by Loretta Hill
‘I’ve got a surprise for you,’ Cyril nodded with pleasure, his bushy eyebrows lifting cheekily. ‘A present, if you will.’
Seb took a fortifying sip of his coffee. ‘You haven’t set me up on a blind date again, have you?’
‘Lord, no!’ Cyril shuddered. ‘Given the last three were such disasters, I wouldn’t risk my reputation with my female friends further.’
‘Disasters? Really, they said that? I thought I gave all of them a good time. Who was that last girl I dated, Lisa, Lilly, Lee-anne …?’
‘Her name was Lani and she was my personal trainer.’
‘Ah yes, we spent a wonderful week together. Good food, expensive entertainment, great sex.’ Seb permitted himself a ghost of a smile. ‘Most dates didn’t wrap up till the next morning. It was very nice. I don’t know what she could possibly be complaining about. ‘
‘Perhaps the fact that after you reeled her in for a week of paradise, you never called her again,’ Cyril groaned as though he didn’t know whether to laugh or scold. ‘Do you know how difficult it was to find another personal trainer when she quit on me? She was so good, too.’
‘Ah well, that’s a shame. I’m terribly sorry.’
Cyril raised his eyebrows again. ‘No you’re not. You’re not sorry at all.’
There was a flash of white teeth. ‘Well, I can’t help it if you don’t believe me.’
‘I just don’t know why you do it, Seb.’
‘Do what? Apologise?’
‘No, always put an end date on your little affairs before they’ve even begun.’
Seb snorted as he took another swig of coffee. ‘Hardly. I usually don’t know until at least after the first date.’
Cyril, however, was not to be put off by humour. ‘You’ve never had a long-term connection to one woman since I’ve known you. Even your own mother.’
‘In my defence,’ he pointed out, ‘that isn’t entirely my fault.’
His mum had been in contact only a handful of times in his teenage years and twice in his twenties. None of those times had been an enriching experience. The connection had been more about her than about him and after he turned twenty-five she had ceased to reach out to him at all. That was more than ten years ago now. He definitely had no desire to reconnect with her in the present. Not after she’d abandoned him at six years old for her drug problem. He did sometimes wonder where she was. Just out of curiosity, of course, but never for any great length of time.
‘Yes, I suppose that’s true,’ Cyril agreed. ‘But you shouldn’t judge the values of every woman you meet upon your mother’s.’
Unbidden, the pretty face of a smart-mouthed waitress intruded upon his senses.
Why black? It’s the colour of your soul and your complete and utter loss of faith in humanity.
He banished the vision of her immediately. Why the comments of someone he was never likely to see again should affect him this much, he had no idea. It was Cyril’s fault. Sometimes the man pushed all the wrong buttons, and yet …
He had nothing but love and respect for the man. Cyril had given him the guidance and support he’d needed at just the right age. Their friendship had begun in response to a favour – a favour that was pretty much unforgettable, though neither of them had spoken of it since.
He had just started working at Hanks and Eddings as the mail clerk; the only job there that didn’t require some sort of qualification.
He walked into Cyril’s office with papers for his in-tray. The managing partner was seated behind his desk, but his chair was pushed out at a comfortable position so that he could peruse the document he was reading. He didn’t look up as Seb leaned across the desk to place the new mail and remove the ones to go out. Mail clerks were tantamount to furniture at this firm.
As Seb straightened to move away, he heard Cyril’s soft gasp. He looked down in time to see a wet patch growing on the crotch of Cyril’s pants. Cyril was also watching it in shock and mortification. The incident was so odd that it took Seb a couple of seconds to realise that the managing partner was actually wetting himself involuntarily. Cyril glanced up, his eyes watery with humiliation. ‘It must be my prostate, I can’t control the fuckin’ thing.’
Since then Cyril had had an operation and thankfully no longer had this problem. At the time Seb remembered feeling deeply sorry for him. Before he could offer any assistance however, the door opened and Pam, Cyril’s secretary, poked her head in. ‘Your ten o’clock, sir.’ Then she stepped back and three people walked in – a client and two partners from the firm, one of whom was Bianca Hanks.
Thinking fast, Seb knocked the glass of water sitting on the edge of Cyril’s desk into his boss’s lap. The fluid went everywhere and then the glass smashed on the floor at their feet. The cracking sound caused the three people entering the room to pause in confusion.
‘Oh shoot, I’m so sorry,’ he said, particularly to Bianca Hanks, who was eyeing him like she would like to serve him up for dinner.
It was a well-known fact around the office that Bianca Hanks was dying to knock Cyril off his perch and usurp his position. Since they had both started at the family firm as young lawyers, they had competed neck and neck to become managing partner, a position held until just recently by Cyril’s older brother, Robert. Bianca had gone so far as to marry the man to increase her chances of being his successor. However, when Robert had left the firm to become a judge, he had chosen his brother instead of his wife to take the reins, giving further proof to the old saying, ‘Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.’
Bianca Hanks took any opportunity she could to undermine Cyril’s authority. Seb may have been low in the pecking order but he was well versed in reading people … particularly the dangerous kind.
He grabbed the box of tissues beside the in-tray and passed it to Cyril. ‘Here you go, sir.’
Cyril met his eyes gratefully for a second longer than necessary. ‘Thank you.’
‘Oh, for goodness sake, Sebastian,’ the other partner at Bianca’s elbow reprimanded him, striding past the client, who was looking rather bewildered. ‘How could you be so careless? He’s soaked.’
‘It was an accident,’ Seb apologised. ‘My hand slipped.’
‘So I saw,’ Bianca threw at him. ‘It seemed almost deliberate.’
‘Hardly,’ he said quietly. ‘Shall I go source you another pair of pants, sir?’
‘That would be ideal,’ Cyril nodded tightly before turning to Bianca. ‘Your abrupt entry startled him, my dear. Next time please ask my secretary to summon me to the boardroom. In the meantime, I think we might have to reschedule.’
‘What are you waiting for?’ Bianca had snapped at Seb. ‘Those pants aren’t going fetch themselves.’
‘Of course.’ Seb nodded and dashed from the room.
After that Cyril had taken a great deal of interest in Sebastian’s progress at the firm. He noticed he was smart, he noticed he was fast and he noticed his phenomenal attention to detail. He’d given him advice and encouraged him to realise his potential. Before Seb knew what was happening he was being sponsored through a law degree and offered a job too. Cyril had been far more paternal towards him than the biological father he had barely known.
And, yes, because of all that he did permit the old man certain liberties, but there were some boundaries he didn’t like anyone to cross.
‘Is there a point to this conversation?’ he demanded.
‘Don’t you want the comfort of companionship? Someone who actually cares if you don’t come home at night?’
He folded his arms. ‘Why do I need someone to care if I don’t come home?’
‘Everybody needs that, Seb. When I was your age I was married with two kids.’
‘Good for you.’
‘Damn straight. Nothing makes this job easier than a good wife, Seb. You need a support system with the hours we do. I don’t know what I’d do without Maggie.’
‘Believe me, Cyril, if I wanted to get married there are plent
y of women out there who would help me out.’ He shuddered. ‘Just the other day I met an interesting piece of work at Seashells on Clarabel Terrace.’
‘Did she propose to you?’
‘No, but when she found out I wasn’t interested, she insulted me.’
‘Insulted you?’
‘Said I clearly had no friends on account of my lack of faith in humanity.’
Cyril chuckled. ‘She might be onto something.’
‘Subterfuge is what she’s onto,’ Seb retorted. ‘Said you were her uncle, too. Haven’t got any hot brunettes in your family, have you?’
Cyril eyed him shrewdly. ‘So she was good-looking, then?’
‘Like a Venus fly trap.’
‘Then, no, she can’t possibly be a member of my family.’ Cyril laughed. ‘None of us has that allure. Of course, I wouldn’t risk any of my loved ones on you after the care you’ve shown my female friends.’
Seb rolled his eyes. ‘You really think I’m that dangerous?’
‘Yes,’ Cyril said simply. ‘You’re not just heartless, Seb, you’re indifferent. I’ve never seen a woman get under your skin. I doubt one ever will, and for that I am very sorry.’
The seriousness of his tone was sobering. ‘Come on, Cyril. You don’t need to worry about me. I know how to enjoy life.’
‘The most enjoyable thing about enjoyment is sharing it with someone else, son,’ Cyril said softly.
‘Have I just stepped onto the set of this year’s Christmas special?’ Seb shook his head at Cyril’s sentimentality.
‘All right, all right,’ Cyril waved his hand. ‘I can tell I’m losing your interest so I’ll explain to you why I called you in here in the first place.’
‘Hallelujah.’
‘You need help.’ Cyril jabbed his finger at him. ‘As in more staff. And I might have found you someone. Another junior lawyer. She’ll be here any minute for her interview.’
Seb couldn’t have been more delighted with this news. ‘Perfect timing, Cyril.’
‘Don’t get too excited just yet.’ Cyril leaned forward to replace his mug on the coffee table. ‘She comes as a gift from my ex-sister-in-law, Bianca Hanks.’
Seb raised an eyebrow. ‘Is Bianca in the habit of sending you gifts now?’
Cyril snorted. ‘What do you think?’
‘What’s she up to then?’
‘I’m not precisely sure, but I have reason to believe that Bianca is unaware of the true nature of the gift she has given me. So we shall see this girl for ourselves and make our choice from there.’ Cyril shrugged. ‘Let the battle of wits begin.’
Chapter 7
Despite the air-conditioning maintaining the temperature of the room at a very mild twenty-two degrees, Claudia was perspiring like a glass of cold Coke on a hot bench. She had been in the waiting room of Hanks and Eddings for the last half hour. Stiffly seated with her knees pressed together on their white leather couch, not daring to take off her jacket because she knew there was a high chance of sweat marks. Luckily, some of Bronwyn’s suits roughly fitted her. They were a little tight around the bust and the skirts were slightly long for her diminutive height but otherwise she had no complaints. The shoes on her feet were of the safe black court variety. She’d bought them in a rush that morning on the way over. They weren’t great but were so benign that they wouldn’t give anyone cause for comment.
She clutched her résumé on her lap but was less focused on this document than the looming suspicion that ‘Uncle Cyril’ was going to be disappointed with whose name he saw on it.
So far there had been no hiccups. The receptionist had accepted her name without any surprise. She was definitely going in for this interview. But could she score the job?
She had tried to outline her skills in her résumé without too much embellishment. Given her limited time in the workforce, there wasn’t that much to add. Coupled with Bianca’s supposed ‘recommendation’, Claudia really wasn’t sure what Bronwyn’s Uncle Cyril would make of it all.
‘Mr Eddings will see you now.’
With a start, Claudia looked up at the receptionist, who was sitting at the desk opposite the couches, the words ‘Hanks and Eddings’ in big block letters on the wall behind her. She was beckoning Claudia to walk through to her left, leading into what could only be described as the firm’s throne room. Claudia stood up, nervously smoothing her skirt with sweaty palms.
‘Er … thanks.’ She straightened her shoulders as though shrugging on a cloak of confidence, and walked briskly through the double doors and into a gorgeous-looking office. The back wall was glass from floor to ceiling, with panoramic views of the city. Cyril Eddings’s desk was centre stage, large and charcoal in colour. Surprisingly, he wasn’t seated in the high-back leather chair behind it, but was standing in front of the desk. He held out his hand to her in greeting.
‘Ah, my dear, thank you for coming. Claudia Franklin, isn’t it?’
‘Yes.’
‘Sorry to have kept you waiting. I’m Cyril Eddings, pleased to meet you.’
Claudia felt herself relax a little as she shook his hand. Remembering quickly the man she had witnessed at the wedding, mild-mannered and easygoing. He had not changed much since she had last seen him. He was still portly, with a full head of salt and pepper hair and a smile that was both sharp and engaging.
‘Oh.’ Her lips stretched into a smile. ‘That’s absolutely no problem at all.’
‘I believe you come to me from Bianca Hanks.’ He tilted his head to one side. ‘How do you know her?’
A bark of laughter erupted from left field, startling Claudia, as she had not previously noticed anyone else in the room.
A low baritone sounded. ‘I’d be surprised if she knows her at all.’
Claudia’s wide eyes veered away from the man in front of her to the one on a couch in a pocket of the room that was out of her direct field of vision. She only just managed to stop her jaw hitting the floor.
The man from the bar.
You’ve got to be kidding me!
He lounged there on one of the couches, one arm stretched out along the back, one leg crossed over the other. He regarded her steadily and without any outward sign of threat. Yet instinctively she knew that she’d be a fool to regard that slight twist to his mouth as anything but suspicious. She glanced quickly at Cyril, who did not seem perturbed by his companion’s statement.
‘Do you know Sebastian Rowlands?’ he asked her, in tones more curious than accusatory.
‘Yes,’ Sebastian answered for her, with predatory satisfaction. ‘She does. This was the woman I met at Seashells. I’m surprised you don’t know her. After all, she is your niece.’
Double crap.
Claudia glanced quickly at Cyril, expecting to be outed immediately. However, he was watching Sebastian with more enjoyment than shock on his face. The man on the couch stood up unhurriedly, buttoning his open jacket and walking towards her, his eyes trained on her face. ‘Are you sure you’re in the right place, er … Claudia, is it?’
The sarcastic lilt to his voice indicated that he believed she was both liar and fraud, and was expecting her to turn tail and run. Her spine stiffened, making her temper flare anew.
‘Definitely. Perhaps you’d like to see my résumé too so that you can satisfy yourself that I am indeed qualified for this position.’
She fished the spare out of her slim, soft leather briefcase and practically shoved it into his hand.
He didn’t look at it.
‘You do realise that this job requires not only university qualifications but admission to the bar and registration as a practitioner with the High Court of Australia?’
‘I satisfy all of those requirements,’ she declared truthfully.
He snorted. ‘You don’t look old enough to have finished uni.’
‘And you don’t seem well mannered enough to speak in corporate circles but you do, don’t you?’ She snapped crossly before she thought better of it.
; At Sebastian’s gasp, Cyril barked with laughter, making her cringe.
‘Well, this is all very intriguing.’ Cyril rubbed his hands together. ‘Please, Claudia, don’t stand there by the door. Come in, come in, I want to hear all about you.’
In truth, she would much rather continue giving Sebastian a piece of her mind, but that wasn’t going to get her this job anytime soon.
Better to pull back.
She allowed herself to be led over to the couches where Cyril handed her a cup of coffee.
‘I have to apologise for my colleague’s rudeness,’ he said. ‘It looks like you’ve made quite an impression on him.’
She took a sip of her coffee as she sat down. The warm, dark liquid mollified her somewhat as it slipped smoothly down her throat. ‘The complete wrong one, obviously.’
Cyril sat beside her. Sebastian, however, continued to stand there, towering over them like a black cloud, threatening to spoil their party. No doubt her bum wasn’t good enough for the furniture either.
‘Well, I for one am most impressed with your credentials,’ remarked Cyril, refilling his own mug. ‘Tell me, my dear,’ he ignored Sebastian, ‘why do you want this job?’
‘Because I’m passionate about the justice system and believe that Hanks and Eddings is a firm at the forefront of legal expertise. I would be honoured to join your team.’
Claudia looked up to meet Sebastian’s glare. His deep brown eyes bored holes in her like the drill bit of a power tool, which did seem a rather apt description given he was a tool on a definite power trip.
‘Excellent, that is all I needed to hear.’ Cyril nodded.
Sebastian choked. ‘Cyril, this lawyer, if she is one, claimed to be a member of your family among other things.’
Claudia bit her lip. He had her there. She had lied about that, after all – in a fit of rage, of course, but it was still a lie.
She braced herself for the humiliating questions to follow. ‘I am so sorry, my dear.’ Cyril leaned towards her. ‘I’m shocking when it comes to names and faces. My family, large as it is, is no exception.’