The Grass is Greener

by Loretta Hill

  Luckily, Nelson seemed genuinely pleased to see her.

  ‘You’ll take the pressure off me,’ he confessed. ‘I don’t think I’ve been working fast enough for Seb. I can feel his frustration through the glass walls sometimes.’

  There was certainly something coming through those glass walls. It was strange to be able to fully observe Sebastian in his fish tank of an office without being able to converse or communicate with him. That first morning, when she arrived, he didn’t even come out to greet her, just kept fielding calls. His jacket was off, hanging on a hook by the door. His white shirt moulded around his broad shoulders when he reached for the phone and outlined his generous bicep. It looked like Sebastian’s strength was physical as well as corporate. Blinking fast and turning away to halt this unsettling train of thought, she refocused on Nelson.

  ‘So what do I do?’ she whispered. ‘Do I knock on his office door and ask for work?’

  Nelson looked horrified. ‘You never interrupt Sebastian unless invited to do so. I reckon, if you want to know what’s going on, ask Juliet. The secretaries know everything around here.’

  It was a universal truth of most law firms that if the partners ran the show, it was the administrative staff who held the balance of power. A secretary was a lawyer’s right hand. He or she handled all his files, knew all his secrets and was closer to him than a spouse … if he had one. Most lawyers were divorced or in the process of becoming so.

  Claudia sighed. That was one aspect of this career she wasn’t planning on adopting, but it didn’t mean she didn’t get the rules. Juliet Nesbit sat on the other side of Nelson. She’d had a set of earphones on while they were talking and was busy typing a document. Claudia tentatively approached her desk.

  Juliet’s eyes remained on her screen, but she held up a finger to Claudia while she inserted a full stop and then a comma into the text, before pulling off her earphones and addressing her. ‘You must be Claudia.’

  Claudia held out her hand cheerfully. ‘Yes, very nice to meet you.’

  ‘Likewise.’ Then Juliet cut to the chase. ‘Seb wants you to look at these.’

  She drew three huge black foolscap files from under her desk and placed them on top with a loud thwack. Claudia took a breath.

  Day One. Three cases.

  ‘Wow,’ her eyes widened. ‘That’s a lot of work.’

  ‘What were you expecting?’ Juliet’s eyes narrowed.

  Rule number one when it came to this profession was that work was your friend.

  Your best friend.

  A good caseload meant good billables, good billables meant a healthy timesheet, and for a lawyer who wanted a positive career trajectory, the numbers were all that mattered. She hadn’t thought Sebastian would be this kind to her, though she wasn’t going to tell his secretary that.

  ‘Okay.’ Juliet leaned heavily on the files. ‘Let me give you some idea. You work for Sebastian Rowlands. That means long hours, no weekends, no boyfriend, no social life to speak of except for the occasional takeaway dinner in a meeting room with myself or Nelson or the man himself, if he deigns you smart enough to keep up with him. You live work, you breathe work. At no point in the day do you not think like a lawyer because that’s the point you will get screwed. And if you get screwed the firm gets screwed and we all suffer. Get it?’

  ‘Absolutely.’ Claudia stood straighter, unable to keep the grin from her face. She was definitely not complaining. This was why she was here, to submerge herself in the profession she loved, like it was a nice hot bubble bath. ‘Thanks.’

  Juliet Nesbit sniffed as though she were hoping for a little more snivelling and Claudia quickly scraped the files off her desk, turned tail and made her way back to her desk.

  She worked solidly for the next couple of hours before lunch. Then when the other lawyers left their desks to buy sandwiches, she rang Casuarina Prison. Bronwyn had, after all, charged her with the task of dropping in on Peter Goldman. She had better see what she could do. When she tried to make an appointment to see him, however, she got a rather disturbing piece of news from one of the prison officers.

  ‘Peter Goldman went into hospital this morning with a couple of broken ribs after being attacked at breakfast by one of his fellow inmates.’

  Claudia did not like the sound of this at all. She sat up straighter. ‘Was the attack provoked?’

  ‘We are still investigating but from what we know of Bruce Carle, the attacker, he’s a loose cannon. He picks fights like this all the time. He said he didn’t like the way Peter looked at him.’

  ‘Right,’ Claudia swallowed. ‘Thank you for your time.’

  She put the phone down, chewing hard on her bottom lip. What now?

  Her fingers brushed over her keyboard and she brought up Google. Fifteen minutes and several old news articles later, she had a much clearer picture of who Bruce Carle was. The man was in prison for murder, though it wasn’t the only death he was suspected of causing. Bruce Carle was a minion of Leon McCall, an organised crime boss who had fingers in all sorts of illegal pies. Drugs, prostitutes, smuggling. Claudia knew his name as soon as she read it. His face was always being splashed over the media. He was one of those celebrity criminals who shamelessly flaunted his ill-gotten gains with extravagant and eccentric spending. Leon McCall had interests in precious gems, luxury cars and women half his age. He’d been married at least five times. She’d heard the latest spouse was an ex-swimsuit model eager to make a name for herself on the charity scene.

  As for Leon’s illegal activities, the police hadn’t been able to nail him because he hid behind his legitimate businesses, letting his followers, such as Bruce Carle, dirty their hands instead.

  Any connection to Leon was not good news.

  She looked up the court documents that detailed Peter’s trial and sentencing, which were now part of public record. His crime was fraud. Setting himself up as a land developer, he’d siphoned money from his clients’ investments. There didn’t really seem to be any connection between him and Leon McCall … yet.

  She sent Bronwyn a brief text message which read, ‘Is there any way Peter Goldman could be connected to Leon McCall?’

  A second later her phone rang. It was Bronwyn, so she quickly picked it up. ‘Leon McCall!’ her best friend cried. ‘Are you trying to freak me out?’

  ‘Sorry. There’s just been a bit of a development here.’ She quickly outlined for Bronwyn what had happened.

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘So you see, it’s just one path of investigation I have to rule out. Please tell me I can.’

  ‘I … I think you can,’ Bronwyn said slowly, as though she were ticking off boxes in her head. Just as Claudia was starting to breathe a sigh of relief, Bronwyn corrected herself. ‘Wait! He’s a gambler.’

  ‘A what?’

  ‘Peter is a high-stakes gambler. He used his fraudulent earnings to fund his habit. Loved the casino, was there all the time when he wasn’t ripping people off. It’s no wonder his wife hates him.’

  Great.

  Leon McCall was notorious for this vice as well. His wins and losses at the Crown were legendary.

  ‘Do you think they ever played each other?’ Claudia asked.

  ‘I have no idea.’

  ‘It still makes no sense. If Peter owes Leon money, then what does that have to do with Elsa?’

  ‘Well, we’re just guessing here,’ Bronwyn suggested. ‘Maybe we’re guessing wrong. Maybe it has nothing to do with Elsa. Maybe it’s all just a big coincidence. After all, didn’t the prison officer say that Bruce Carle had a quick temper and was notorious for causing trouble just because?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Then?’

  ‘Then I hope you’re right, but the only way to know for sure is to question Peter myself. I’m going to have to go to that hospital and ask him.’

  Bronwyn sighed. ‘I’m sorry I’m putting you through all this, Claud, especially on your first week at work. Maybe you should just leave it alone.
’

  ‘Why on earth would I do that?’

  ‘Well, I’m perfectly safe here. Nobody knows where I am, except for you. I haven’t been to Oak Hills in a couple of years so it shouldn’t fall under immediate suspicion, especially with those people who don’t even know me.’

  Claudia snorted. ‘I’d rather be safe than sorry. Don’t give it another thought, I’m doing this. So you better let me get back to calling Casuarina Prison. I’ll have to see if I can schedule that appointment with their inmate, after all.’

  They said their goodbyes and rang off.

  ‘Hitting the ground running, I see?’ Nelson smiled as he returned to his desk, a ham and salad roll in one hand, a juice bottle in the other. ‘Already working through lunch.’

  ‘Er … yeah.’ She clicked the article about Leon McCall she’d been reading off her computer screen, hoping he hadn’t heard her mention Casuarina to Bronwyn either. As she drew a large black file to the front of her desk, he bent his head to read the spine.

  ‘The Cornwall case. That’s a good one.’

  ‘Yes it is,’ she agreed, glad to have diverted his attention.

  ‘So where did you work before this?’ Nelson asked as he sat down. ‘I haven’t seen you around town before.’ He flushed. ‘I mean, at court that is.’

  She knew he was referring to the day they’d first met at Seashells under very different circumstances.

  Nelson winced. ‘I should, er … probably apologise for my behaviour that day. Seb and I … we were out of line.’

  He’s apologising!

  Claudia couldn’t help but see the irony in this when his boss, the main culprit, had offered her no such courtesy at all.

  ‘That’s all right. I know you didn’t mean to insult me.’

  Nelson paused, eyeing her uncertainly. ‘I know you were furious at Seb and probably still are but I’m sure he feels bad about his mistake.’

  Claudia choked.

  ‘He’s not really that mean a guy,’ Nelson rushed on. ‘He’s been really kind to me and …’ He trailed off, reddening again, which piqued Claudia’s interest.

  ‘And what?’ she prompted gently.

  ‘It’s just that,’ Nelson shrugged rather self-consciously, ‘I’m not quite sure why he picked me.’

  If Claudia was brutally honest with herself, she wasn’t sure why Sebastian had picked Nelson either. Of all the junior lawyers she had met so far at Hanks and Eddings, Nelson was actually nice, which was an attribute that didn’t work strongly in his favour. He’d been friendly, charming and extremely helpful since she’d arrived, if a little anxious. Until now, she had thought that Nelson had been allocated to Sebastian perhaps by Cyril, to lift the young man’s self-esteem. She had heard Nelson speaking several times on the phone and winced. He stammered hopelessly through his instructions with clients. He apologised far too often to people he was suing and he seemed to be driven by nerves all the time. She’d even seen him jump a couple of times when the email alert sounded on his computer.

  It was very odd that Sebastian had chosen Nelson to mentor. The knowledge did kind of mess with the two-dimensional image of him she had in her head.

  ‘I mean,’ Nelson wrung his hands self-consciously, ‘you should meet some of the other lawyers on this floor.’

  Claudia already had.

  There was one girl called Anna Mavis who fancied herself the alpha of the group and had already tried to make sure that Claudia was aware of her place in the pecking order.

  After introducing herself, Anna pointed out how lucky she was that her desk was facing a window. It wasn’t a particularly good view, Anna could only see into the building next door. However, by contrast, Claudia’s desk faced a wall. A wall on which hung a fire extinguisher and the safety warden’s helmet. There was no comparison.

  Like Nelson, Anna too tried to dig deeper into Claudia’s past, though with more sinister intent. Claudia told her exactly what she had told Nelson. She named the firm she had worked for as a graduate and then said she’d taken a couple of years off to spend time with her family.

  All of which was perfectly true.

  There was no need to go into details and, given Cyril’s mistake, she hoped to steer clear of that topic as much as possible. As for the interview mix-up, Sebastian had so far made good on his word. There was no hint of her deception floating around the office. And she was finally starting to feel safe that it would never come out.

  It was unfortunate that she had completely forgotten that the lie about being an Eddings had not started in Cyril’s office. The first time she’d told it was at Seashells, when Nelson had also been present.

  And sadly no one had sworn him to secrecy.

  Chapter 10

  Sebastian always grabbed his morning coffee from the street-corner cafe, Costello’s, a five-minute walk from Hanks and Eddings. Thursday morning was no exception. What he didn’t expect was to bump into his junior lawyer, Claudia, in the line.

  He refrained from bringing his presence to her notice immediately, content to just study her for a moment in dissatisfaction. He still hadn’t quite decided what he was going to do with her. When she had started yesterday he’d sent her a few files and decided to wait and see if she sank or swam. This time they were going to play by his rules, not hers.

  Watching her unguarded movements was actually quite liberating.

  Since their second meeting, in Cyril’s office, he had noticed that she only wore her hair up, in a loose but professional chignon. Almost as though dressing in that way improved her chances of being taken seriously. It was definitely a far cry from the sexy disarray she had sported in the hotel bar the day they’d first met, yet it did not detract from her youthful beauty. He certainly felt the age gap between them when the barista, a good ten years younger than him, started flirting with her. He gritted his teeth.

  Despite having been served by the same young man almost every day for the past two years, this was the first time Sebastian had bothered to read his name tag.

  Tom Rubin. Assistant Manager.

  He wore a dark T-shirt printed with the words ‘Ten cents from every coffee bought here goes to the Lucas Foundation.’

  ‘So I haven’t seen you around before,’ Tom said to Claudia as he held his silver milk jug under the steamer. ‘Have you just started working in the area?’

  ‘Hanks and Eddings,’ Claudia responded shyly.

  ‘A lawyer.’ Tom raised his eyebrows as though impressed. ‘You must be super smart.’

  ‘I get by.’ Claudia shrugged. ‘I like your T-shirt. What’s the Lucas Foundation?’

  ‘It’s a charity dedicated to helping young people with drug and alcohol addictions get off the streets and return to their families.’

  ‘That’s really great.’

  Tom pressed a lid onto her takeaway cup. ‘Yeah. We’re having a big fundraiser in a couple of weeks actually. A special breakfast here.’ He grabbed a flyer off the counter and passed it to her. ‘You should come.’

  ‘I think I will.’ Claudia smiled.

  She turned around then and almost walked straight into him. ‘Sebastian!’ she gasped.

  He inclined his head. ‘Claudia.’

  She hesitated, as though unsure whether to continue the conversation, then said finally, ‘I’ll see you back at the office.’

  ‘You will,’ he agreed and stepped forward to order his own coffee, but Tom was busy waving at her.

  ‘See ya, Claudia!’

  ‘Er … yeah,’ she said quickly under Sebastian’s hard stare. ‘Catch you later.’

  They met again in the foyer of Hanks and Eddings outside the lifts. She seemed uncomfortable by the silence that stretched between them so he made no effort to break it. She was probably wondering why he hadn’t come to see her yet, welcomed her to the office, so to speak.

  Ha! Did she deserve a welcome?

  ‘Thanks for the files yesterday.’ She sipped her coffee. ‘Let me know if there’s anything you want me to go thr
ough with you.’

  ‘Of course.’

  She shuffled from foot to foot when he said nothing more. To his amusement, she then tried to engage him in small talk.

  ‘So I think I might put this on the noticeboard in the kitchen.’ She lifted the flyer she was holding. ‘Might be a good thing for everyone to attend.’

  ‘I’m sure, though I think Tom was extending the invitation mostly to you rather than the entire firm.’

  ‘Tom?’

  ‘The barista you were flirting with.’

  ‘His name was Tom?’ To his annoyance her eyes lit momentarily with interest. ‘He didn’t mention –’ Hastily she cut herself off, cleared her throat and glared at him. ‘I mean, I wasn’t flirting with him.’

  ‘My mistake,’ he said drily.

  She frowned. Inwardly, he was wondering why he cared so much that his inference had been right. Those two were well suited to each other. Similar in age, and if the fundraiser was anything to go by, both carrying backpacks of idealism on their shoulders.

  As if to prove his point she said, ‘I happen to believe in this cause, it sounds like an extremely worthy charity.’

  ‘Is that so?’

  The lift doors opened and they both stepped in. ‘Drug addiction, any sort of addiction really, places a lot strain on families.’ She pressed the number of their floor. The lift doors closed.

  Unwilling to get into a conversation he knew all too much about, he turned the topic back on her. ‘Family means a lot to you, I take it.’

  ‘For many years,’ Claudia nodded, ‘it’s been my everything.’ Belatedly, she seemed to realise to whom she was talking, squared her shoulders and cleared her throat. ‘I mean, with things like addiction, those important family relationships are the first to break down. Bringing people back together after trauma –’