by Dixon
“Well, it’s nothing pressing, of course, I very much wanted to thank you for your help in setting up my case.” She prowled closer to Nate, making his guard climb higher as he casually dismissed her gratitude for him just doing his job. “Oh, but no, your firm really has been highly supportive during this stressful and lonely time in my life.” Charlotte sniffed, a practiced melancholic smile on her face as she idly sipped at her water. “I am just very appreciative is all. I’m having a hard enough time grieving my beloved Holden without my stepchildren trying to ostracise me from the family like this”—she scoffed a sardonic laugh—“not that it isn’t something they’ve tried to do since I joined the family!”
Nate remained guarded, his face revealing nothing despite him wanting to ask if Charlotte could blame Holden’s kids for having a strong distaste for her; not only was she ages with his offspring and marrying their affluent seventy-year-old father but now she was clearly trying to hijack their inheritance.
“Again, Mrs. Forbes, this firm is here at your disposal,” Nate announced, hoping to shut down the conversation, but Mrs. Forbes had other ideas as she stood before him, waving her hand about expressively, the contents of the tumbler she held worryingly sloshing up the sides of the glass.
“And a fine firm it is—oh my!” Charlotte gasped, her hand waving to motion at the room and inadvertently spilling water down Nate’s crotch and thigh.
Nate recoiled as the ice water saturated the dark fabric of his slacks and stung at his skin. He cursed under his breath swiping his hand down over his lap before stopping short when he found Mrs. Forbes down upon her knees in front of him, his eyes blown out wide.
“I’m so very sorry!” Charlotte fretted, dabbing his thigh with paper napkins. “I’m so jittery these days!”
“That’s quite fine, honestly, I got it!” Nate hissed, trying to take a step back from this erratic woman but finding he was blocked in between her and the table behind him. His hands gripped the wood behind him, his jaw clenched frustratedly, wanting to bark at this nutjob to get off of his damn leg and kick her away like a petulant dog—even if it meant losing money and a client.
He was just about to snap when a loud thud behind him alerted both him and Mrs. Forbes. Snapping around, he saw his saviour set their laptop down onto the table, their hands on their hips with glaciers shooting icicles at him.
“Ava.” Nate’s face lit up, his stomach somersaulting and causing him to worry at the effect his assistant had on him. He felt like a pining schoolboy around her!
“Mr. Brooks,” Ava clipped out, her eyebrows raised expectantly as her glaciers dropped to the woman who was currently clung on to the sides of his thighs. “Am I interrupting?”
Two and two were put together, Nate’s attention snapping between Ava and Mrs. Forbes before he quickly realised what this scene looked like from Ms. Archer’s perspective.
Agh, shit.
Thirteen
The negotiation meeting was long, tiring, and unresolvable. Without a prior brief, Ava had gone into the meeting blind but quickly learned that Charlotte Forbes was the wife to the late Holden Forbes, a seventy-year-old man who owned several well-known whisky distilleries across the isle and had died suddenly from a fatal heart attack. His three children—Jenson, Oliver, and Freya Forbes—were in disputes with Charlotte, accusing their stepmother of trying to steal their inheritance. Whereas Charlotte decreed that the estate was very much a part of her entitlement as much as it was Holden’s children’s.
“Yes, darling, but you can’t settle those types of demands yourself for you are not the only trustee on the will, now are you, Oliver?” Charlotte’s lips lifted into a mocking and provoking smile at her stepson, a man who couldn’t have been that much younger than her with shockingly blonde hair that was tied into a bun at the back his head.
Ava noticed then that all the Forbes children were blonde, with pale blue eyes, looking like they were made in a test tube. The only one not dressed as though they were attending a gala was Freya, a young woman who couldn’t have been much older than Ava’s youngest sister. The girl sat wearing a simple black dress, her thin lips dry and cracked as she gnawed upon them nervously.
Oliver’s face turned a perfect shade of cherry as he rose from his chair and pointed an accusing finger across the table at Charlotte. “You wretched woman! If my father were still here and saw your true colours—”
“We are in agreement that we have reached an impasse on the settlement, yes?” Nate’s voice boomed across Oliver’s as everyone’s attention snapped to him.
Ava couldn’t help but stare too. Her boss was in his element in this environment, the entire room at his disposal as he sat composed as ever at the top of the table and demanded control and order.
Oliver scoffed at Nate, “Well like hell she’s getting the bloody business! She’s already got her claws into my father’s—”
“Good, we are in agreement that this will be settled in court then,” Nate interrupted him casually, not caring for his tantrum, shut his laptop, and glanced at his watch. “We are three minutes over and I have another meeting to attend. Peter, wrap this up and we’ll reconvene in three days’ time.” He rose from his chair, carrying the same aura that a magistrate would as he left the room without so much as a look in anyone’s direction.
As the tense meeting dispersed, Oliver cursed Charlotte’s name to his sister as Peter, acting as Charlotte’s attorney, and the lawyer serving the Forbes children tried and failed to defuse the bickering across the table.
“Freya dear, do try and remember the auction this weekend,” sighed Charlotte.
“We’re still going ahead with that?” Freya squeaked like a mouse.
“You cannot be serious?! It isn’t enough to try and steal what our father wanted for us, now you’re trying to sell his possessions too?” Oliver growled.
“Holden stated it clearly in his will that he wanted to donate his possessions to charity, dear.” Charlotte tilted her chin up before rising to her feet and peering down at them. “You shall all attend and keep face.”
“Father would have wanted it…” Jenson finally broke breath, looking at his brother.
“Fine,” Oliver said as he stood up and glared at his stepmother. “But be sure that I will be accounting for every penny that goes to charity. Come on, Freya.” He motioned at the young girl before dramatically making his exit.
Ava sat there with her teeth clamped on the inside of her lip, staring at Peter’s emeralds, and trying hard not to show her amusement at the Forbes family drama. If she had known this was what usually went down in these types of meetings, she would have brought some popcorn.
“Congrats again.” Ava beamed, her arms wrapped tightly around Sam as the pair returned to the office after a cheerful lunch. “We’ll need to celebrate!”
“Thanks, my lovely— Oh!” Sam pulled back, her face lit up in excitement as she sang, “I almost forgot what is happening in a few weeks…” When Ava didn’t jump on her cue, Sam pushed her away to meet her gaze. “Your birthday, silly!”
“No.”
“Don’t you ‘no’ me! We are getting blitzed whether you like it or not, Mrs!”
“Nuh-uh.” Ava clenched her jaw and shook her head like a petulant child. “I do not wish to celebrate another nail in the coffin.”
“You’re bleeding twenty-eight, not sixty-eight!” Sam scoffed, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms before settling it once and for all. “It’s happening either way because we need to celebrate my happy news anyway, so like it or not, you’re coming out and getting blitzed on bubbles with me.”
“Are all Scottish people alcoholics?” Ava teased.
“Eh, lass, I’ll have ye ken I drank whisky before I drank my maw’s ti—” Sam began to rant but Ava quickly clamped her hand over her friend’s mouth before any more Scottish atrocities came out in the middle of the busy department.
“I have spent way too much time with you; I understood everything that just came out
of your mouth just then,” Ava laughed and lowered her hand. “Okay look, I have to get back to work, but yes, I’ll go out with you and get ‘blitzed’, happy?”
“Yup, elated!” Sam beamed, mocking Ava’s English accent and slowly walking backwards away from her. “Just remember to wear your red coat”—she winked, causing Ava to ask her what the hell she was talking about—“so that I can warn everyone that ‘the red coats are coming’ and yell ‘freedom’, of course!” Sam disappeared around the corner dramatically waving her hand like the Queen, leaving Ava stood there shaking her head in laughter.
It reminded Ava of the day she met Samantha at St Mary’s Boarding School for young ladies. Ava had been stood outside the head mistress’s office pinning flyers to the noticeboard when she saw a young girl, who struggled to follow the strict uniform guidelines, flip off the headmistress as she rounded the corner and bumped straight into an amused Ava. If not for the large sum of inheritance money that Sam’s parents left behind, she doubted that St Mary’s would have put up with years’ worth of Eastley mischief. It was from that moment on that Sam became part of the Archer family, always around at Ava’s family home for Saturday brunch and Sunday roast dinner.
From then on, the duo were inseparable.
Sam was perhaps the craziest and most unhinged person she had ever met, but Ava would be lost without her bringing light and colour into her life. They had the type of friendship where they would look at each other and burst out laughing at absolutely nothing, the type of laughter that made your ribs ache and filled your soul with love.
Samantha Eastley wasn’t just a friend to Ava; she was her soul sister.
It was well past finishing time as Ava slumped into her seat and stared at her screen. After her lunch with Sam, she had worked flat out all afternoon and was still no closer to clearing the mammoth pile of work needing to be done. However, she couldn’t blame the increased workload on Nate anymore as she had seen him hunched over his desk all day in the same manner she had been. It was starting to dawn on Ava that her old man had perhaps been holding back a tsunami of stress from her. She didn’t know what bothered her more: the fact that her father had done this in the first place or the fact that if he hadn’t, Ava could have potentially stopped his stroke from happening if she had just taken on more work. The thought made her feel accountable and sick to her stomach.
Looking through the blinds into Nate’s office she saw him sat there looking utterly spent and exhausted as he dragged his hands down over his face. She hadn’t seen such a vulnerable side to him before and knew if he saw her looking, he’d likely act as though he were in control and coping.
Everyone has two hands: one to help yourself and one to help others, her grandmother had always told her. For some reason, looking at Nate just then, she couldn’t shake the thought from her head.
With a small sigh, she made her way to his office and leaned her hip against his door frame, a sympathetic smile on her lips when he hadn’t noticed her presence and continued yawning and rubbing his eyes.
“Need a hand with anything…boss?” Ava asked with a delicate smile, pushing the last word of that sentence out of her mouth and reminding herself to play nice.
“Ava.” Nate’s heavy eyes sprung up from his desk for the first time in over an hour. “You’re still here?” He knew it was past finishing time but as he glanced down at his clock and saw just how far past home time it was, he couldn’t help but feel bad that the young woman had stayed back as well. “You should head home and get something to eat, Ms. Archer.”
“My name is Ava,” she corrected with a pixie-like smile teasing her features as she pushed off of his door and padded towards the front of his desk, “and you need something to eat also.”
Nate chuffed through his nose, a small appreciative smile on his lips as he sat back in his chair scratching his beard contemplatively and asked, “Do you like Thai?”
Fourteen
“What have you done to my office?” Nate gaped, walking back inside his office carrying the Thai takeout he had gone out for. One section of the floor was covered entirely in pieces of paper, Ava sprawled out across the files on her stomach, heels off as she swung her legs in the air behind her, a highlighter pen in hand.
“I’m finding and securing all of Mr. Forbes’s assets,” Ava chirped, pulling her earphone out with a proud grin on her face that made Nate struggle not to smile in response.
“It’s a mess…”
“Yes, but an organised one,” Ava challenged, pointing her pen up at Nate and shattering his icy demeanour as a small chuckle escaped him.
“Just come and get something to eat.” He shook his head with a simper, sitting down on the two-seater and unloading the takeout cartons onto the table in front of him.
Ava jumped to her bare feet and made her way to Nate’s computer to save her progress when she noticed his screensaver of an impressive white yacht named… “Natalia,” she said aloud causing Nate’s head to snap up in surprise until he saw the image on his monitor. “Nice boat.” She shrugged, not fazed by expensive things as she switched the screen off.
The red haze from the aircraft warning lights sitting atop other skyscrapers oozed into the office in a series of red stripes through the slits in the blinds.
“Do you like dumplings?” Nate asked as he loosened his tie and undid the first two buttons of his shirt.
“I love all Thai food.” Ava beamed, joining Nate on the leather sofa and tucking her legs underneath her as she admired the spread of food on the coffee table. “The only thing missing here is a bottle of vino,” she sighed softly and balanced her noodles on her lap.
“You mean this bottle?” Nate smirked, producing the bottle of wine as if by magic and causing Ava’s eyes to widen.
“Where did you get that?” Ava gawked with a mouthful of dumpling, her eyebrows raised as she pointed a chopstick at the bottle of red. “Are we even allowed to drink that in the office?”
Nate’s expression darkened into one of mischief, a cocky smile on his lips as he pointed at his face and bragged, “Boss.” He watched Ava’s head tip back as melodic laughter bubbled from her rosy lips. “As long as you don’t go telling your pops, my ass ain’t gonna get handed to me for this, and I can do whatever I damn well want.”
“Are all Americans this overly cocky?” Ava teased with her lips pursed playfully and her eyebrow raised.
“Only the good ones, ma’am.” He winked, making Ava’s breath hitch in her throat as her thighs tensed slightly. It was perhaps the first time that his New Yorker drawl had enticed her in such a way.
The night continued with banter and laughter, the bottle of wine nearly finished as half-eaten takeout cartons scattered across the coffee table.
Ava removed her hair from its high ponytail, her roots sighing in relief as she ran her nails through her golden tresses and allowed the unruly and voluptuous waves to tumble down her shoulders.
Nate stared at her as she did, envious of the mug she placed to her lips and in awe of how someone could be so beautiful and not have been snatched by a proud, adoring man. He knew it had to be her doing, that the bold Ms. Archer surely had men lining up at her door, but she refused to be tied down to any of them. Some birds weren’t meant to be caged. She wanted her freedom, and for that, he admired Ava, even if he was envious that he didn’t have the same flexibility in life as her. She was a red moon during a starry night sky.
“Thank you for this,” Nate professed, his plastic coffee mug of wine sitting on the arm of the sofa as he rested his feet on the coffee table.
“For…?” Ava frowned, sweeping her long hair over one side of her head as spirals of silk curtained one half of her face.
“Well, for one, staying back and helping me out, but mainly for this.” His finger waved between the both of them sat comfortably on the leather chesterfield. “It was nice to not think about work for five minutes.” He chuckled, leaning his elbow on the back of the sofa and dragging his nails through hi
s hair, making it softer and less refined.
“Don’t mention it.” Ava smiled sweetly, her back against the arm of the sofa as her long legs filled the space between them. “I guess being the boss has its disadvantages, hm?”
“Yeah, you could say that…but stress is just part and parcel of the job.”
“You should hire Mrs. Forbes to sort that stress out for you then,” Ava uttered, inspecting the ends of her hair, internally berating her bitchy mouth and the wine’s influence on it.
“And what exactly is that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, come on, let’s not pretend that I didn’t see what you were both doing in that empty meeting room today,” Ava scoffed with an eye roll as she teasingly prodded the side of Nate’s thigh with her toe.
“You shouldn’t jump to conclusions,” he stated with eyes down on her foot.
“Shouldn’t I? Oh, please, the woman was on her knees in front of you, grasping your thighs! I might be blonde, but I was certainly not born yesterday, Nate.”
“She intentionally spilt water down me,” Nate countered with a dismissive shrug of his shoulders. “Why she was using seduction as a tactic, and for what reason, I’ll never know.”
“Maybe there was no reason or tact involved,” Ava snipped as she crossed her arms, lifting her shoulders up to her ears as she theorised. “Maybe she was just seducing you for the sake of it.”
Nate couldn’t help but notice the change in Ava’s body language, the coldness of her tone and the lack of eye contact as he teased, “Why, Ms. Archer…are you jealous?”
“Jealous?” Ava scoffed with a sassy eye roll. “And why exactly would I be jealous, Mr. Brooks?”
“You tell me.”
Ava met his testing gaze but yielded first, her icy manner shattering as she giggled. She kicked at his thigh again, this time with a little more force, but yelped as Nate suddenly grabbed her foot and pulled it onto his lap.