by Carrie Elks
Lachlan smiled. Grant wasn’t used to him being so impulsive. But really, flying to Scotland made sense. It wasn’t just about taking the fight to his brother, but also about seeing that land in the Highlands. Reminding himself exactly what it was he was fighting for.
And if he had to see Lucy Shakespeare again… well he could handle that, too, couldn’t he? She was his attorney and she had a boyfriend. That was all he needed to know.
‘Yes, I’m sure. Find me a flight to Edinburgh,’ he said, the smile still curling his lips. ‘And let Miss Shakespeare’s assistant know I’ll be arriving next week.’
There it was. The game was on, in more ways than one.
11
Pray, do not mock me. I am a very
foolish fond old man
– King Lear
‘Are you okay? You keep checking your watch.’ Cesca was sitting in the chair opposite Lucy’s, with their father between them. It was lunchtime in the Wickstead Care Home – a well-regimented affair that allowed the patients – or guests, as they insisted on calling them – to have some familiarity around them. The same menu every week, the same seat every day. Even the music, piped in through the speakers in the dining room, was repetitive.
‘Do you need help with that, Dad?’ Lucy asked, watching their father push his chicken around the plate. ‘Would you like me to cut it up?’
‘I’m not a child.’
Lucy swallowed, painting a smile on her face. ‘I know.’ She turned her attention on Cesca. ‘I’m fine. I was just wondering if my client had arrived at Heathrow yet. He’s flying in from New York.’
‘Surely you get the day off on Sundays,’ Cesca remarked. ‘You don’t have to meet him or anything do you?’
‘Oh no. He’ll be catching a connecting flight to Edinburgh.’
Cesca looked confused. ‘So why does it matter what time he arrives in Heathrow?’
‘It doesn’t.’ Lucy frowned. ‘I was just wondering, that’s all.’ She shook her head at herself. Even Cesca was noticing how weirdly she was behaving. It was all Lachlan MacLeish’s fault, with his deep blue eyes and dimpled smile, not to mention that voice that made her skin tingle every time they spoke.
Oh God, she needed to get a hold of herself. She didn’t have time to spend all weekend thinking about him. And now he was going to be in the same city as her – the same office as her, come to that – she needed to take control. It was just for a few days, after all.
She could handle that. She’d handled much worse.
Cesca narrowed her eyes. ‘Okay.’
‘I’ve finished. I think I’ll go back to my room.’ Their father pushed his plate away, the cutlery rattling against the china.
Lucy looked up from her own plate of food, only half-eaten in front of her. ‘Do you want me to come with you? Show you where to go?’
‘I know where to go.’ He was in one of those moods. ‘I’d like some peace and quiet, if it’s all the same to you.’ He stood and left before she could protest. What was the worst that could happen anyway? The whole home was built around people who chronically lost their way. The worst he could do was end up in somebody else’s bedroom. And as the nurse had reassured them, that happened a lot.
‘Moody old bastard,’ Cesca muttered.
‘Cess,’ Lucy said. ‘It’s not his fault.’
‘I know, but you’d think that the times he’s lucid he’d actually try to be nice, wouldn’t you? He’s done nothing but moan and criticise you all day. He even started being rude about Mum —’
‘What did he say?’ Lucy’s voice was terse.
‘Nothing. Just the usual rambles.’ Cesca shrugged. ‘You know what he’s like.’
‘He says a lot of stupid things,’ Lucy agreed, her chest feeling tight. ‘You should ignore them.’
‘I do. But when he has a go at you, I want to shake him. Doesn’t he know how much you’ve done for him? Bloody hell, you practically took over when Mum died. He just disappeared into his room all the time. It’s like he forgot he had four daughters to look after.’
Lucy pressed her fingers to her temple, rubbing the skin there. ‘Yeah, but we managed, didn’t we? And I know he’s annoying sometimes, but remember, there’ll come a time when he can’t talk any more. We’ll long for him to bitch at us then.’
Cesca’s eyes were glassy. She blinked them a couple of times. ‘You’re right,’ she said, her voice a whisper. ‘It’s so horrible, isn’t it? I don’t know how you’ve coped with it all this time. We owe you a lot, Luce.’
‘I’m your big sister. It’s what I do.’
‘You’re so much more. I just wish you’d let us look after you sometimes. You look worn out.’
‘I’m fine. I’ve just been working hard, that’s all. I’ve got this client flying in, and a big meeting on Tuesday afternoon, so I had to work late all last week.’ She didn’t mention that the client had been on her mind all weekend, too. Ever since her sister had fallen in love with Sam, she’d become a born-again romantic. And the last thing Lucy needed right now was a sermon.
‘And then you came down and helped Dad move into this place,’ Cesca gestured at the home. ‘You even gave up your weekend. Without a thank-you from him.’
‘I don’t do it for thanks.’
Cesca leaned forward. ‘Then why do you do it?’
‘Because we’re family. And we may be scattered all over the world, but we have blood tying us together. I do it because I love you. We were torn apart once before, and I won’t let it happen again. Not on my watch.’
‘You can’t control life.’ Cesca shook her head. ‘Look at me. I’ve ended up with the one man I hated. You think I planned for it? Life is messy, Luce. You just have to go with it.’
‘How is Sam, anyway?’ Lucy asked, diverting the conversation. ‘How’s the shooting going in Budapest?’
‘He’s tired, grumpy, overworked. But once this is wrapped we get a lovely long break,’ Cesca said.
‘And what are your plans after that?’ Lucy had long since given up hope that her sister would move back to the UK. Sam was riding way too high for that. Not to mention the fact that Cesca’s star was on the rise, too. Her play had had a successful run in the West End, and there were rumours of a Broadway production. Still, Cesca did her best to visit whenever she had a chance.
Cesca bit down a smile. ‘I can’t really talk about that yet.’
Lucy raised her eyebrows. ‘Why not? Don’t tell me Sam’s going to be the next James Bond.’
Cesca laughed. ‘Not likely. He’s only just got over being stereotyped as a lifeguard, I don’t think he’s planning on doing any other movie franchises soon.’ She looked down at her nails, that smile still playing on her lips. ‘It’s me that has to keep schtum. I’m in negotiations about a script.’
‘A playscript?’ Lucy asked her.
‘No, it’s a series. I’m in negotiations with a popular streaming service, but I can’t say much more.’
‘You signed an NDA?’ Lucy knew all about non-disclosure agreements. They seemed pretty common in LA – Kitty had asked for her advice about one, too.
‘Yeah.’ Cesca raised her eyebrows. ‘But hopefully I’ll be able to tell you more soon. Just as soon as we sign on the line.’
‘Wow.’ Lucy couldn’t hide her happiness for her sister. ‘That’s two of you taking Hollywood by storm, now. You and Kitty should team up. The Shakespeare Sisters Productions has a good ring to it.’
‘Sam said the same thing. Reckons we should make it a big family business. Though I suspect he just wants to get all the best roles.’
‘Maybe I should move over there,’ Lucy teased, ‘I could become an entertainment lawyer.’
‘I wish you would.’ The smile slipped off Cesca’s face. ‘I miss you when I’m over there. We all do. I hate thinking of you being left here with all the responsibility while the three of us live it up in the States.’
‘You’re not exactly living it up,’ Lucy pointed out. She opened her
mouth to point out that Juliet and Kitty weren’t either, but a crash from the kitchen drowned out her words. Somebody had pushed over the trolley of trays and dirty dishes, causing cutlery and crockery to fly out across the linoleum floor. A second later an army of nurses and orderlies came rushing in, some of them heading straight to the residents to make sure the calamity hadn’t caused them any anxiety, the others to clean up the mess.
‘I guess that’s our cue to leave,’ Cesca said, when the noise started to die down. ‘I’ll just head up and say goodbye to Dad, and then I’d best grab a cab to Heathrow. My flight leaves in a couple of hours.’
Lucy checked her watch. For a moment she imagined Cesca and Lachlan being in the same place at once. They could pass by each other and not even know they were connected through her.
She shook her head, trying to get rid of that silly thought. Of course they weren’t connected. He was only a client, after all.
The two of them walked out of the dining room and into the large, whitewashed corridor, heading to the heavy door that led to the residents’ bedrooms. The sound of their shoes hitting the tiled floor echoed through the hallway.
‘It feels weird, doesn’t it? Having no idea how long it’s going to take for Dad to get worse? Not really knowing what worse even means. It’s so scary.’
‘And if it’s frightening for us, imagine how he must feel,’ Lucy said, nodding. ‘That’s what I keep telling myself whenever he’s having a day like today. He must be so scared, not really understanding what’s going on, not knowing what day it is. Imagine looking at somebody you don’t know and being told you’re related to them. It’s impossible to put myself in his shoes.’
This time the tears forming in Cesca’s eyes rolled down her cheeks. ‘Poor Dad.’
‘And poor us. This whole thing sucks.’
‘It does,’ Cesca agreed. ‘But it would suck ten times more if it wasn’t for you.’ She squeezed Lucy’s hand. ‘Thank God we all have you to rely on. Our lighthouse in a crazy storm.’
A flame of warmth flickered in Lucy’s chest. She was doing okay. Life kept throwing curveballs, but somehow she was keeping them all under control. The same way she’d keep Lachlan MacLeish under control, too, or at least her stupid reactions to him. She’d be cool, calm Lucy, and that was just the way she liked it.
Lucy reached the office steps at just after seven on Monday morning. She’d taken the late flight from London the previous evening, and then spent a couple of hours finishing her preparations for Tuesday’s meeting, aware that Lachlan MacLeish would be arriving at the office around nine. They’d spoken briefly about the big meeting with Lachlan’s half-brother and his solicitors, but Lucy knew they had a lot more work to do on it yet.
She walked into the reception. It was empty at this time of the morning – even the daytime receptionist hadn’t arrived yet. Instead, there was the night guard, his uniform wrinkled thanks to hours of sitting in the same position, his black peaked cap perched securely on his head.
‘Good morning, Miss Shakespeare.’
‘Hi, Mark.’ She came to a stop in front of the desk. ‘I have a visitor coming today. Can you make sure he’s booked in on the system?’
‘Sure, what’s his name?’
‘Lachlan MacLeish,’ a deep voice said from behind her. She felt a shiver snake down her spine, slithering its way from her neck to her tailbone. Why was it that every time she heard his voice he had this effect on her? Well, she wasn’t having it. As far as she was concerned those shivers could slither the hell out of town.
Taking a deep breath, she arranged her mouth into a smile, before she turned to look at him.
‘Hello, Lachlan, I wasn’t expecting you so early.’
He was wearing a navy single-breasted suit and a white shirt. A thin dark grey tie was perfectly knotted at his neck. He reached out for her hand, his jacket sleeves sliding up to reveal two simple gold cufflinks shining against his wrists.
‘I couldn’t sleep,’ he said, smiling at her. ‘Plus we might need a little bit more time. I want to talk about our strategy.’
Lucy’s smile didn’t waver, even though she was thinking of all that work she’d done last night. ‘Oh?’
‘Don’t look so worried. I just had a few thoughts while I was on the plane. We can talk about them later.’
‘I wasn’t worried.’ She met his gaze. ‘You’re the client, if you want to make some changes, then that’s what we’ll do.’ You see? She could be professional. Cool, calm, Lucy.
She stood and watched as Mark checked Lachlan in, taking his details and printing him out a visitor’s pass. Then the two of them headed for the doors that led into Robinson and Balfour’s offices, and Lucy slid her card into the reader to release the lock.
‘Why don’t I get you settled into an office?’ she suggested. ‘The visitors’ ones are over there.’ She pointed at the bank of glass doors that led to three small, yet perfectly outfitted rooms. ‘You can join our visitors’ network – the wifi code is on the back of your pass.’
‘Sounds good.’ Unlike most clients, he didn’t let her lead. Instead, he walked ahead, choosing the office on the right. ‘Is there anywhere I can get a coffee?’ he asked her. ‘Just in case the jet lag hits.’
She’d be willing to bet a thousand pounds that Lachlan MacLeish never suffered from jet lag. He looked way too fresh and composed for that. ‘I’ll have one brought in. Americano with room, right?’ Damn, was that too obvious? Or was it a simple courtesy to remember her clients’ drink preferences? She tried to remember how Mrs Dalgliesh – one of her favourite clients – took her tea, but she couldn’t for the life of her recall.
His gaze softened. ‘Yeah, that’s right.’
‘Okay then.’ She glanced at her watch, as much to drag her eyes away from his as anything else. ‘I have a few messages to respond to and some phone calls to make, so why don’t we meet in my office in half an hour?’
‘Can we make it an hour? I’ve got some emails to respond to myself.’
‘Of course. If you need anything in the meantime, let me know. I’m on extension three-four-two. And Lynn, my assistant, will be in soon.’
‘I’m sure I’ll be fine.’ He nodded. ‘But if I need you, I’ll definitely call.’
She’d been rereading this email for the last ten minutes, and it still hadn’t sunk in. Maybe it was something to do with the way she kept looking up through the glass of her office wall, and over to the visitors’ rooms. She could just about see him typing away, and making the occasional phone call. A couple of times he’d stood and paced as he talked, and his eyes had met hers from across the office.
Yes, she’d felt her heart gallop in her chest. And no, it didn’t mean a thing.
Sighing at herself, she closed her laptop up and headed to the toilets for a quick freshen-up. Lynn was already in there, standing at the wall of mirrors beside the sinks, touching up her matt pink lipstick.
‘How did your weekend go?’ she asked, dabbing the corner of her lip with a piece of tissue. ‘Is your dad okay?’
Lucy glanced at the stalls, but all the doors were open. Lynn was the only one in the office that knew about her father, and she preferred to keep it that way. ‘It wasn’t too bad. I think he kind of likes the company really, though he’d never admit it. Now there’s just the house to sort out, and we’re almost there.’
Lynn smiled sympathetically. ‘You did the right thing. But you must be exhausted. Mark said you were here with the larks this morning. Along with your client.’ Lynn raised an eyebrow. ‘Who is gorgeous, by the way. Why didn’t you tell me? I would have worn a nicer dress.’
‘Is he?’ Lucy said, running her hands under the cold tap and then putting them under the automatic soap dispenser. ‘I hadn’t really noticed.’
In the mirror she could see Lynn’s smile. ‘Then you’re blind. Every single woman has been craning their heads around his office to get a glimpse. And Anneka has taken him in at least three coffees.’
&nb
sp; Lucy stifled a groan. ‘Doesn’t she have anything better to do?’ Anneka was one of the interns, though she didn’t work in family or estate law. She’d obviously made a special trip across the building. ‘The poor guy will end up with caffeine poisoning.’
‘I’m pretty sure Anneka wants him to end up with something,’ Lynn said pointedly. ‘Though it’s not poisoning.’
‘Well, I hope she doesn’t make a fool of herself. It reflects badly on the firm.’
‘Ach, she’s a good intern,’ Lynn said. ‘And he’ll be gone tomorrow. Let her enjoy him while she can.’
Lucy sighed, sliding her hands under the dryer. ‘This is why I hate having visitors come in. It disrupts everything.’
