by Carrie Elks
Lucy didn’t say anything for a moment, but stood there, looking at her boss. Then she painted a smile on her face and walked over to join him at the conference table. ‘Everything’s fine,’ she said, not quite meeting his eye.
‘Hello, Lucy,’ Lachlan said.
She looked up, and he felt the tightness in his stomach disappear. ‘Lachlan.’ Her voice betrayed nothing, and yet he could see there was a tenseness to her expression that wasn’t there before. ‘How are you?’
‘I’m good. I didn’t realise you were in London.’ And he didn’t like it. He’d spent the last few days imagining her in Scotland, surrounded by misty rain and sandstone buildings.
She reached out for the glass of water in front of her. Was her hand shaking? ‘Just for today. We fly back this evening. Malcolm had some business here, and I had something I needed to do.’
He bit down the urge to ask her what.
‘You sound as busy as Lachlan,’ John said. ‘He’s always on an airplane, too.’
Lucy looked up again, her eyes meeting his. Lachlan noticed a wariness that he hadn’t seen before. ‘Maybe that’s why she gets me,’ he said, smiling.
She didn’t smile back. What was going on? Was she regretting their weekend in Paris? Lachlan didn’t like the idea of that. Those days had been magical, sensual, and he wanted her to remember them that way.
‘Lucy, maybe you could get the ball rolling with an update on where we currently are?’ Malcolm prompted. He was looking confused too.
‘Yes, of course.’ Lucy leaned down for her bag, pulling her files out. When she sat back up, her expression was impassive. ‘Shall we start with the most recent correspondence from Duncan MacLeish’s solicitors?’
For the next twenty minutes they discussed the case, with Malcolm and John occasionally interjecting, and Lucy calmly answering their questions. They didn’t seem to notice that she missed a beat a couple of times, nor that she answered a couple of their questions wrongly. They didn’t notice an edge to her voice that wasn’t usually there.
But Lachlan did. He had to grit his teeth every time she spoke.
As the meeting came to an end, and Malcolm and John were exchanging pleasantries, Lachlan found himself leaning in to the speaker. ‘Lucy, can you stay behind for a moment?’ he asked. ‘There’re a couple of things I want to go through with you. One on one.’
She picked up her glass and took a mouthful of water, her neck undulating as she swallowed it down. ‘I’m not sure how long we have before we need to leave for the airport,’ she said, glancing at Malcolm.
‘You’re fine. I have another meeting before we go. And this room is free for the rest of the afternoon.’
‘Oh, okay.’ Lucy nodded, but didn’t look at the camera. Lachlan stared straight at her, as if willing her to look at him.
John stood, and stretched out his arms. ‘Well, I need to head to another meeting, too. It was great to see you again, Malcolm, and you too, Lucy.’ He turned to Lachlan. ‘I’ll call you later, okay?’
Lachlan nodded. ‘Sure.’
As soon as the two older men left the room, Lucy looked at him. ‘Once again, I apologise for my lateness. I hope I didn’t cause any problems.’
‘I don’t care about your lateness,’ Lachlan said.
‘Oh. What was it you wanted to talk about then?’ Her face remained impassive. ‘Did you get the figures from Alistair for the renovations?’
‘I don’t want to talk about the lodge, Lucy.’
She said nothing.
He could feel himself tense up. ‘I just wanted to check if you were all right.’
‘I’m absolutely fine.’
‘Bullshit.’ Where was the woman she’d been in Paris? She’d opened up to him like a flower, slowly unfurling her petals one by one. But right now she was so tightly closed he couldn’t see any colour at all.
She looked shocked at his outburst. Finally, a reaction. He wanted to shout hallelujah. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ she said firmly. ‘Did I miss something? Are you unhappy with my work?’
‘You know I’m not.’
‘Then what’s the problem?’
A flash of frustration washed through him. ‘I’m not the one with a problem. You’re the one who arrived late and then acted like a robot for the whole meeting. What’s going on?’
‘I thought you said you didn’t care about my being late.’
‘For fuck’s sake, Lucy, what’s wrong? You’re acting weird. What kind of personal business were you attending to?’
She wasn’t looking at him again. Damn, if they were in the same room he’d be tipping her chin with his finger until she couldn’t avoid him. ‘Lucy, what’s wrong?’ he asked, trying to keep his voice softer.
‘It’s… it’s nothing.’ She tried to smile, but her bottom lip trembled. ‘Just family business.’
‘What kind of family business?’ He wanted to run his thumb along that lip, feel its softness.
‘My father’s not well. I went to visit him.’
‘I didn’t know your father was sick.’ A mixture of sadness and relief washed over him. He hated seeing her upset, but was so goddamned pleased it wasn’t him that had made her that way.
‘We moved him into a care home a few weeks ago. I went to visit him this morning, to see how he’s getting on.’
Lachlan quickly took a sip of water. ‘And how is he?’
When she looked up, her eyes were shining. Christ, was she crying? ‘He… he didn’t recognise me.’ She covered her mouth with her hand, barely stifling a sob. For a moment she closed her eyes, and he could hear her inhale a deep breath. Without thinking, he reached out, then pulled his hand back again.
He didn’t say anything for a minute, letting her collect herself. Finally she took her hand away, reaching for her water. ‘I’m so sorry, this is really unprofessional.’
‘I don’t give a damn about being professional,’ Lachlan told her. ‘We’re more than that, aren’t we?’
Were they? There was that tightness again.
She tried to smile, and it looked genuine, in spite of the tears. ‘Yeah, I guess we are.’
‘Remember what we talked about in Paris?’ he said gently. ‘I just want you to be honest with me. Always.’
She took in another ragged breath. ‘I am.’
‘Good. And I’m so sorry about your father. Are you going to be okay?’
She gave a watery laugh. ‘I will be once I’ve gone to the bathrooms and sorted out my make-up,’ she said. ‘Honestly, I’ll be fine. It was a shock and I hated it, but it’s just the way it is. He’s only going to get worse, not better.’
Where had he heard that before? Lachlan scratched his jaw, then nodded at her. ‘Okay, go wash your face, get your make-up on, and I’ll talk to you soon.’
She looked straight into the camera. ‘I will. Thank you, Lachlan.’
‘You’re welcome. And Lucy?’
‘Yeah?’
‘Even when you have eyes like a panda, you still look beautiful.’
21
I understand a fury in your words
– Othello
It was ten o’clock that night when she finally made it home. She was still wearing the suit she’d put on that morning, wheeling her small carry-on case behind her. Searching through her bag, she found her key and slid it into the lock, pushing the door open to walk inside.
Home sweet home. And it really did smell sweet. Elena had been – she could tell by the way everything looked neat and tidy, and the floral smell of the cleaning fluids she used. Lucy wheeled her suitcase in, then turned to close the door, but before she could the familiar flash of orange fur slid past her.
She tried to reach for the cat, but she was too quick, heading straight for the kitchen. Kicking the door closed, Lucy decided to worry about the intruder later. Maybe she’d even let her stay for a while, curl up on her lap. Goodness knew, a little bit of warmth and contact might do them both some good.
S
he slid off her shoes and placed them carefully in the hall closet, then shrugged off her jacket and hung it on a padded hanger, next to her other coats – some of them still in their dry-cleaning wrappers. As she turned to walk into the kitchen, she saw the huge bouquet of flowers in a large glass vase on the table. Reaching out to touch the petals, she saw a white card nestled in the bouquet.
The cat slinked around her legs, her silky-soft fur caressing her ankles, as Lucy opened up the card. Unfolding it, she saw a simple print-out stuck to the inside.
Thinking of you. Lachlan x
She traced the printed words with her finger, then looked back at the flowers. White calla lilies were mixed with the palest of pink roses, weaved in among blush orchids and a spray of heather. She breathed them in for a moment, then smiled a genuine smile for what felt like the first time in forever.
He was her client, and for a few days he’d been her lover, too. And right now, he was being a friend, and that touched her more deeply than she could say.
She grabbed her phone and walked into the living room, the cat following at her heels. When she sat down, the tabby jumped onto the sofa, then curled against her leg.
The call connected in less than twenty seconds. When he answered, his deep voice echoing down the line, her smile widened.
‘Lachlan,’ she said, reaching out to stroke the cat beside her. ‘It’s Lucy, I just called to thank you for the flowers.’
‘What are you doing right now?’ Lachlan leaned back in his leather chair, crossing his ankles on the desk. Outside his office window, the New York sky was beginning to darken, the early-evening sun slipping her anchor and sliding down towards the tops of the tall buildings.
‘Is this a personal or a professional call?’ Lucy asked. Her voice sounded like a laugh.
It had been a couple of weeks since she’d called to thank him for the bouquet of flowers, and somehow they’d drifted into the habit of talking in the evenings before she went to bed.
And yes, it was way beyond the normal client–lawyer relationship, but quite frankly he couldn’t give a shit. He looked forward to these conversations all day.
‘Does it matter?’ he asked.
‘Of course. If it’s professional, I’ll need to bill you. Plus, I’m already working on a contract for another client, so you’ll have to call me back in the morning.’
‘Are you teasing me?’
‘Maybe.’ She let the word stretch out.
‘I don’t like you working for anybody else,’ Lachlan told her. ‘You should be spending all your time on me. Why aren’t I the Laird of Glencarraig yet?’
‘The wheels of law turn slowly here. We’re dealing with centuries of history, you know. Why are you in such a hurry?’
‘Maybe I just want the estate,’ he said. ‘It impresses all the girls.’
‘Oh, does it indeed?’
‘It impressed you,’ he said softly.
‘Yes, it did.’
A knock at the door pulled his attention from the call. He looked up to see Grant walking in, carrying a steaming mug of coffee. Lachlan covered the mouthpiece. ‘Thank you.’
‘I’m heading out, we’ve got a pre-natal class. See you tomorrow?’
Lachlan nodded. ‘See you then.’
‘Everything okay?’ Grant lingered, giving him a quizzical look.
‘Everything’s fine. I’ve just got to take this call.’ Lachlan inclined his head towards his cellphone.
‘Okay then. Have a good evening.’
‘You, too.’
‘And say hi to her from me.’ With that, Grant left the room. Lachlan rolled his eyes at the closing door, lifting the phone back to his ear.
‘Sorry about that. My assistant was just leaving.’ He picked up the coffee, taking a sip. ‘Now, where were we?’
‘You were impressing me,’ Lucy told him.
‘That’s right. Maybe I can impress you again some time.’
‘Is that a euphemism?’ she asked, her voice warm with humour. ‘Am I supposed to tell you how impressive you are?’
‘Feel free.’ He grinned to himself.
‘Haven’t you got anything better to do than chat up somebody thousands of miles away? You know, like some work?’
‘I’m working,’ Lachlan protested, pulling his emails up on his laptop as if to make a point. ‘I can multitask, you know.’
‘What are you doing?’
‘I’ve been reading my emails.’ He wasn’t sure why he was lying. To make a point? God knew which one.
‘That’s funny. I sent you an email five minutes ago, and got a delivery receipt straight away. Did you see it?’
‘I saw it flash up, but I haven’t checked it yet.’
‘What a shame, it’s a naked photo. I’ll recall it,’ she deadpanned. ‘You’re not reading your emails, are you? I haven’t met a man yet who can multitask.’
‘You’re being very sexist, Miss Shakespeare. Assuming I can’t multitask, and then thinking I’ll be distracted by naked photos. What kind of man do you think I am?’
‘Have you checked it yet?’
‘Of course I have. It’s a letter, not a photograph. And I’m disappointed now. I wanted naked Lucy.’
‘You’ve had naked Lucy.’
And he wanted her again. It was driving him crazy. ‘Come and see me this weekend. I’ll arrange for a flight.’
‘I can’t just fly out at the drop of a hat,’ she said. ‘And anyway, I’m busy this weekend.’
He traced his lip. ‘Then when can I see you?’ he asked her.
‘In court?’
He laughed. ‘Is that a threat?’
‘I was thinking it was more of a promise.’ Her voice was softer. He glanced at the clock on his office wall. It was nearly seven p.m. in New York, which meant it was almost midnight in Edinburgh. Strange how he added five hours onto everything nowadays. When he arrived in the office, he automatically knew it was lunchtime in Edinburgh, and on the rare occasions he actually had time for lunch himself, he’d imagine Lucy walking home through the wet streets of Edinburgh, avoiding the huge puddles that gathered in the uneven pathways.
In short, he was obsessed, and he knew it, dammit. He just didn’t know what the hell to do with that knowledge.
‘You should get to bed,’ he said, leaning back in his chair.
‘And you should go home and eat something,’ she replied, sounding tired. ‘Before you waste away.’
‘Good night, Lucy.’
‘Good night.’
‘Same time tomorrow?’
There was a smile in her voice when she replied. ‘I’ll be here.’
As far as he was concerned, it was a date.
‘Try not to worry, we caught it early this time. I know it looks frightening, but she’s in the best place.’ The nurse turned to look at him as she adjusted the monitor above his mother’s head. He didn’t recognise her from last time his mother was here – maybe she was new.
Lachlan nodded, trying to ignore the way every muscle in his body seemed to ache. He should be used to this by now – the frantic phone calls, the rushed booking of airline tickets, the crazy dash to the airport.
In all the madness he’d missed his evening call with Lucy, and not being able to speak with her was making him edgy. Like the time he’d given up caffeine, and his whole body got the jitters. He’d lasted less than two days without it. He was pretty sure he’d last even less without speaking with her.
The nurse gave him a sympathetic smile. ‘The night doctor will be around in half an hour. Why don’t you go and grab a coffee? It’s really not that bad for a hospital.’
Lachlan couldn’t be bothered to disagree, even though he knew better.
It all felt so familiar – the walk to the café through the whitewashed corridors, the electric doors that seemed to open in a rush. The empty chairs, the barista leaning on the counter looking as bored as hell. Lachlan played his role, ordering the coffee, tapping his phone against the reader, carrying the
Styrofoam cup over to the corner. He sipped it for a moment, not sure whether the extra shot he’d ordered made it taste worse or better.
He rested his head back on the wall, sighing, his eyes closing long enough for his breath to even out, his body relaxing into the chair. When he came back to reality with a start, half an hour had passed, and his coffee had gone cold. Stretching his arms, he walked back to the counter and ordered another one, this time determined to stay awake.