by Jade Winters
‘I’ll be in the kitchen if I’m needed,’ her mother said, hurrying from the room.
What had she expected from her? Dylan’s mother hated conflict. Whether it was with Gregory or Dylan, she always managed to slip away and hide herself until whatever was brewing blew over. In a way, this had caused Dylan to lose some respect for her. She was like a Stepford wife. Great on the outside, but empty on the inside. They had never had the sort of mother-daughter relationship she’d seen so many of her friends have with their mum’s. It was her dad who Dylan had always been closer to. The one who had guided her and shaped the attitude she carried with her today. Now that she had done wrong in his eyes, he was throwing her to the wolves. So much for family loyalty.
Dylan clasped her hands tightly together, feeling as if she were in a lion’s den waiting to be mauled. For the first time ever, she began to doubt herself. Had she let the case slip out of her hands because of her feelings for Harper? Dylan would be the first to admit that she hadn’t been her usual pit-bull self when it came to handling the negotiations, but things could have turned out a lot worse. At least Robyn wanted something to do with the child now, which had been Dylan’s intention.
Her head snapped up as she heard footsteps nearing. Dylan took a deep breath. If Massey had come round to give her dad a bollocking, she would give him a piece of her mind. She was going to stand firmly behind her decisions. I am not my mother! Dylan would fight fire with fire if she had to. She rose to her feet as the living room door opened and Massey bounded in. For a large portly man, he moved with the agility of a younger person. Dylan was taken aback when she saw the beaming smile on his face.
‘Gregory my man ...’ Max Massey extended his arm and shook Gregory’s hand profusely. ‘I knew you were the right man to come to.’
Gregory grinned, but Dylan could see confusion in his eyes. ‘This is Dylan,’ he said, outstretching his arm to her. ‘She’s handling your daughter’s case.’
Dylan straightened her shoulders and walked to her father’s side.
Max gripped her slender hand with his large one. ‘Dylan, my daughter has nothing but praise for you.’
Dylan’s eyebrows rose involuntary. ‘She does?’
‘Yes. If it weren’t for you guiding Robyn through this mess, I wouldn’t have met my grandson. To be honest, I had my doubts about how this would all turn out. Knowing how stubborn my daughter can be. I’m amazed you managed to get her into mediation. This couldn’t have turned out any better. Her whole attitude has changed.’
Dylan held his gaze and said with an air of confidence, ‘She’s been a pleasure to work for Mr Massey.’
Gregory’s face resumed it’s normal expression. ‘She certainly has,’ he said squeezing Dylan’s shoulder affectionately.
Max turned his attention back to Gregory. ‘I thought I’d pop by to discuss that business I mentioned, Gregory.’
Dylan returned to her seat and grabbed her jacket. ‘In that case, I think I’ll make a move.’ She hurried to the door before her dad could talk her into staying. ‘See you tomorrow.’
Outside, Dylan took a backward glance at the house. Well, I’ll be damned. What a turn up for the books.
She almost laughed out loud at the oddness of the situation. Our client’s happy with mediation, who would’ve thought it? Normally they wanted her to perform miracles and make their spouses disappear as fast as possible, not make them spend even more time with the person they now hated. It felt good to have both parties trying to move to a more amicable agreement. Buoyed by this new feeling of one hundred per cent happiness, Dylan realised there was only one person she wanted to share it with. Whether Harper felt the same way was another matter. I suppose there’s only one way to find out.
Chapter Thirty-One
Harper paced her living room without any direction. All she knew was that she was furious. Her tears eventually ceased from the emotional numbness that came over her, and a welcome emptiness filled her. There was no grief, no longing of what could have been between her and her stepfather. One less odious voice was worth the lack of sympathy she felt. Only now, confronted by her past, did she realise the level of bitterness she still harboured.
To her relief, she wasn’t going to spend the night crying or even moping around morose. She felt alright, actually. Her fury subsided the more the news of Ted’s death sunk in. It took Harper all of fifteen minutes to recover from the phone call. Soon she was lying on the sofa in the faint light that peeked from the kitchen, with her music to keep her company.
Her doorbell rang, but she pretended not to hear it, no matter how clear it was. Perhaps, she thought, whoever buzzed it would give up and leave. On the third buzz, she moaned under her breath, dragged herself wearily off the sofa and walked slowly to the front door.
‘Is she serious?’ she whispered when she saw Dylan through the peephole. Harper was pissed off all over again. How was it that people like her mother and Dylan, bad people in her opinion, had such thick skins? They thought they could treat her like shit and expect her to just forget it all when it suited them? Annoyed, not only for Dylan’s audacity, but also because her peaceful night alone had just disappeared down the drain for the second time, she opened the door. Harper made no secret of the fact that she was not in the mood for company.
‘Hey, gorgeous.’ Dylan smiled slyly. ‘Look what I brought! I had a very happy client.’
Dylan lifted a bottle of Dom Pérignon champagne in the air and wiggled it like the first prize at a talent contest as she brushed past Dylan.
‘Come in, why don’t you?’ Harper kicked the door shut with her foot. ‘I hope you’re in a hurry,’ she told Dylan. Her disposition was so out of character that even the cutthroat visitor with the ironclad confidence looked as if she felt unwelcome.
‘What’s up with you? I thought you’d be happy about the latest development in the Massey case,’ Dylan said, making her way into the kitchen. ‘It’s a win-win situation, don’t you agree?’ Dylan pulled opened several cupboard doors as she spoke.
‘The glasses are in the cupboard above the sink,’ Harper muttered, dragging her feet as she went back to the sofa and reclined. ‘Have one glass, then go.’
‘That’s a bit rude isn’t it?’ Dylan said.
‘Dylan,’ Harper said wearily, ‘I’ve had my fill of drama today. I don’t get overtime for this shit. I thought I made it clear that we would only see each other in a professional capacity.’ Harper’s cattiness got its second wind.
‘Like I told you before, I leave my professional life at the office. Maybe you should do the same.’ Dylan held out her palms in front of her. ‘Look, I didn’t come here to fight,’ Dylan replied from the kitchen as the glasses clinked daintily in her hand. ‘We’re different people when we’re off the clock, aren’t we?’
‘Really?’ Harper almost shouted. Her exasperation was overwhelming, and even the smooth talking Dylan seemed uncertain of her attitude. ‘As far as I know, people’s jobs shouldn’t influence their personal lives selectively. You might be fucking two-faced to serve whatever end you need to achieve, but my personality and loyalty are pretty damn consistent. That way, people will always know that they can trust me.’
‘Christ, what the hell’s got into you? Are you enjoying that bitch suit you’re trying on for size? Do you like how snugly it fits your personality? Because it does. It becomes you perfectly to be a cynical cow,’ Dylan said, putting a glass of champagne down in front of Harper, who didn’t make an effort to engage her.
Harper knew her anger and frustration wasn’t about Dylan or the Massey case. It was about her mother. The woman that had abandoned her. But she didn’t care. She needed to vent on someone. Dylan claimed not to be fazed by anything, so Harper assumed she could take it. ‘I love how you think you can leave your wickedness at your office, where you facilitate the destruction of people’s lives; their real lives that, unlike you, they can’t shed whenever they feel like it.’
‘You’re in denial, s
weetheart, and you feel that realisation clamping onto your logic daily, and you can’t stand it,’ Dylan argued, knocking back her drink in one before pouring another. ‘You chose this career because you’re a good fighter. Just. Like. Me.’
‘I’m nothing like you,’ Harper protested, sitting up suddenly to face Dylan.
‘Okay whatever you say. Now drink,’ Dylan told her, and shoved the glass toward her. ‘I’m not leaving until this bottle is empty.’
‘Is that so?’ Harper asked with a tone brimming with sarcasm. She grabbed the bottle and headed for the kitchen, intent on emptying it into the sink.
Dylan chased after her, ‘Oh no you don’t!’
‘I will if it’s the only way to speed up your departure. Don’t tell me it would be rude of me to kick you out of my flat? We are both aware you wouldn’t know the difference between rudeness and decency, so I’m in good company,’ Harper ranted as she stumbled towards the sink.
Dylan wrestled the bottle from Harper’s grasp and set it down on the worktop. ‘Harper,’ Dylan said, turning Harper to face her, ‘I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s really going on with you. I’m worried about you.’ Caressing Harper’s hair gently, with her free hand Dylan tenderly took her defensive hand by the wrist and slowly lowered it, locking her fingers in Harper’s.
Harper couldn’t fight back. She simply didn’t want to. Staring wordlessly at Dylan, her heart pounded. Dylan pulled her closer. An unexpected warmth surged through her. The air around them grew heavy as Dylan held her so tight; she could feel Dylan’s body mould into her own. Then Dylan kissed her. Her warm tongue snaked its way easily into Harper’s mouth, slowly caressing every part of it. The deeper Dylan pushed, the faster Harper’s pulse accelerated. Harper didn’t want it to ever end, because if it did, it would give her time to think about what she knew would inevitably happen. Then what? Would Dylan simply move on to her next conquest? At that moment in time, Harper didn’t care about the future anymore. Her mind was still in turmoil from her mother’s call. She wanted, no needed something, anything, to banish the past from her thoughts. Thankfully Dylan was doing just the job as her hands pressed, stroked and cupped parts of Harper’s body that made her knees tremble. Harper’s fingers moved swiftly along Dylan’s shirt, unbuttoning it with lightning speed before tugging it off. Dylan responded in kind and quickly slid Harper’s T-shirt over her head, before pulling her back into an embrace. A delicious shudder heated Harper’s body at the feel of Dylan’s smooth soft skin against hers. Any doubts were quickly banished. All Harper could think about now was getting Dylan into bed as fast as possible. Between long drawn out kisses, she led the way as they stumbled down the hall, fumbling with the buttons on their trousers. Harper wanted to capture every last second of this moment. To imprint it on her memory forever. They entered the bedroom and Harper fell onto the bed while Dylan remained standing, loosening her hair. The dark tresses tumbling carelessly down her shoulders.
‘My God, you are so beautiful,’ Harper whispered as her eyes greedily drank in Dylan’s tall, lean body. With the light from behind her in the hallway, the yellow halo accentuated her perfect curvature. Dylan’s small firm breasts heaved as she breathed hard, sweeping her long hair back in one swift movement.
Harper slipped out of her remaining clothes and spread her legs invitingly to accommodate Dylan’s body atop hers. Harper drew Dylan’s face to her, pressing her open lips on Dylan’s once more, savouring the sweetness of her tongue. It was beyond strange to be kissing Dylan. To be lying naked with her, feeling Dylan’s unfamiliar breasts in her mouth, hearing her groans of arousal as Harper’s fingers found their way to Dylan’s intimate centre. Despite the strangeness, everything seemed so right. Harper bit her lower lip as Dylan slowly made her way down her body, kissing and nipping parts of her skin as she went. Every place her mouth touched left a flame of liquid fire. Finally stopping between her legs, Harper spread them apart even further and clutched Dylan there as her tongue feather-touched her clit with tantalising persuasion. Harper’s body pulsed with anticipation.
The thunder rumbled outside the window where Harper and Dylan made love until the early hours of the morning, but the storm was only just beginning. It lurked on the horizon of both women’s lives while they blissfully forgot that they were bitter rivals.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Harper awoke just before 8 a.m., her arm still wrapped tightly around Dylan’s waist. The cool air on her nude body was like a fresh caress, which made her shiver just a little. She could still feel Dylan’s presence on her skin, and it made her smile. Though Harper knew she’d crossed the line, there wasn’t one second of the previous night she’d take back. All she had to do was make sure her feelings for Dylan didn’t sway her in any way when it came to finalising the Massey divorce. As long as we both agree not to talk about the case in our personal time it should be alright. Harper reasoned. Sweeping a strand of hair away from Dylan’s face, Harper gazed at her. She couldn’t believe how someone who dealt with the kind of people she did, slept so well. The same way she couldn’t help being attracted to the ruthless woman, and part of her hated herself for it. Yet, at the same time, she had hoped to influence Dylan to become softer, more compassionate and to teach her that money and prestige wasn’t everything, just like winning was not the definition of one’s power. Harper wanted to get Dylan so close to her that she couldn’t help but see that there was more to accomplishment than just devastating the opponent. Achievement could come from helping others, from obliterating unfairness and injustice as much as the ego needed to feel superior.
Harper pushed herself up onto her elbow, leant forward and planted a quick kiss on Dylan’s lips. Before she could pull away, Dylan’s eyes flashed open and she smiled as she pulled Harper back towards her, holding her tight in an embrace.
‘I dreamt about you all night,’ Dylan said.
‘I hope I wasn’t in a nightmare.’
‘No, it was the perfect dream. I felt so happy. We were standing in front of a new building holding a pair of keys. It was the beginning of something, but you woke me up, and I never got to finish it.’
Harper leant in and nibbled on her ear. ‘That positively sounds like us moving in together. Don’t you think it’s a little too soon for that?’ she teased.
Dylan laughed, pushed Harper onto her back and straddled her. ‘I might be impulsive but not that impulsive.’
‘Are you saying I’m not girlfriend material? Dylan, you offend me. In my own bed as well. I’m hurt.’ Though it was meant as a joke, there was a hint of truth in it. Was Harper girlfriend material? Or were they destined to be friends with benefits for the duration of their relationship, however long it was? She dearly hoped not.
There was a sensual flame in Dylan’s eyes as she said, ‘Hmm, I wonder how I can make it up to you.’
Harper grinned. She knew a hundred and one ways. ‘Well, you remember what you did to me last night …’
Dylan slowly traced her finger along Harper’s collarbone. ‘If I recall, I did quite a lot of things to you last night; you’re gonna have to be more specific.’
Harper drew Dylan’s head towards her and whispered in her ear.
Dylan laughed. ‘Oh, that. Do you think we’ve got time? It takes at least an hour to warm up for it.’ Suddenly looking panic-stricken, she reached for her phone on the bedside cabinet and glanced at it. ‘… Oh shit, is that the time? I’ve got to go. I’ve never been late for work in my life,’ she said, climbing off Harper and stepping onto the floor.
Harper slapped Dylan’s firm arse as she bent over to pick up her clothes. ‘Chicken! Any excuse. I’m going to think it’s a fluke now.’
‘Oh yeah?’ Dylan turned to study her for a few seconds. ‘We’ll see about that.’ She picked up her phone again and punched in some numbers. Harper lay back with her hands behind her head as she listened in on Dylan’s call to work.
‘Cathy, I’m going to be a couple of hours late.’ She rolled her eyes. �
��Yes, I’m fine. No, a walk-in hasn’t replaced me …’ A few seconds later, Dylan placed the phone on the night stand and climbed back into bed. She threw the covers back.
‘Fluke, aye. I’ll show you a fluke,’ Dylan said laughing as she pulled Harper up into her arms and kissed her hungrily.
Harper knew she had sealed her fate by opening her heart to Dylan. She only prayed that now she was in, Dylan wouldn’t trample on it.
***
Sometime later, the women sat in the kitchen drinking coffee in silence. Harper was lost in thought. What should have been a feeling of exhilaration was marred by what she had to do later that day. Send money to her mother. Just thinking about the woman soured her day. Even after all of this time, the day her mother threw her out felt like yesterday. So did the feeling of rejection. She didn’t hear or see Dylan move out of her seat. The first she knew of it was when Dylan’s arms encircled her from behind. It was just what she needed.
Dylan kissed the top of her head, then snuggled her face into the crook of Harper’s neck. ‘Penny for your thoughts?’
Harper reached behind and stroked Dylan’s hair. ‘It’s not important.’
‘You thinking about the Massey case?’ Dylan probed.
Harper sighed. Maybe it would do her good to talk to someone about it. She had kept it to herself for so many years. Maybe that’s why I’m still so bitter. ‘No, it’s just my step-dad died.’
Dylan moved to the side of her chair and crouched down. ‘Oh, no. I’m so sorry.’ She reached up and kissed her cheek tenderly.
Despite the warmth Dylan’s kiss elicited, Harper could hear the coldness in her own voice when she spoke of Ted. ‘Don’t be. I hated him. He was a bully who made my life hell.’
Dylan took her hand and held it to her cheek. ‘When did you find out?’
‘Last night.’