Coffee, Sex and Law

by Avril Rose

  In your store:

  Friends with Benefits : Lucy et Arthur - 1 (Season 2)

  Lucy pushed her friend Chloe into the arms of the handsome Alistair, but she was a long way from imagining that she would end up falling for Arthur, Alistair’s twin. Wilder and more rebellious than his brother, but equally good looking, Arthur has a magnetic charm and raw sex appeal that completely overwhelm the young girl. She had only planned to stay in New York for three days before going back to London... but these three days may well be the kind that change a life forever! Did you like Chloe and Alistair? Then you will love Lucy and Arthur, the heroes of the spin-off series to Eva Bennett’s successful saga! Friends with Benefits: Lucy and Arthur - volume 1 of 3 *** Eva Mary Bennett was born in 1989 in New York. Her English mother is an opera singer and her American father was a rocker in his day. After excelling in communication and literary studies, she became a freelance journalist and works for a range of celebrity magazines. After the success of her series Friends with Benefits, this is her spin-off series, Friends with Benefits: Lucy and Arthur.

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  Embrace - At the Billionaire’s Command (The Complete Series)

  Mature content. Recommended for 17+ due to mature language and adult situations.

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  In your store:

  Entice Me! - Obsessed with a Billionaire (The Complete Series)

  Mature content. Recommended for 17+ due to mature language and adult situations.

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  In your store:

  Caught - Dominated by a Billionaire - The Complete Series

  Mature content. Recommended for 17+ due to mature language and adult situations.

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  In your store:

  Lust - Under the Billionaire's Control (The Complete Series)

  Mature content. Recommended for 17+ due to mature language and adult situations.

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  Avril Rose

  Coffee, Sex and Law

  “The strongest love is the love that can demonstrate its fragility.”

  Paulo Coelho

  That strength, dear reader, is in you.

  1

  Liam

  “Good morning, sir! The usual?”

  “Yes, please,” I tell Zoe.

  “Coming right up!” she says enthusiastically.

  If I’m not traveling around France or abroad for work, I come here every morning to this mecca of coffee and tea: Temple Coffee. Nothing better to start my day. I’m always welcomed with a warm, attentive smile. I’m impressed by the memory of the waitress (Zoe, according to her apron), who always knows exactly how I take my coffee. Medium, black, no milk, no sugar, to go. Just like she knows the lady in front of me takes a double with a splash of milk and the older man next to her takes a macchiato.

  “There we go. No bagel today?” she asks with a knowing smile.

  “No, thanks. That’ll be it.”

  She takes the money I hold out.

  How is she always in a good mood?

  Is she this smiley at the end of the day?

  “Have an excellent day, sir!” she says, handing me my change.

  “Thanks, you too.”

  I always leave the coffee shop feeling more relaxed than when I went in, and full of energy. There’s something magical about it, timeless. My ritual continues as I taste the delicious beverage. I take advantage of the taxi ride to reply to a few emails and check my meetings for the day. It’s going to be just as busy as any other day. The pace has only gotten more intense since my dad finally decided to pull back a little. It only took a heart attack to convince him.

  ***

  “Liam! Over here!” Hugo calls out to me as I finally meet him at the restaurant for lunch.

  “Sorry, buddy, I’m late.”

  “No big deal. I ordered for you.”

  Hugo Delmotte, divorce lawyer and an incredible asset to the firm. Without a doubt, my best friend in Paris. Thirty-one years old and single. Just like me. Well, not exactly. He was married and now he’s divorced. And in a sick twist of irony, he basically got screwed. He only gets to see his five-year-old daughter Nora every other weekend.

  “So how was your romantic evening with Alice?” he asks.

  “Worse than expected. I ended up breaking it off. She's so boring.”

  “You say that about all the women you meet.”

  I nod with a resigned smirk. He’s right, I never even gave a chance to the last ten women I dated over the past six months. Sex. Nothing else. And a breakup before the third date. Don’t want to give anyone false hopes.

  My reputation as a seducer (or a prick who dumps women after getting them in bed, depending on your point of view), is no secret. That being said, I’ve always been honest about my intentions. My career is the center of my life. I’m young and brilliant, and I have immense responsibilities. I love my job. So for now, I have no desire to commit to a relationship. I can’t afford any distractions. I’m waiting for a rare gem.

  Well, that’s the official line at least, the one that common mortals find acceptable and that remains tangible. After all, a thirty-something guy who wants to enjoy life before settling down is rather commonplace. The unofficial version is much darker. So dark I force myself to let it rot in an isolated corner of my mind where it has been locked up tight for several years already, but it manages to escape every night.

  “You want to know something?” Hugo asks, suddenly bringing me back to reality. “The perfect woman, you know the one who is your best friend, mistress, and wife all in one? She doesn't exist! That’s right. So you can keep looking for your rare gem, but it will be a never-ending quest.”

  Since his divorce, I’ve heard this tirade on women about thirty times already. He keeps going despite my amused expression.

  “Damn it, Liam, women... They’re so manipulative. They pretend they’re sympathetic, sizzling-hot party animals. But once you fall in love with one of them, BAM! Party's over!”

  “You should change fields. It's not good for you to see so many couples tear each other apart every day,” I say, teasing him.

  “Let’s talk about that. One out of every two marriages ends in divorce in Paris. That’s half!” he insists, accentuating each word as he hits his index finger against the table.

  “So you can see how I might want to enjoy the bachelor lifestyle as much as possible,” I point out, smiling slyly. “And honestly, you should do the same.”

  “Yeah, easy for you to say. May I remind you, I don’t have the body of a Hollywood star like you...”

  “Oh come on, don’t give me that. We both know what the real problem is,” I reply kindly.

  The problem is his ex. He can’t seem to move on. And it’s not helping his lack of confidence and his resentment.

  “Touché,” he grunts.

  “It’ll get easier, Hugo.”

  “How?”

  “With time.”

  “What do you know? You’ve never had your heart broken! Have you ever even loved a woman?” he teases.

  “Touché, and then some,” I say lightheartedly as the waiter sets down our plates in front of us.

  "No, seriously, Liam. Do you know what it's like to love someone more than anything? More than yourself? To make their happiness your priority? To know everything about them, from what they eat for breakfast to their childhood traumas? Their fears and hopes?”

  So there you go. That’s Hugo. With him, simple lunch break conversations can take completely unexpected turns. While we only talked about work yesterday, today’s lunch is full o
f intimate confessions.

  “I’ve never known that kind of love,” I concede. “Not yet.”

  “When 'that kind of love' ends, it’s hell, Liam. Since Pauline and I split up, I’ve lost my bearings. You don't realize all the little day-to-day details that make up your life. From one day to the next, they're all gone. With such... brutality. If you only knew everything I miss.”

  “What, for example?” I ask, interested.

  “Strangely, it’s the things that bothered me the most, like her way of coming into the bathroom to brush her teeth while I was shaving or peeing, when she had plenty of time to do it afterward. Or nagging me about how I hung the towel on the rack... or how she tried to tell me important things when I was upstairs and couldn't hear her. Now, it’s all so... silent. Not to mention Nora, who I hardly ever see. I miss her laugh, and her tantrums too.”

  Emotion starts to creep over him as he talks. It’s always like that when he talks about his daughter.

  “Come on, Hugo. I know I know nothing about it, but I promise it will get better. Olivia went through the same thing as you, and now she's happy and in love.”

  “I’m seriously starting to wonder if this mysterious best friend who exiled herself to New York actually exists. In all the time that I’ve known you, I’ve still never met her.”

  “First of all, that's because she lives in New York. And second of all, she's not in exile. She found happiness there and is doing better than ever with her son and the love of her life. And her career has taken off. And yet, I promise you, just a year ago, she was saying the same things you’re saying now.”

  "I hope you're right. And that I'll manage to climb out of this pit of despair relatively quickly. In any case, before you get to meet your 'rare gem'. Because that might take years,” he jokes.

  “Who knows? I might meet her tomorrow. Life is unpredictable.”

  “And what do you think she looks like?”

  “I have no idea. But I imagine she's feisty and a breath of fresh air. With a natural kind of beauty. And a strong personality.”

  “So basically, the complete opposite of the women you usually meet.”

  I think about Hugo’s comment for a few seconds. He's right. The women I usually go out with are very sophisticated and systematically agree with whatever I say.

  Manon, for example, the one right before Alice: she was incredibly beautiful and cultured. But she was too polished and had zero personality. After two dates I was so sick of hearing: “I totally agree with you!” or "Whatever you want!” or “You decide!”

  The best was when she assured me that, like me, she LOOOVED shellfish. As we were eating, her eyes started to swell shut and her lovely skin progressively mutated into a horrible case of the hives. I wondered why she didn’t just ask if we could eat somewhere else. Then she doubled over with abdominal cramps, apologizing profusely for the gurgling noises emanating from her usually graceful figure. I took her to the emergency room so she could get treatment for her allergic reaction, and I learned that she was entirely aware of her allergy! And that's how my last date with Manon ended. Along with our very short-lived relationship.

  ***

  Lying on my back, my arms crossed behind my neck, I stare at the ceiling, trying to concentrate on my breathing. A relaxation technique that’s supposed to help you fall asleep. How long have I been lying here with my eyes open? No clue. But what I do know is that I’ve had to shake my head a few times already to try and chase away the dark memories that were starting to bubble up to the surface.

  When they come up again, I turn over onto my side to look at the time on my alarm clock. Three in the morning. Damn insomnia.

  The image of Colin creeps in again. No matter how hard I fight it, it always gains ground in my tired brain.

  I sigh loudly, giving voice to my exhaustion. This is how I prepare myself for my unavoidable waking nightmare.

  The angelic face of Cassandra appears in the place of my brother's.

  And then it's too late. I can’t fight these bits and pieces of a tragedy that comes to life every single night. So I let them win. It's the price of guilt.

  I see my older brother: a brilliant, happy, and accomplished man with all the qualities you could ever dream of, surrounded by my proud parents. The four of us were so close. So in tune with one another. Until he met the beautiful Cassandra, who seduced all of us, especially me. She was the beginning of the end. The end that no one saw coming. Only the letter he left helped us understand what couldn't be understood or suspected. It showed us the true face of that apparently innocent beauty. A pathological narcissist. A manipulator to the core.

  My brother’s shadow is now floating around my dark room. Despite the tension I feel, betrayed by my heavy breathing, frown, and tight jaw, I finally fall asleep thinking of him, my brother who died from falling love.

  2

  Zoe

  "Hey! Hi, Lisa! To what do I owe the pleasure of this early morning visit?” I ask my best friend when she surprises me by showing up at the coffee shop as soon as it opens.

  “Hi! I have a favor to ask,” she says hesitantly. “Do you have a minute?”

  "Of course! Victor? Could you cover for me?”

  “Right in the middle of the morning rush? No, it’s fine, take your time,” he retorts coolly.

  As soon as my back is turned, I roll my eyes at my coworker’s moodiness.

  I wipe my hands on my apron, stained with coffee as usual, and point to a table where we can sit.

  “So, what’s up? How can I help?”

  “I have my first appointment with my lawyer in two weeks. Could you come with me?” she asks in a rush.

  I’m speechless, surprised by her request. I don't see how it would do any good to have me there.

  She interrupts my thoughts by adding:

  “Look, I can’t sleep since Benjamin left. Even when I have full possession of my faculties, I don’t understand lawyer-speak. And right now I’m so exhausted, I’m just afraid it could go horribly wrong. I just know I'm going to be completely lost with all the legal divorce jargon. But if you were there to help...?” she explains, begging as she presses her hands together in prayer.

  “You know I hate this kind of thing. I really don’t think I’m the best person to help you out here. Chloe can’t come?”

  “No, she’s out of town for work that week. Please...”

  “Don’t give me that sad puppy dog look, Lisa!”

  She intensifies the begging expression on her face.

  “Alright, alright. I’ll get someone to take my shift,” I say, giving in.

  “Thank you, Zoe, you’re the best!” she says, getting up to hug me.

  “Now now, that’s quite enough of that. You better invite me to lunch after the torture session,” I threaten, smiling.

  “Obviously!” she replies. “So, what’s been up with you? Have you seen Mister 00S again?”

  Mister 00S is the nickname we gave to one of the café customers. “00” in reference to James Bond. “S” for Seductive, Sexy, and Smiling. Mister black coffee, no milk, no sugar.

  I give all my regulars a nickname.

  00S is my favorite. A walking fantasy in a perfectly cut designer suit. I wonder what he does for a living and where he runs off to after he leaves the coffee shop. I love watching him walk through the door, his face serious and uninviting, and then seeing him leave with a glimmer in his eyes. I like to think I may have something to do with his change of mood. That's what I like about this job. I make a point to remember all my customers and build a specific relationship with them, focusing on their little habits. It’s so important to know that someone is paying attention to you and your preferences. I’m convinced it is the key to why people come back and remain loyal customers.

  “Yeah, he was back yesterday,” I say.

  “And?”

  “Just as gorgeous as ever...”<
br />
  “And?”

  “And nothing! That's it. He ordered and he left, like every other time.”

  “When are you going to get up the nerve to talk to him?”

  “Lisa, we already talked about that! The answer is: never! That guy is not for me and I’m not the girl for him. He may be extremely charming, but I’d bet my life he’s a real arrogant bastard and as self-centered as they come.”

  “How can you be so quick to judge?”

  “Because it’s glaringly obvious! He’s not and will never be anything more than Mister 00S, whom I drool over for a couple minutes every day. It’s what normal people call 'a fantasy...' ” I explain, laughing.

  “Alright, alright,” she concedes. “It’s just that I could really do with a romance, even if it’s vicariously.”

  She pauses for a moment.

  “As long as it isn't just fear holding you back.”

  “Fear? Fear of what?”

  “How long have you been single?” she teases.

  “I don't see the connection!” I laugh, more surprised than insulted.

  Lisa is the manager of a fashion boutique. She’s a small, bubbly, voluptuous character with a caustic sense of humor and charming freckles.

  Well, at least that’s how she was before. Before she caught Benjamin, her first and only love, in their bed with another woman after eleven years together. Today, Lisa’s face is looking tired, and her eyes don’t have their usual mischievous glint.

  It’s been going on for two months now. She’s been torturing herself trying to understand how he could have brought his coworker to their house and cheated on her under their roof, in their bed. Having passed through the shock and anger stages, she’s now in the trickier phase: the one where she misses Benjamin and finds excuses for him, punishing herself.

  When it’s bad, we set authorized blue timeouts for each other. We started when my dad died. She gave me eight months. For Benjamin, I’ve given her three. It’s not long, but it will be enough. She’s so much stronger than she thinks.