Legally Addicted (11 page)

That much skin exposure by an attractive young woman would usually send his mind wandering, but today nothing could divert his attention.

‘No-one’s ever gotten through to her?’

‘Nope. Not so far.’

‘Got any advice, Miriam? From what I’ve seen, you seem to have a pretty good working relationship with her.’

He closed the file he had been working on and leaned back in his chair, giving her his full concentration.

‘It’s taken me three years to break through that tough exterior of hers.’

‘Three years.’ He whistled. ‘Could it be achieved sooner?’

‘Possibly, but it depends on your stamina, and how much emotional torture you think you can take.’

‘That tough?’

Miriam nodded.

‘It was twelve months before I could get Georgia to talk about anything other than work. She had almost bitten my head down to a stub by the time I got her to so much as grab a coffee with me.’

‘So what do I need to do?’

‘Look, I’ve been down this road before, and so far no man has had what it takes. I’m not wasting my breath again unless you really mean it.’

‘I mean it.’

‘And?’

‘Georgia is worth it.’

‘And?’

He was trying to work out what more he could say to emphasise the strength of his conviction when Miriam ran a thumb across her adjacent fingertips, several times in quick succession. He frowned, but the plucky secretary stared him down.

‘If you’re going to be like that, then forget it. I don’t respond well to extortion attempts — never have.’

He wasn’t about to be played, not even to get the information he needed about Georgia. Any request for money gave him a sick feeling inside. Even though it went with the territory, he would never be able to get used to it. A request for money was usually the first signal that a friendship or relationship wasn’t genuine, and he was about to get used for something.

‘Okay. It was worth a try.’ Miriam laughed, as if she had never expected to get away with her clumsy attempt to shake him down anyway. ‘First you need to get her to let you in, to open up to you about her past and what it is that frightens her so much about getting into something serious.’

‘So how do I do that?’

‘If I knew that, one of the multitudes would already be dating her. That’s for you to figure out. I only know how I got through to her, but I’m guessing you aren’t into chick flicks, women’s fashion, or girl talk.’

She was right about that.

‘Any other pointers?’

‘You have to find a way to make her feel like the battle is over and she’s made it, preferably in a public way that gets acknowledged. Georgia is very driven, and until she feels she’s got where she’s going, I don’t know where a man would fit into her life.’

‘And?’

‘You have to support her, especially against anyone who runs her down, or who casts aspersions on her unfortunate background.’

‘From what I’ve seen she seems strong enough to stand up for herself.’

Miriam rolled her eyes.

‘She is, but that’s not the point. Even the most capable woman appreciates it when Sir Galahad shows up occasionally.’

‘Anything else I need to know?’

‘No, that about covers it.’

‘That’s all?’

Miriam inclined her head towards him with an expression that seemed to be querying the level of his IQ.

‘Yeah, okay, that’s probably enough of a tall order,’ he said, after reflecting on the enormity of the task.

‘Good luck. You’ll need it.’

Left with that rather demoralising vote of precious little confidence, Brad returned to skimming Georgia’s entry in the office calendar on his computer. She had the usual array of client appointments and court appearances. The only non-work related entries were the nights she was rostered on at the women’s shelter. He pulled up his own diary. Every other shift coincided with the shelter board meetings.

Maybe, in that environment near where she had grown up, he could get her to relax and talk about herself.

After Georgia had almost opened up to him outside at the beach house, before Dayton and Llewellyn arrived and ruined the moment, it had dawned on him that although he might have seen every inch of her body, he hardly knew anything about her. Engineering a meeting on her own turf might be a good way to get her to let her guard down.

Chapter Eight

Georgia sat at the reception desk of the shelter where she was doing the evening shift. With a heavy court schedule over the last couple of days she had managed to avoid meeting Brad, but she knew that with her shift coinciding with the shelter board meeting, her luck was probably about to run out.

Oh well. She had to face him some time.

At least with several international studies on addiction centres spread out in front of her, she had plenty she needed to be concentrating on other than the awkwardness of having to speak with Brad for the first time since taking off on him.

Again.

If Caro Marsden wanted a formal business proposal then that is what she would get. She wasn’t going to give the woman another excuse to refuse to put her ideas in front of the shelter board.

Georgia chewed the end of her pen. Summarising the findings from the studies into short and punchy sentences wasn’t coming easily. Ever since the weekend, her concentration had been all over the place. Earlier that afternoon, a family court judge had been forced to repeat himself three times after Georgia’s mind had gone AWOL, deep into the heart of Spencer Town.

Ever since she had seen the new, authentic Brad in his basic unpretentious beach house, it was as if she had been balanced on a knife edge.

She felt like she was trapped, at the top of a precipice contemplating a base jump and the equal chances that her parachute would open giving the exhilarating trouble free ride that Miriam was plumping for, or jam up, resulting in a smash up of epic proportions that would leave her rebuilding her career.

All of which assumed, of course, that Brad was willing to ever speak to her again, after she had done a runner.

But right now she had to finish this report and there was so much she wanted to say, but the board members were all busy people so it needed to be short and pithy. That wasn’t easy when the brain wasn’t keen to cooperate. In the end, she decided on a series of dot points and was halfway through setting out all the reasons for supporting the addiction centre when a familiar voice made her jump.

‘Doing a spot of multi-tasking?’

Georgia’s concentration had been compromised enough just thinking about Brad, without him turning up in person and making things worse. But it’s not like she hadn’t been expecting him. She took the pen out of her mouth and tilted her head back to see over the top of the high reception desk and to meet his maddeningly composed features. His dark eyes glazed over with something she couldn’t identify. Irritation? Concern? Interest? Lust?

Focus, Georgia.

‘I’m working on the proposal for the addiction centre,’ she said, opting to zero in on anything other than what had happened between them at the beach house.

‘Good. I was hoping you’d formalise your ideas. I would be keen to have a look at it before you submit it to the board. That way we can shape it up into something that I can put my support behind before it gets put to the vote.’ He looked at his watch. ‘Let’s talk more after the board meeting,’ he said, heading for the corridor that led to the shelter’s meeting room.

Wow, that was easy.

She had been expecting to have to dig deep and turn on the charm, apologise for her behaviour at the weekend, and then cajole, using all available feminine resources to persuade Brad to get behind her proposal. Instead, he had practically given it the green light without even reading it. A pity, because getting horizontal with him again in the interests of charity was almost worth risking a replay for.

Still, it was probably for the best, she thought, pulling up on the wicked thoughts before they took her into a tailspin. Any more hot sex with Brad, and she would be in serious trouble. Miriam might think a relationship with Brad was worth jeopardising her career over, but she had come too far to lose everything she had worked for now. All they had done was to have a little simple uncomplicated fun — what was wrong with that?

Fun was all very well, but the worrying thing was that Brad’s openness at the beach house had really gotten to her. Something about seeing him as a normal person, along with the contrast of those brief flashes of vulnerability against his otherwise confident persona, was a major turn-on.

It made no sense, but she couldn’t spend any more time worrying about it. The report in front of her needed attention.

It was a quiet night for admissions, and after checking in a couple of the shelter’s regular clients, Georgia eventually lost herself in her work, managing to synthesise the key points from the research literature into what she hoped was a persuasive pitch. She had almost finished proofing the document when Brad reappeared in the reception area. Caro was at his side, rattling off a series of arrangements that sounded like catering and seating plans.

From Brad’s bored expression she guessed their conversation was about the upcoming fundraiser. Not at all interested in Caro’s natterings about table configurations or whether she should choose prawns over oysters for the starter, Georgia concentrated hard on making the last of the corrections to her report.

‘I’m sure the evening will go off without a hitch. It sounds to me as if you have everything in hand.’

A note of exasperation in Brad’s voice dragged Georgia’s attention back to the conversation going on in front of her. Brad backed away from Caro, but for every step he took back, she advanced. Brad was trying to wind up the conversation, while Caro prattled on.

‘Now, about that tour you promised me, Georgia. Caro, you wouldn’t mind looking after the reception desk would you? I’ve asked Georgia to show me around.’

He shot her a glance reminiscent of the beagle-eyed look he’d given her at the board meeting.

She had never offered Brad a guided tour. He had obviously dreamed that up on the spot to escape Caro’s tentacles. Still, she’d had enough difficult conversations with the woman to have some sympathy for his position. So long as Georgia could keep her mind off Brad and on the job, a tour would give her an opportunity to pitch her ideas for the addiction centre.

She played along, gathering up her papers, stuffing them in her briefcase behind the reception desk.

‘Sure, as long as Caro doesn’t mind,’ she said, knowing full well that Caro would never contradict Brad.

‘Of course, Bradley, but then Georgia could give a far fuller explanation than I ever could. There’s nothing like an insider’s view, is there, Georgia?’ Caro asked, taking a verbal swipe at her.

What was the woman’s problem? Why patronise the shelter in the first place if she had such obvious disdain for the clientele? There must have been plenty of causes someone like Caro could take on. Once Georgia would have reacted, but she had learned years ago that it wasn’t worth it. She had found life’s best comeback was to work hard and succeed.

‘Georgia may have grown up locally, but she could hardly be described as an insider here. She’s successful in her own right and one of Sydney’s best family lawyers, for goodness sake. What exactly are you getting at, Caro?’

Brad had jumped to her defence before she had even had time to construct a reply. Warmth bubbled up in Georgia’s chest but as soon as she became aware of the feeling she squashed it. She didn’t need Brad rushing in all chivalrous. She hadn’t planned on giving Caro the satisfaction of getting a rise out of her, and if it came down to it, she could fight her own battles.

‘It doesn’t matter, Brad. Caro’s just trying to say that my mother and I stayed here when I was a child — several times, isn’t that right, Caro?’

Brad pointed a finger in the air, motioning to a large crack in the plaster above the door.

‘And my father started out as a chippy, but so far Caro hasn’t asked me to advise on any building maintenance that needs doing.’

‘I’m sorry, Brad,’ she said, then turning to Georgia, added, ‘That must have sounded terribly insensitive.’

True to form, Caro had managed to both apologise and get another jibe in at the same time.

‘This way, Georgia.’

Brad grabbed her arm, taking long athletic strides down the corridor so that she struggled to keep up in her high-heels. Drawing up to the meeting room he pulled her so abruptly that she rushed headlong into him, forcing her to take a step back. He let go of her arm to grasp her hand and pulled her inside, locking the door behind them.

‘You don’t have to put up with that. One more snide comment from Caro, and I swear, I’ll have her voted off the board.’

‘That would be pointless. For every Caro there are ten more lining up to have a go to make themselves feel bigger or address whatever insecurities they have that seems to make it necessary.’

‘I don’t understand how you can be so calm.’

He gripped her hand more tightly, and she looked up at him until their gaze met, his eyes full of the questioning concern he was confronting her with.

‘I’ve never gotten used to it, I’m just getting better at sucking it up. But that’s how Caro is. She’s equal parts philanthropist to condescending witch.’

‘Not with anyone I’m seeing, she’s not.’

‘We’re seeing each other? Since when?’

‘Don’t play dumb, Georgia. You might have taken off on me at the beach house but there is something going on between us and we both know it.’

His voice was a low growl, his eyes skirting over her body like it wouldn’t take much for him to devour her.

Brad was her colleague, out of bounds: end of story. The thing at the beach house had just been a mistake.

Another one, but that’s all it had been.

‘Even if there was something between us — you being a partner in the same firm makes things impossible.’

‘If it comes to that, I bought my way in to this practice, and I can buy my way out of it,’ he said, it as if it were a throwaway comment — inconsequential.

She should have known better than to be drawn into thinking there was more to Brad than his wealth. When push came to shove and trouble struck, as a Spencer, Brad could simply buy his way out of it.