Then.
Not in front of him. Never, ever in front of him.
“Hey, Jemma, are you even listening?” Nadine interrupted my musings.
“Yes, of course.” I smiled at her. I had absolutely no idea what she was saying to me.
“If I book Adams on the five past three return from New York, do you think he’ll be okay with that, or should I push it back?” She looked at me expectantly.
Thinking desperately as to when and why Mr Adams was going to New York, I got up and walked around to her desk. We talked through his options as she organised his travel arrangements for his meeting next week. Nadine and I were both personal assistants to the firm’s two main partners at Adams & Roberts, Attorneys at Law. They were exactly what it said on the tin: a firm of lawyers that specialised in family law. Nadine worked solely for Mr Adams. He was “old school” in a modern age, hence the reason he kept getting sent to seminars on equality and diversity. He still believed he could make settlements on the golf course and that girls were good to make the refreshments and make the office look pretty. To be fair, it was obvious he didn’t mean it in a sexist way; he wasn’t trying to be demeaning or patronising. It wasn’t his intent to be slanderous or a deviant. He was just an old-fashioned man in a politically correct world, failing badly.
I was PA for Richard Roberts, a much younger lawyer, who was the complete opposite of Mr Adams and, strangely, perfectly complemented him. He was one of the best people I had ever met. He loved his work, his staff and his family. His easy smile and good nature made our office one of the happiest working environments I had worked in. Tim used to mutter that, at twenty-nine, I was no more than a glorified secretary, and I had let it roll off me. I was happy, I liked my job, I liked my colleagues, my working week was Monday to Friday, and my weekends were my own. I was paid very well for the work that I did. What was there not to like?
Richard called me into his office around ten for a teleconference with one of his top clients. The teleconference took over an hour and was in-depth and rather heartbreaking.
“You’d be a terrible lawyer, Jemma,” Richard chuckled as he stood.
“I know.” My heart was still raw from what I had just heard.
“How are things otherwise?” He took a drink of water as he pretended not to watch me. Richard was average in height, still taller than me of course, but who wasn’t? He had dark hair which was already thinning on top. His navy pinstripe suit always appeared permanently creased, although I knew his wife, Karen, had his suits professionally dry-cleaned.
“I’m fine, Richard. Just like I was fine when you asked me on Friday, and on Wednesday and last Monday.”
“I only ask you on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays?” he asked me in surprise.
A small laugh escaped me as we left the meeting room. “Yes, I think you check to see how my weekend was, then check in mid-week, then check to see if I’m going to make it through the weekend.”
He scratched his ear. “Well, that’s just a pattern.” He nudged me as we walked back to his office. “I’ll ask tomorrow and Thursday this week. Mix it up.”
“But now I know you’re going to ask, and I will have time to prepare.” I tucked my hair behind my ear as I walked, still smiling.
“Of course, a lawyer always gives his client time to prepare.”
“Ah, I thought you were asking as a friend,” I murmured.
“That’s what I do Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Really, Jemma, you should pay attention.” He laughed as he went into his office, and I went back to my desk smiling.
Ten minutes later, Karen Roberts phoned me. “Jemma? Richard texted me and said he is failing miserably at being a friend and you need a woman to talk to. Why he doesn’t qualify for that, with the amount of MTV he and Lily watch, I don’t know, but you and I are going for lunch in, oh, twenty minutes?”
“Hi, Karen.” I was shaking my head as I tracked her husband through the office to Adams’s office. I received a half-hearted salute and a wink. “I’m not sure I can go out in twenty minutes.”
“Psht. My husband just told me you could. I know it’s early, Jemma, but Harry has an early appointment this afternoon, chop chop. See you in fifteen. Meet you at Lou’s. Tell my deadbeat husband he’s a loser.”
I laughed as she hung up. It was her standard goodbye. Nadine was watching me as I hung up the phone.
“You’re going out for lunch early?” she asked me idly as she glanced at the clock behind my head.
“Seems like it.” I shrugged as I fought back a smile, thinking about the complete transparency of my boss. “Richard’s just trying to help.” I shrugged again.
“I know.” Nadine smiled. “I wish my boss had a heart, although I’m not sure I could cope if he asked me how many times I got laid on Saturday.” She winked at me as I laughed at her impish grin. “But you, my dear friend, can ask me all about it when you come back from lunch.”
“Do I have to?” I was filling in calendar appointments when I was asking, but I knew she was rolling her eyes.
“Yes, you have to!” I ducked the pencil sharpener. “You need to ask me details of how many times, how many positions and more importantly, Jemma…how many.”
I looked up at her sharply. “How many? How many…partners?”
“Oh yeah, baby.”
“No.” I jumped up and grabbed my coat. “I’m never having this conversation. I’m going to lunch!” I picked up my purse and dashed away from her as Nadine cackled with laughter behind me.
I made my way in the rain to Lou’s. It was a semi chic eatery that did well at lunchtime, located not far from the office. The rain was still pelting down, and I noted with despair that it was turning colder. I ducked out of the way from an oncoming umbrella that was heading my way with intent from its owner and managed to narrowly avoid a puddle and splashback from a passing SUV. Jesus, lunch on a Monday was hazardous, I grumbled internally as I stepped aside for another oncoming umbrella. I’m five four, I’m not invisible, I shouted in my head. My third quick step of my journey had me colliding with orange high visibility clothing, and I bounced backward off of a solid chest. Large gloved hands grabbed and steadied me and then quickly moved me to the side of the busy sidewalk.
“I feel you need this clothing more than me.”
His warm voice made my toes curl. “Hi,” I offered lamely as I looked up at the guy from this morning.
He flashed a quick grin at me and then looked around us. “Where you trying to get to?” He quickly glanced at his watch.
“Just around the corner, to Lou’s,” I replied. “I seem to be invisible this morning.”
“You’re too quick to move for others. Knock into a few of the fuckers and they’ll soon move for you.” He grabbed my arm even as I winced at his crudeness of language. “Come on, let’s go. I don’t have time for this.”
His words irked me. I wasn’t helpless, and I most definitely wasn’t asking for his help. “I can manage fine by myself, thanks.” I tried to shrug out of his grip.
“Yeah, you demonstrated that well. C’mon.” He tugged me forward and then was marching me down the street, his long legs eating up the distance easily, while my shorter legs hurried to catch up.
“Dude, seriously, my arm needs to stay in my socket if I want to use it again,” I protested. I heard him mutter something unintelligible, but he didn’t slow. A few minutes later, I was outside Lou’s.
“You good?” He looked down at me, glancing at his watch yet again.
Seriously? Was he serious? I glared at him. He frowned at me. “You’re completely insufferable, aren’t you?” I snapped. His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “You cannot drag people around like a caveman. I didn’t need your help. I didn’t want your help, and I genuinely wish you hadn’t given me your help.”
“You’re welcome.” He let go of my arm, and shaking his head, walked back the way we came.
I stared after him in disbelief for a moment before I got pushed aside as someo
ne entered Lou’s without so much as an excuse me. Entering Lou’s, I spotted Karen immediately. As I made my way over, she rose to greet me as I took my wet coat off.
“Who’s the tall, dark and dreamy?” Karen asked me as she retook her seat. She automatically rocked the stroller that currently held Harry, the youngest Roberts child.
“Oh, a friend. He was walking the same way as me.” It was better to lie. Karen was like a dog with a bone at times. If I told her this morning’s encounter and then that I met him again, she would see something that wasn’t there and be on it like white on rice.
We exchanged pleasantries, and I enquired after the little ones. Karen and Richard had three boys, the oldest was seven and was the apple of his mother’s eye. The next one down was four, and then there was little Harry, ten months old and adorable. Richard had a daughter from his first marriage—Lily was fifteen and lived with them—she was her daddy’s princess and doted on her brothers. After we ordered our food, I was almost relaxed and thought I was merely going to have a pleasant lunch with a friend when the ex-lawyer pierced me with her courtroom stare and set her coffee cup down.
“Has he been in touch?” Karen picked imaginary lint off her sweater.
I looked out the window at the rain as it continued to fall heavily onto the busy streets of Denver. People continued to dash hurriedly through the puddles and dodge passing cars as they splashed the sidewalk. I felt slightly vindicated as I watched more than a few people get shoved forcefully out of the way.
“Jemma?” Karen’s sharp tone brought my attention back to her. “Has the scumbag of the century been back in touch?”
“A few times,” I told her. “He just wants the ring and some other things from the apartment.” I took a drink of my tea.
“You’re not giving him anything though? Richard’s told you not to give him anything, hasn’t he?” Karen leaned forward, intent on my answer.
“Yes, I am following orders to the letter.” I smiled. “Although, when he asked me for it, I didn’t want to give it to him. It was the shock, I think.” I looked out at the rain again. “But now, really, why am I holding on to it? I don’t want the stupid thing. I don’t want any of it.” I looked back at Karen.
“I know that, we both do.” She leaned forward and clasped my hand. “But if he wants it, then he has to pay for it. He wants the condo, you know this. So if he wants to sell it? He can buy you out. He wants the stuff inside it? He can pay the legal fees to get access.” She squeezed my hand. “Make the bastard pay, Jemma. He deserves to pay for a lot more, after what he did.”
I nodded and took another sip of tea. Our lunch arrived, and the conversation moved back to more pleasant things—the boys mostly. Karen had been a fierce divorce lawyer before her first pregnancy and had returned briefly to practice once Arthur had started pre-school, only to be pregnant not long after. Now her days were filled with playdates, soccer tournaments, PTA meetings and school projects. I don’t think she had ever been so happy. It was obvious she missed the courtroom, but I know she sometimes slipped into Richard’s casework at night and made a few notes for her husband.
We finished lunch, and I was reminded again not to go soft on her and to keep Richard appraised of all developments. Karen had a car waiting for her. It pulled up outside Lou’s when she was ready to leave, and she offered to take me back to the office. I declined, I was still damp, and I wanted to manoeuvre Denver’s streets to prove to myself that I wasn’t a hapless female.
I made it ten feet before a passing SUV drenched me from head to foot. I trudged back to the office, dripping wet, freezing and miserable.
“Holy shit, what happened?” Nadine asked me as she watched me walk back to my desk.
“SUVs and puddles,” I muttered through chattering teeth. A puddle was forming at my feet.
“I don’t think I have anything that would fit you.” Nadine was on her feet looking at me. “I can run to the next floor and ask if anyone has gym clothes or anything?” She didn’t wait for an answer but turned on her heel and left.
“Jesus, what did my wife do to you?” Richard looked at me as he came out of his office.
“You’re funny, bossman.” I was practically vibrating.
“No, seriously, what happened?” He looked around as he took his suit coat off. “Please tell me this wasn’t Karen.”
“Don’t be silly.” I wrapped his coat around me. It didn’t do much, but it was something. “Big stupid car that kills the environment.”
“I think you need to go home; I just don’t want to send you home like that,” Richard admitted.
“I just need to dry.” I was shaking more visibly now.
“Why the hell are you soaking wet?”
My eyes closed in disbelief. Maybe I was hallucinating? I opened one eye as I felt him towering over me.
“I said, why are you soaking wet?” Mr High Vis was glaring at me.
“SUV drenched me,” I supplied the answer.
He rolled his eyes. “Of course it did. Come on, up.” He held his hand out.
“Why are you on my floor?” I asked. I also didn’t move.
He wasn’t shy in waiting. “Construction site.” He jerked me to my feet. “Who’s her boss?” His eyes landed on Richard. “I’ll get her dry. She’ll be back in no time. I’ll talk to you when I’m back.”
For the second time that day, I was marched at high speed beside him. No one said a word. We got in the elevator, and he hit the floor above. “What are you doing?” I asked as the doors pinged open a minute later.
“You’re freezing, we need to get you out of those clothes, Jemma.” He didn’t look at me as the doors closed behind us. He shouted out a rapid-fire list of names, and several guys appeared from rooms. He surveyed them all. “I need sweaters, T-shirts… Where’s Danny? He’s the smallest guy we got. Find him, I need his pants.”
Within moments, I had a pile of clothes in front of me. High Vis turned to me and handed me the pile. A smaller man walked towards me and handed me a pair of jeans. They were shortish in leg length but very, very wide. High Vis looked at them and me, and his mouth twitched. He barked off an order for string or twine. With a push between my shoulder blades, he directed me into a room and closed the door behind us.
“Strip,” he commanded.
I froze despite having already kicked off my boots. “Absolutely not.”
“Don’t be a baby. I’m not looking. I’m sorting through this pile of clothes.” He was indeed sorting through the pile of clothes and separating items. He was also performing what looked like a sniff test. I turned away; if I didn’t know, I wouldn’t think about it. “You remembered my name?” I said as I unwrapped Richard’s jacket. My fingers were numb, and I was curiously trying to figure out if they were blue.
“It’s not every day you get told you look like a cover model.” His voice seemed to be closer.
I turned my head, and he was behind me. I froze again.
“Fingers giving you trouble?” As seemed to be his most annoying habit, he didn’t wait for an answer. He nudged my hands out of the way and unwrapped me from Richard’s coat.
“Um, I was managing,” I stuttered through chattering teeth.
“Yeah, the only thing you were managing was vibrating your way to hypothermia.” He started deftly unbuttoning my shirt.
“I’m not comfortable,” I objected weakly.
“Which is why I’m taking your clothes off you,” he answered glibly.
I shook my head. Given the situation, it was perfectly reasonable. However, it still didn’t detract from the fact that I was in a room, with a stranger, who was undressing me.
“No, I mean I don’t want you taking off my clothes,” I protested.
“Okay. I’ve noted your protest.” He untucked my shirt from my skirt, but his eyes never left mine. He deftly unzipped my skirt. He gave it a slight push downwards and then a tug, and it fell wetly down my thighs to pool at my feet. My thick knit tights were also sodden. He hook
ed his thumbs in the top of my winter tights and pulled, and my breath caught as he lowered his body to take them off my cold numb legs, his eyes never leaving mine. My breathing was becoming erratic. My shirt covered me, and although it was unbuttoned, it was still closed over my body. He stood swiftly and turned to hand me a T-shirt that looked several sizes too big. I hurriedly cast off my shirt and pulled on the T-shirt. It was cold, I was cold, but it was blessedly dry. Thank the lord, it was dry.
“Here.” His voice was gruff as he handed me a sweater. I pulled it on—it fell down to my knees. I started to laugh. He turned and looked at me, and his mouth twitched into a smile. Handing me the jeans, he turned again as I pulled them on. I rolled them up on the legs and stood, and they immediately fell down.
“The pants may be a problem,” I admitted. He turned again, assessed me and then lifted his own jacket, hoodie, sweater and T-shirt. I didn’t look away as he unhooked his belt.
“At least I didn’t stare,” he mocked me as he walked forward and handed me his belt. My face flushed as I tried to get the belt through the loops, but my fingers were still uncooperative.
He sighed and took over. His warm hands against my ice-cold skin burned. I hurriedly looked away as I felt unnatural tingles race to where he was touching me. Dear Jesus, was this normal?
“My belt can go around your waist almost twice. I feel like I shouldn’t have had that second donut at coffee break,” he muttered as he stepped away.
“I’m just really flat and shapeless,” I offered feebly.
His chocolate brown eyes flashed to mine. “I wouldn’t say that at all.”
My face flushed again as I reached for my boots. “You have a name?” I asked as I pulled my boots on.
“I do.” He collected up the discarded clothes.
“In Western society, it’s common courtesy to exchange names as pleasantries, part of greetings and introductions.” Apparently my sass was back. He just seemed to bring it out of me.
“What have you been calling me up to now?” Those eyes assessed me knowingly.
Her Greatest Mistake Page 2