her emotional issues,
and Trent trusted her like she hadn’t anyone else in her life, before or since. If only she had been ready for the family that Becca wanted.
Now when she pictured Becca, Dale was always standing beside her. As much as she had come to like and admire Dale, it still hurt to know Becca was not hers any more.
The scent of Claudia’s perfume brought her back to the present. Claudia was someone to lose herself in.
She trailed her fingers down Trent’s tie and lingered on her belt buckle. “Why not start with my bedroom?”
Claudia grinned and took her hand and pulled her down the hall. She followed like a lamb, not a word that would normally be used as a description of her. She was a ruthless divorce lawyer, confident, dominant, but now she was nursing a broken heart. So for the first time in her life she was susceptible to being led.
Claudia opened a door. “Come in, dear Trent.”
To Trent’s surprise the bedroom was really old-fashioned looking. The walls and carpet were drab, and the room was decorated in dark wood furniture, including a four-poster bed that looked like it had come directly from an ancient castle.
Claudia must have noticed the way in which she was looking around because she said, “Please don’t judge me, darling. This was my husband’s room.”
“You slept in separate bedrooms?” Trent said.
Claudia began to slip Trent’s jacket off.
“Oh yes, I encouraged it. He could barely raise a smile, far less anything else,” Claudia said while undoing Trent’s tie. “He’s sending a removal company to pick up his dusty old furniture.” Claudia began to give her jaw little teasing kisses.
There were warning bells going off inside her mind. This wasn’t a good idea. “Claudia…” Trent started.
But Claudia turned around and said, “Unzip me.”
Trent unzipped her dress slowly and revealed the sexiest black lingerie with stockings and suspenders. Trent’s excitement started to mute those warning bells. She loved stockings and garters and she didn’t often sleep with a woman who wore them.
