by Jade Winters
‘Nope. Her assistant told me she’s still in pieces after being ripped to shreds by one of the wolves over at Maynard’s.’
‘She’ll be alright once she settles in. All newbies get dragged across hot coals in their first few cases. The memory soon fades after you’ve been round the block a few times.’
Shay looked doubtful. ‘If you say so. But I wouldn’t stay here if I were her. I’d rather be happy than miserable, regardless of the money.’
Harper smiled at her sadly. Shay Morgan had been in a serious car accident in which she nearly died. Instead of looking at her survival as a godsend, Shay’s then husband turned his back on her. He’d told her she was broken goods because of the injuries she’d sustained and had divorce papers delivered to her hospital bed.
Syner & Associates were assigned to facilitate the divorce proceedings, and that was when Shay’s plight compelled Harper to take her under her wing and hire her as an assistant when she was well enough to leave the hospital.
‘Do you think you’ll get a decent settlement?’ Shay asked, scrutinizing Harper through her thin spectacles.
‘She has a good case. I’m going to try my very best,’ Harper told Shay matter-of-factly. ‘I won’t be fighting just for her, though. There’s an innocent baby involved as well.’
‘It’s always the children who come off worst.’
‘Yes, they do, and that’s why I’m going to take great pleasure in hammering Abi’s wife. Imagine abandoning a baby just because she decided motherhood didn’t suit her.’
Shay gasped. ‘Terrible. Absolutely terrible.’ She dropped onto a chair opposite Harper and stared up at the ceiling in thought, her mouth agape. ‘When I hear how cruel people are to each other, sometimes I wish I’d died in that car crash.’
Harper reached over and squeezed her hand. ‘There’re a lot of good people in the world, Shay. They’re not all bad apples. Even the ones that pass through the doors of solicitors like Maynard’s.’
‘If you say so,’ Shay nodded.
‘Anyway, I’ve told Abi to contact the Child Maintenance Service to sort out support payments straight away. Her wife has just bullied her since they split. Forcing her to leave the family home, withholding money. If this goes to court she won’t have a leg to stand on.’
‘Is there anyone else involved?’
‘Isn’t there always?’
Chapter Eleven
Like liquid, metallic crimson, the nail polish poured itself from the tiny hairs of the brush and bled out onto Tiffany’s fingernail. With expert precision, she gently spread the red stickiness from her cuticle to the edge of her elongated nail where it ended in a brisk spittle of gel. The smell always intoxicated Robyn. It reminded her of when she was a teenager, and she’d sleepover at her best friend’s house. She would watch Melanie groom herself like a grown woman and fantasise about her running her newly-painted nails down her back, screaming out in ecstasy as Robyn fucked her senseless. Unfortunately, that’s all it ever remained—a fantasy.
Tiffany blew on her nails. Her thick lashes twitched as she looked Robyn up and down. ‘So are you gonna take your solicitor’s advice or not?’ she purred in her husky voice. It held so much authority, that hoarse porn moan of hers, and she knew it.
Robyn looked at her in mild alarm. ‘What? Transfer some of my assets to my parents and give them even more power over me.’ She shook her head. ‘I don’t think so. Besides she was only kidding. It’s illegal to do that shit.’ Sometimes I forget she’s only twenty-one. It’s like dating a teenager. She doesn’t understand anything about life.
‘You don’t have to tell her. And you don’t have to do it with your parents. Do it with someone else. It makes sense if you don’t want Abi gettin’ her sticky fingers on your money.’
‘In theory yes, but in reality there isn’t anyone I trust enough …’ Robyn rubbed her hand over her face when she saw the disappointment on Tiffany’s features. She didn’t want to risk Tiffany falling into one of her strops. The last time Robyn had upset Tiffany over a trivial matter, Tiffany hadn’t spoken to her for two whole days. Instead Robyn had been subjected to a lot of eye rolling, heavy sighs and the refusal to have sex. She was in no rush to get into her bad books again. ‘Oh, fuck it. That’s not what I meant to say. It’s just too risky is what I mean.’
‘You could always transfer it to me?’ Tiffany said with not a sign present in her expression that she was joking.
‘To you? Now, why would I want to do a thing like that?’ Robyn asked, running her clammy palms down the sides of her thighs.
Tiffany sighed. ‘’Cause it’s the only way you’re gonna get outta this mess. Once your divorce is over, you can have it transferred right back, done and dusted.’
Why couldn’t she at least have more than a couple of brain cells in her head? As if I’d hand over my money to the likes of her. If it weren’t for the mind blowing sex, Tiffany would have been history months ago.
‘Look, let’s not spoil our weekend before it’s even started,’ Robyn said. ‘Now help me choose something to wear.’
Robyn opened the wardrobe door and flicked through the clothes, unable to decide.
‘Oh, for fuck’s sake, Robyn. Just pick anything, will ya? If you take any longer, we’re gonna get stuck in traffic,’ Tiffany cried in dismay, her voice carrying that distinct force Robyn hated, the tone she took when she was not getting her way.
‘Just give me a minute. Don’t throw a tantrum like a fuc—’ Robyn stopped abruptly when she caught sight of Tiffany’s image in the mirror, her pretty young face distorted in what she could only construe as a dare for Robyn to finish her sentence. Robyn’s eyes roamed over the perky mounds peeking through Tiffany’s stringy top, her lean lines running into long, smooth legs. If we don’t get out of here soon, we’ll never leave. Reluctantly Robyn returned her gaze to her clothes and dressed quickly in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. ‘Come, let’s go.’
‘Finally!’
‘I don’t want to hear any moaning from you about the place when we get there either. I had to kiss my colleague’s arse to get the keys to his house.’ Robyn doubted Tiffany would find fault with the place, though. The pictures Robyn had seen of the lakeside property were stunning.
An hour later, Robyn’s Lexus glided along the winding lanes. The Hertfordshire countryside was impressive in the stark contrast the grey sky lent the rolling stretches of green grass and trees.
‘How far now?’ Tiffany asked, shifting in her seat.
‘Why are you so impatient? Can’t you tear your eyes away from your bloody phone and look at the nature around you?’ Robyn said, staring ahead at the small rusty signs emerging from behind the foliage flanking the road, directing her to the Manning plot.
‘It’s borin’. Who wants to stare at trees and grass? I’m not a cow, ya know.’ Tiffany blew her gum into a bubble and burst it with a loud pop. ‘Are you sure you know where we’re goin’? I thought this car would have a sat-nav fitted,’ she whined, tugging at her top.
Robyn was getting a tad irritated with her childish bitching, but the sight of her small, erect nipples protruding through her top mollified her instantly. Why does she have such an effect on me? Since meeting Tiffany she’d felt like a hormonal teenager, not the grown woman she was. But I’m not complaining.
‘Do I know where I’m going? Of course I do. There we go. See? I told you,’ Robyn said suddenly. She smiled like a little girl bragging to her mum for that little bit of praise. Ahead of them, in the cloudy light of day, a rusty overgrown gate slumped.
‘Awesome,’ Tiffany raved sarcastically.
Robyn stopped the car and got out to unlock the padlock that was hidden under the creepers and spider webs.
‘Come on, you fucking piece of shit,’ she cussed under her breath, making sure Tiffany could not see her wrestle with something as simple as a lock.
‘Are you managing alright?’ Tiffany called from the car.
‘Yes, just have to see which of t
he keys fit in here,’ Robyn yelled back, wishing Tiffany would just shut her mouth and do something constructive for once.
Robyn slung the gate aside with great ceremony and wiped her hands on her jeans. The gravel road looked black in the embrace of the bright green long grass and shrubs rocking in the slowly growing breath of the wind. It took no more than a moment for the skies to open and the subsequent downpour to drench her T-shirt. Tiffany’s words urging her to hurry to the house came back to annoy her.
‘Fucking great,’ Robyn complained through pursed lips as she ran for the car and jumped in.
‘So are we gonna just sit here in the rain like a pair of muppets?’
‘Seriously, Tiffany you need to stop now. You’re grating on my nerves.’
‘But it’s pissin’ down.’
‘Tiffany, I’m not making it rain,’ Robyn snapped as she navigated the slippery mess under the Lexus. Nag, nag, nag. That’s all she’s done all fucking day. Robyn gritted her teeth. She decided the best way to stay sane around Tiffany was to concentrate on the benefits of having her around. That way she wouldn’t be at risk of having a heart attack or stroke at the age of thirty-five. ‘The house is just around the corner. We can make a fire and fuck to our hearts’ delight until the rain stops, alright?’ she said with a smirk.
‘Ha!’ Tiffany exclaimed. ‘How’re you goin’ to make that fire, lover? All the trees are wet, and we didn’t buy any logs, did we? God, why do I agree to come out into these rugged spider-infested shit holes with you?’
‘Stop complaining, for Christ’s sake. I’m sure there will be wood inside,’ Robyn said abruptly. So there might not be a fire. Big fucking deal. The fact that she’d brought her to this magnificent house for the weekend should have been enough. Especially as staying in such a place would be a step up for her. Tiffany was brought up on a council estate and if it wasn’t for Robyn that’s where she’d still be. Most probably flipping burgers at McDonalds or something. Robyn realised with a start that Tiffany was exactly like Abi. At the beginning it was all teeth and smiles, but once they had their feet under the table, they turned into ungrateful bitches, who were never pleased no matter what you did for them.
‘I knew you’d manage to fuck the day up somehow, I knew it,’ Tiffany said, completely ignoring Robyn’s request.
‘What do you mean?’ Robyn’s frown fell deep into her forehead as her voice grew louder in discontent. ‘Well!’
Tiffany shrunk back in her seat. Robyn’s thunderous question obviously sounded a bit too aggressive. A loud clank beneath the undercarriage of the vehicle snapped them both out of their engagement. The car sank to one side.
‘What the fuck was that?’ Tiffany yelled, gripping the edge of her seat.
‘The car’s stuck, obviously,’ Robyn replied, dropping her foot on the accelerator to push the car forward, but the tyres just spun around aimlessly. Robyn’s heart sank at the sound. Now she would never hear the end of it. But surprisingly, Tiffany said nothing. Like a hail of bullets on a tank the rain pelted the windows and body of the stationary car. Tiffany pulled out her mobile phone.
‘What are you doing?’ Robyn asked.
‘Callin’ my mate Billy to come and get me. What d’ya think?’ Tiffany frowned, quite indifferent to the problem. ‘Hey, Billy boy. Tiffany. Listen, do me a favour ...’
Robyn’s heart thundered crazily, and a flush rose to her cheeks. ‘Tiffany!’
‘What?’ she asked after she’d disconnected her call. ‘You’re welcome to come back with us. I just don’t see the point of sittin’ here in the middle of nowhere, waitin’ for the rain to stop. We’re stuck, rain or no rain.’
The audacity of the bitch drove Robyn beyond control. ‘You shouldn’t have done that.’
‘Why not? I solve problems. I don’t sit around moanin’ about the situation,’ she said nonchalantly. ‘I mean, look at ya. If you have to go to court you’re going to lose half of everything. You know you can hide it but you just boo hoo the idea. I’m startin’ to think you just love all the drama.’
Robyn’s jaw and fists tightened. Tiffany was pushing her over the edge. She didn’t know when to back off. Any normal person would have picked up the cues that Robyn was annoyed, but not Tiffany. She existed in a world of her own, where everything and everyone revolved around no one but her and her wants and needs. This was one aspect of their relationship Robyn didn’t like. Robyn liked to come first at all times.
‘For God’s sake, Tiff, not that shit again. Can’t you leave it alone? I’ll sort something out. Now what am I going to do about my car? I can’t just leave it here.’
‘Okay, keep your hair on.’ Tiffany pulled her lips into a sarcastic smirk. ‘I know what. You stay here with your precious car while I get back to civilisation. Call the AA, they’ll come and babysit you,’ she said with a tone of faux reassurance that bordered on patronisation.
Claustrophobia engulfed Robyn. She wound down the window for some much needed air and inhaled deeply. ‘Tiffany, you’re not leaving me here,’ Robyn said sternly, locking her hand over Tiffany’s wrist.
Tiffany gave her a frightened look. ‘You’re hurtin’ me, Robyn.’
Within seconds, an eruption of volcanic anger exploded within Robyn over which she had no control. Robyn had never laid her hand on another person before but this was the closest she’d come. It took all her strength not to punch Tiffany straight in the face with all the force she could muster. Instead her anger came out through her words. ‘You will not treat me like something you’ve just trod on, you little cunt. You might get away with that shit with your pathetic friends, but I will not tolerate your juvenile power plays, you hear me?’ Robyn growled at her through the onslaught of the storm outside.
Tiffany’s cheeks turned a chalky white. ‘I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about. Let me go.’ She tried to yank her arm away, but Robyn’s grip tightened.
‘You’re staying here with me. You go where I go. Right?’ she said, sinking her nails deep into Tiffany’s flesh. I want to smash the fucking bitches head in.
Tiffany nodded and smiled weakly. ‘Whatever you say, Rob.’
Quivering with rage, Robyn dropped her arm. ‘Good. Now get back on the phone to whatever arsehole you just called and tell him we’ve got it sorted.’ She leant in, their faces barely inches apart. ‘Don’t fuck with me ever again,’ Robyn said in a low threatening voice. ‘Remember, anyone who gets in my way always lives to regret it.’
Chapter Twelve
‘You have mail’ pinged in the lower corner of Dylan’s computer screen. Absent-mindedly her eyes drifted away from the letter she was reading and she clicked on the message icon. It was an email from Syner and Associates solicitors. Dylan leant back in her seat and smiled. The win remained fresh in her mind, and she still felt on a high. Syner & Associates? She didn’t think their firms would cross paths again so soon. Dylan checked to see if the sender was Martha Thomas, the opposing counsel she had sent cowering in defeat a few days before. It wasn’t. It was from another solicitor by the name of Harper Anderson.
Dylan’s eyes skimmed the email. One line in particular caught her undivided attention:
I will be representing the respondent Abi Massey ...
Dylan picked up the mug of coffee that had been sitting on her desk for the past ten minutes and pulled her face at the taste of the lukewarm liquid as soon as it made contact with her taste buds. She needed a few seconds to get her head around this new piece of information. So the wife claiming to be broke and destitute has now gone and found herself a solicitor, and from Syner and Associates, no less.
She fired back an email straight away:
I thought the Massey case was going to be uncontested?
A curt reply came minutes later:
It was, but not anymore. We shall be filing our own divorce petition.
So much for a cut and dried case. Dylan leant forward, clicked open the browser and typed Syner and Associates into the search engine. Within sec
onds, their website appeared on the screen. She clicked on the ‘Our people’ link in the navigation menu and then scrolling down, stopped at Harper’s photo. Her immediate impression was favourable. Hmm very nice. Blonde, just my type. Not that she would pursue such a woman. The last thing she needed was to be involved with another solicitor who was married to her work as much as she was. No. Viewing the eye candy from afar would be enough.
Fine. I look forward to receiving it, Dylan wrote back and closed down her email. She didn’t waste time with opponents who opted to play hardball with her. She was certain she could make Anderson accept her superficially merciful deal rather than make her client face a court case.
I think it’s best to do a little background research on Harper Anderson and find out exactly who I’ll be up against. On a whim, Dylan decided to blow out the hot date she had planned for that night. Looks like it’s going to have to be a quick drink at the pub and then home. She would spend the evening going over Robyn’s case and working on her strategy. Leisure time would have to sit on the back burner, again.
At ten to six, Dylan alighted from the taxi outside Holborn station. Pulling the band from her ponytail, she let her hair fall over her shoulders. Dylan could shed her professional demeanour now. Work time was over, and she could allow herself to relax for an hour or two depending on who was around. The Kings Tap was a watering hole where many of the legal fraternity hung out after work to let down their hair. It was where foes became friends.
Through the bustle of peak time pedestrian traffic, she made her way past the long line of shops and restaurants until reaching her destination. Dylan entered the pub and eased her way into the crowd. All around her, mainly in groups, men and women dressed like clones in tailored business suits, chatted animatedly about work.
A man of about fifty with thin wisps of hair protruding from a shiny bald patch stumbled into Dylan’s path and gave her an appreciative whistle. ‘Hello, darling. What’s your pleasure?’