by Bay, Louise
“You’re always so cheerful, Violet,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “And good job on that bill yesterday.”
I wasn’t sure if he’d be so impressed if he knew how I’d spoken to Knightley, what had almost happened between us, but hopefully he’d never find out.
“Thanks, Jimmy. Baby steps,” I called over my shoulder as I walked into the admin room. I was the first to arrive again this morning. I squinted as I walked closer, focusing on a shallow, glossy black box on my desk. As I got closer, I could see it was tied with a black bow. What the hell?
I peeled off my coat and dropped it on my chair before reaching for the package. My heart was thumping. Why would anyone leave me a gift? I slid the bow off and lifted the lid of the box as I sat down. I pulled open the white tissue paper and pulled out what was buried.
Oh. My. God.
A skirt. A Dolce and Gabbana skirt.
Knightley. Who else?
I exhaled. I didn’t know what to think. I couldn’t accept a freaking designer skirt. The one that had ripped had been from Forever 21. And it hadn’t even been his fault. So much for avoiding him today.
I slipped past Jimmy and knocked on Knightley’s door.
“What?” he barked.
I grinned and then stopped myself before I went in and closed the door firmly behind me. He didn’t look up.
“Mr. Knightley,” I said.
Slowly, he lifted his gaze to mine. “Miss King.”
I tilted my head. “It was such a thoughtful gift, but I can’t accept the skirt.”
He frowned and blinked, once. “Of course you can,” he snapped. “The damage to your other one was my fault. This office is indeed a mess. I’ve scraped my gown on that corner several times. I should have had someone mend it. It’s a simple replacement.”
I took a step forward. “You don’t replace Forever 21 with Dolce and Gabbana.”
He turned back to his computer. “It would seem you’re wrong about that.”
Arrogant ass. “Well, I can’t accept it.”
“You can, Violet, and you will.”
My breath caught when he used my name.
“You will displease me if I don’t see you wearing that skirt tomorrow.”
I put my hand on my hip. Seriously? “I’ll displease you?”
“Yes, now leave. I have work to do.”
“Tell me about the Generide Corporation case. How many hours?”
He didn’t respond, but kept tapping away at his computer.
“Just tell me how many hours and I’ll go,” I said.
“Patience, Miss King. I’m checking.”
I pressed lips together to stop my smirk from forming.
“Ninety,” he said, looking me straight in the eye.
“Nine zero?”
He nodded.
Holy shitballs; Jimmy was going to love me. Without another word, I turned and left the office, grabbing a handful of papers from the pile I was working on before I left. If he was going to buy me Dolce and Gabbana skirts, then he could give up a few more files.
I closed his door, clutched the papers to my chest, and hurried back to my desk. Another day, another invoice raised, another day I kept my job, but I hadn’t managed to reject the skirt. Worse, he’d commanded I wear it. Like the lawyer he was, he wanted evidence that I’d accepted his gift to me. Did I want to displease him? I landed on my chair and turned to my desk. And the wall. No. I wanted to please him. I wanted him to want me. I wanted him to fantasize about his hand up my skirt, fucking me over his desk. Despite him being moody and bad-tempered, it felt as if I’d pierced a part of his armor, as if I were part of some secret, seductive world—his world that only a few were even invited to.
“Violet,” Jimmy called, and I spun to face him. “Could you take minutes of our chambers meeting tomorrow night at six?” he asked. “I wouldn’t ask but Becky is out—”
“Yes, that’s fine,” I replied. It wasn’t as if I had anything else to do, and I found chambers life more and more fascinating. I’d learned that Lincoln’s Inn, this little tucked-away haven in the middle of one of the busiest cities in the world, was one of the four Inns of Court that gave barristers their certification. These grassy enclaves in London had housed barristers for the last six hundred years—way before the city around them had grown up into the modern metropolis it was today.
The Inns of Court had stayed constant while the rest of London metamorphosed.
It explained why everything was so old-fashioned. I’d spent lunchtimes exploring tiny streets that led to dead ends or another collection of buildings that wouldn’t be out of place in a Dickens’ novel. I’d wandered into law libraries, and once found myself in what was described as the Great Hall and must have been the inspiration for JK Rowling’s Hogwarts dining room—floor-to-ceiling oak paneling dotted with portraits of judges and barristers and colored coats of arms alongside huge, arched, stained-glass windows. It was all so different to what I was used to in New York and different was exactly what I needed.
So I was more than happy to take minutes at what felt like a meeting of a secret society, to see how all these barristers interacted with each other and Knightley. He seemed to have so many sides to him, arrogant lawyer, kind stranger, prolific gift giver. What else would I discover about him?
Alexander
After Violet had burst into my room yesterday to tell me she wasn’t accepting my gift, I kept waiting for her to reappear. But she never did. I hadn’t seen her all day today, either. Normally I wouldn’t notice if I’d seen Craig or Jimmy or any of the staff in chambers from one week’s end to the next, but Violet King had caught my attention.
Today, I’d wanted to see if she’d complied and worn the skirt I’d bought her. She’d acted as if I’d made some huge, inappropriate gesture, but I’d just gone online and had it delivered to my desk. It wasn’t like it took any effort. After all, it was my desk that had ruined the original, and I knew she didn’t have many clothes. I’d quite enjoyed picking it out on the website—imagining what she’d look like in it, how the material would bunch with my hand up it. But now that I’d not seen her, I was concerned that I’d gone too far. Not that Violet seemed to be the kind of woman who was easily frightened off. But I did have to wonder if the episode in my office and my subsequent gift made me look like a kind of pervert.
Since my wife and I separated three years ago, I’d had a series of one-night stands, but I’d not dated anyone, and the women I’d fucked had nothing to do with chambers. Somehow, Violet, with her smart mouth and long legs, had worked me up to a point where I’d allowed myself to lose focus. I couldn’t give in to my desire for her. My work had to have my sole focus—it was who I was. In fact, wondering how she’d look in the skirt I’d bought should be the last thing I was fixating on.
Further down the corridor I heard Craig knocking on office doors. The dreaded monthly chambers meeting. I normally managed to double-book myself a client dinner or something equally as immovable, so I didn’t have to attend. But my mind had been elsewhere. I’d show my face and then fake an emergency call after thirty minutes or so.
I came out of my office and turned left down to our largest conference room and found myself following Miss King. So she hadn’t run off after all. She’d just not been into my office today. Interesting. I glanced down and noticed she was wearing the skirt I’d bought her. It had a thick, red seam that led to the split in the back, a pathway to a promised land. I trailed my eyes back to her neck. She’d worn her hair up today. I preferred it down.
“You look like you’ve got something on your mind, Mr. Knightley,” Jimmy said as he came up next to me. Violet turned her head slightly, as if she were going to look over her shoulder, then had thought better about it.
“Always,” I replied. Except I was usually fixating over work, and not the nape of a woman’s neck.
“I’m sorry to hear about the Mermerand case being adjourned.”
Jimmy didn’t give a shit about th
e Mermerand case. And I was fine with that—it wasn’t his job. “It’s fine,” I replied. I didn’t need to be his friend. I had no patience for small talk. I just needed him to do his job. Apparently, he’d not realized that yet.
The carved oak door of the conference room was propped open and barristers filled up the seats around the table. There were a few spaces still available, but there wouldn’t be by the time everyone had arrived and so some barristers, normally the more junior in chambers, would take one of the seats around the outside of the room. Jimmy headed to one side of the outside circle of chairs by the arched windows while Violet headed to the other. I followed her. I’d always sat at the table, even when I was newly called to the bar. My father’s reputation may have been an albatross around my neck in some ways, but it also provided certain privileges, such as automatic respect among more senior members of the bar, including judges. It might not be fair, but it was how life at the bar worked. Nepotism was an accepted way of life. There were plenty of advantages it afforded me, but there was also a downside that no one saw—the expectation, the reputation to live up to.
I took a seat next to Violet. Charles, one of the barristers I respected, pulled out the chair next to him. “There’s room at the table,” he said.
“I’m fine here,” I replied.
He frowned, clearly a little confused, but turned back to the table.
I wanted to be able to make a discreet exit before the meeting ended, so sitting here was better. Besides, it put me next to Violet. I’d not been this close to her since the episode in my office. The scent of jasmine wafted my way, releasing the tension in my muscles. I leaned back, my thigh nudging hers. She didn’t flinch, didn’t react at all. Did I have any effect on her? Fuck, why did I care?
The meeting was called to order and Violet began scribbling away. I wasn’t interested in the pedestrian agenda that included the proposition of renting space next door for additional conference rooms and the number of places we had for pupils—trainee barristers—for the coming year. It was just an excuse for certain members of chambers to hear more of their own voice as far as I was concerned. But Violet was recording everything as if she were reporting for Parliament’s official record.
Two of the most senior members of chambers began to trade opinions about a current pupil and whether he should be offered tenancy—a permanent place in chambers. They were diametrically opposed, one thinking he should take a spot, the other believing he wasn’t good enough. I didn’t have a view. I hadn’t worked with him. I hated working with people generally, but particularly those who hadn’t already proven themselves. My reputation was too important, and I was too much of a control freak.
Except, there was nothing freaky about wanting to be in control—it was a natural survival instinct. One that had served me well. Voices became raised and Violet turned to me, her eyes widening as if she were sharing her shock with me. It was the first time she’d acknowledged me, and I was puzzled at how much I enjoyed the intimacy of her looking to me for answers. As if we had some kind of connection or history.
What the fuck was happening to me?
This girl had cast a spell on me.
The room was uncomfortably hot and my clothes unusually tight. Trying to give myself room to breathe, I ran my index finger around the inside of my collar. It seemed to do the opposite, and I found myself gasping for air as if I’d become allergic to this meeting, or worse, overwhelmed by the possibility that a woman was getting to me.
I stood abruptly and left, not bothering to excuse myself. I needed to create some distance between Violet and me. I’d never been unsettled by a woman before. Even my wife had found it difficult to get my attention, which I guess was part of the reason I’d spent the last three years living in a hotel.
It wasn’t as if Violet King was so special, despite her perfume of the Indian twilight and her legs that looked like they were the perfect length to wrap around my waist. No matter the delicate curve of her neck and the press of her hands.
No. Violet wasn’t special and I was done thinking about her.
Chapter Nine
Violet
Despite knowing it would make her English ass uncomfortable, I hugged Darcy as hard as I could. It was Friday. I’d been paid. I was ready to flirt with some British boys and drink some London cocktails. Luckily, Darcy had saved me from an evening in front of the TV with a pizza. I was excited to have my first real night out since I’d arrived in London.
“Put me down, Violet,” she said. “Anyone would think you’d just been released from prison.”
I laughed and sat down on the low velvet chair in an uber-cool bar in the center of Soho. “Some would say I have.”
“How is the job?”
Darcy lived in a world where it was possible to survive without working—not that she didn’t work. She did. The responsibilities of running her family’s estate swallowed up her life. She just didn’t have to work. I wasn’t sure what that would feel like.
“Good. I’m a ‘proper’ commuting Londoner,” I said, waving at a waiter to get his attention.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t find you something more exciting.”
“Are you kidding? It was so great of you. And actually, I’m enjoying it. It’s distracting.” I hadn’t thought about David and the IPO since I’d started.
“Aren’t they a bunch of snooty arseholes who were born with a silver spoon in their mouths?” she asked.
I raised my eyebrows at her. “Seriously? This coming from the granddaughter and sister of freaking dukes?”
She laughed. “I suppose when you put it like that . . . It’s just that barristers are an odd bunch. They seem to exist in a different world. I dated one once.”
She’d caught my attention. Were they impossible to date? Knightley worked so much, I wasn’t sure he’d have the time for anything other than sleep. “I didn’t know that. What happened?”
“He was emotionally stunted, obviously.”
I nodded. That sounded about right. And a mass of contradictions. Formal and polite in some circumstances, not so much when he was looking at me as if he wanted to devour me. But smart as anything and complicated as anything. And I really liked that.
The waiter delivered our cocktails—my favorite: a French 75.
“And he was a total workaholic.”
Hmmm, that sounded familiar. It was a wonder any of them managed to get laid. As much as he was a workaholic, I bet Knightley made time for sex. Although I couldn’t imagine he prioritized a relationship. People didn’t seem to be his focus. He was all about the paper.
“And the sex just wasn’t that good. He had a premature thing happening. Came from kissing me one time,” Darcy continued.
I shuddered. “Oh wow.” Knightley seemed too much in control to have that issue. “Doesn’t sound particularly fulfilling.”
She laughed. “No. Not in any way. But I guess you don’t have to fuck them.”
I kept my face passive, careful not to give anything away. Darcy didn’t need to know I wanted to get naked with Knightley. Since our encounter in his office, I’d avoided him as much as I could. Then, in the meeting yesterday, he’d sat next to me despite seats available at the table. Maybe he’d wanted to reassure me that I shouldn’t feel uncomfortable, but then I might be overestimating his softer side.
In any case, he’d left the meeting in a bit of a rush and I’d found myself missing the warmth of his body next to mine. He’d sat closer to me than he’d needed to, and I’d enjoyed it, reveling in the buzz between us. At least I’d thought there’d been a buzz between us. Maybe I’d imagined it.
“Violet?”
“Sorry,” I said, realizing Darcy had been talking while I daydreamed. “I just remembered I forgot to finish something off at work.”
“So you’re enjoying it?” she asked.
I nodded. “I’ve never had an office job before. At the start-up we were working from our apartments or coffee shops and after that I’ve always waitr
essed or worked in hospitality. But yes, it’s better than I expected.” For so long I’d rejected any job that involved a computer; I’d not wanted any association with my past disappointment.
When Darcy didn’t respond, I glanced up from my drink.
She grinned at me. “You never know, this could lead to something.”
“It’s a nice thought, but I doubt it.” Clerical work would do for now. But I didn’t emotionally invest in anything for the long term. It wasn’t who I was. Not now. At least, I didn’t think it was. Swapping New York for London had been the biggest change I’d made in my life since David and I split after college, and it had awoken something in me. I craved something more; I just wasn’t sure what. “Enough about work. I want to hear about your dating life.”
Darcy groaned. “What dating life? I never meet people. If I wanted to date a horse, I’d be perfectly placed.”
“I like to think I’m open-minded when it comes to dating, but I don’t think going out with a horse should even be a consideration.” I grinned. I was pretty sure she was joking, but the more time I spent around the British, the more I realized anything was possible. “Come on, I’m sure I can find you a cute guy. You know I found your brother for Scarlett. I think I have a bit of a magic touch for these things.” I scanned the room. The lighting was dim and the walls a bronze color. There were no windows and the floors were black so it felt intimate and almost sullen, but it was small and the tables were close together so I could make out most of the other patrons. “What kind of guy do you go for?”
Darcy sighed. “Someone who’s not a total shit,” she said, in a way that said she didn’t think that should be a complete no-brainer of a requirement. As if she expected me to suggest she date a total shit if he took her to a nice restaurant, or was a good kisser or something.
“Okay. Any other criteria?” I asked.
“Well obviously someone who loves the country. I mean, I like town and everything, but my heart aches if I spend too long without seeing miles of green fields and acres of trees.”