Legally Addicted (21 page)

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Authors: Lena Dowling

BOOK: Legally Addicted
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‘Obsession?’

‘Obsession.’

An explosion of wasabi blowing through her mouth and out her nose was only partially responsible for her cough, as what Miriam was saying registered, and she finally got it.

Scratch that.

She finally got Brad.

If anyone could understand what could possibly be bad about having money it was her.

Brad sat in his office trying to concentrate but the re-runs of Georgia in action with the Bucklands kept playing through his mind. She was good. She had achieved what he never had — she had gotten Cherie to leave that useless husband of hers and find someone she deserved.

He doubted a post-nup with a sliding scale of asset redistribution based on marital fidelity would hold up either, but that hadn’t been the point. Forcing Cherie to face the truth about Pete’s behaviour had been Georgia’s goal and she had succeeded beautifully. She still had some to learn about dealing with celebrity clients, but she showed every sign of picking it up quickly.

He had also arrived in time to see Georgia’s reactions to the pile of suitcases in the corner and Cherie’s situation, stranded at their office. She was glassy eyed and clearly affected by the scene and it brought home to him what she must have been through. But there was no point raking up over old ground. He had given Georgia a choice that night on the roof of his penthouse. Stay and try to work things out or leave permanently. She had been the one to choose the latter. She had run out on him too many times to let her get away with it again.

It was a pity, because what Jeffrey had said after the fundraiser did have a ring of truth. On reflection, he had been able to draw a distinction between Georgia’s request for help for the shelter and every other wheedling plea he had ever gotten from a girlfriend for a new dress, a pair of earrings, or designer shoes.

Georgia hadn’t asked for anything for herself, not once. She had even paid half of that huge restaurant bill at Café Macquarie after she physically baulked at the cost. Without exception, no other woman he had taken out had ever offered to pay for anything.

‘Brad. We need to talk.’

Georgia was standing in the doorway of Brad’s office determined not to leave until she had said what was on her mind — what Miriam had finally made her see.

‘There’s a problem with the Buckland agreement? I thought that was all squared away.’

Brad was surprised. He had thought Georgia had that done and dusted.

‘It was. It’s not that. It’s about us. I’m sorry to do this at work, but I don’t know when else I’d get to see you.’

Brad, who had been leaning against his desk reviewing a file note, put the document down and folded his arms.

‘I think we’ve said all we need to.’

‘You might have, but I haven’t, and I’m not leaving this office until I’ve said what I’ve come to say.’

She walked a few paces into his office, but didn’t sit down, her hands clasped in front of her, her blue eyes blazing.

He nodded.

‘Okay, I’m listening.’

‘Until now I didn’t really get you. I didn’t understand that you need to be accepted for who you are and not be judged on your background, or used for it to gain some material advantage, just as much as someone like me who grew up in poverty needs to be judged on what they’ve achieved for themselves and not their humble beginnings.

‘Go on.’

Brad kept up a stony expression, trying to keep the cautious optimism that was beginning to rise up in check. But at least they were talking, and Georgia had been the one to initiate it.

‘When I asked you for the funding for the addiction centre, I know it made you doubt whether I could see past the wealth to your true worth, and made you wonder if that’s all I was ever interested in.’

‘So you’re saying the fact I had money meant nothing to you. It was a fortunate co-incidence?’

‘No. In the beginning I didn’t think I could care about you. I didn’t think I could care about anyone, and so to start with it was partly about the money, that, and pissing Caro off, but then I got to know you and my feelings changed. I started to…’

‘Started to what?’

‘Started to… I’m sorry I…’

‘No you don’t. You can’t always bolt when the emotions get too big.’

Georgia took a couple of steps back, but Brad stepped in closing the gap, taking her by the arm, gently, very gently, so that if she had wanted she could have thrown him off with one movement. But she didn’t try to push him away.

Brad was right about that, and so was Miriam. She ran. That’s what she did. It had started with running from Jake, a necessity for self-preservation, but then she had run from any guy who got too close. But not this time. She stopped and looked up at Brad again.

She met his eyes.

‘I started to care about you, okay. Even though I could barely admit it to myself most of the time, I started to care about you a lot. I started to think about a word that starts with L that I can’t say, and I was worried that you might say it to me.’

‘And that scared you?’

‘Yes.’

‘I had started to care for you too, you know, Georgia. That’s why I reacted, possibly overreacted, when you asked me to fund the centre. I thought I’d misjudged you.’

‘But the thing is you didn’t misjudge me, Brad, you were right. A big part of it was about the money for the addiction centre; not all of it, but I just wanted to make a difference for people growing up like me, and for people like my mother, so much that I didn’t stop to think about how you would feel about being asked for the money.’

‘You said some of it. What about the part that wasn’t about the money?’

‘It was about you. I started to — ’

‘Fall in love with me?’

He finished her sentence for her, doubtful Georgia would be able to say the word, even though it seemed to be written all over her face.

‘I didn’t say that. I said, I started to think about you in terms of a word that starts with L.’

Brad chuckled.

‘Alright, I’ll play along with you, Georgia. When was the last time you ever thought about this word starting with L that you can’t say in relation to any other person?’

‘Never. You’re the first.’

‘So what do we do now?’

‘Can we take it as read?’ she asked, looking up at him through her lashes.

He laughed.

‘Spoken like a true lawyer. So I can take it as read that we love each other, is that it?’

‘Yes. Take that as read,’ she said, still carefully avoiding saying the actual word, he noticed.

‘That’s all I’m going to get, isn’t it?’

‘For the moment. One day I might be able to say it. But I do know that if I ever do, you would be the only one I’d say it to.’

When Brad took her in her arms she did her best to let her lips do the talking in a way that would make him understand just how much he meant to her, even if she couldn’t articulate the four-letter word that terrified her more than anything.

As Georgia kissed him, Brad opened his eyes to steal a look. The way she clung to him and the urgency of her kiss told him everything he needed to know.

He pushed past her and locked the door to the office, flicking down the blinds.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Gathering evidence.’

‘Of what?’

‘Whether my conference table will hold up as well as the one in the shelter boardroom.’

She laughed, letting him walk her backwards until the tabletop pressed into the back of her thighs.

‘Now, where were we, Ms Murray? Ah yes. I remember, tabletop durability testing,’ he said, lowering her down on to the polished wood.

Epilogue

Instead of throwing her bouquet into the crowd of single women lined up outside the hotel, Georgia strode up to Miriam and held the flowers out to her. Miriam would have been hoping to catch them anyway, and Georgia couldn’t think of anyone who deserved them more. Without her friend’s prodding she and Brad might never have got together.

Miriam didn’t take the flowers straight away, hugging Georgia, forcing her to hold the bouquet of tightly bound rosebuds out of the way to save them from being crushed.

‘Georgia!’

Georgia looked back over her shoulder to see Brad impatiently holding the door of the limo open, the limo that would take them from their wedding reception to the airport, where the Spencer private jet would be waiting.

‘Someone can’t wait to get you on honeymoon.’ Miriam giggled. ‘Go on, go.’

Georgia gave Miriam a final squeeze and thrust the flowers towards her. Then she ran down the steps and jumped into the limo, managing the entry into the vehicle far more easily than she had earlier that day in a full skirted, halter necked wedding dress and veil. Now that she was in her going-away dress, the one Miriam had insisted she buy from the top floor of Castlereagh’s, she shimmied easily across the leather seat.

‘This isn’t the way to the airport,’ she said, looking around to Brad as the limo driver took a wrong turn at the first intersection, veering away from the route that would connect with the airport traffic.

‘No, we’re making a quick stop at the office first,’ Brad said.

The limo rounded the block and stopped outside the main entrance to the building that housed the law firm where they worked.

Brad leaned across her, peering out the window.

‘What are you looking for?’

‘The firm’s name plate — look.’

Brad sat back and pointed in the direction of the signage beside the revolving doors into the building.

Georgia stared at the brass lettering.

Dayton Llewellyn.

The plate only the day before had read: Dayton Llewellyn Murray and Spencer. Someone had replaced it with the old sign, the one from before the time she and Brad had joined the firm.

‘What’s going on? What have John and Roger gone and done?’

‘It’s not what they’ve done. It’s what I’ve done. Look down, Georgia.’

For as long as she could remember, underneath Dayton Llewellyn’s name plate, there had been a similar brass ornament for an accounting firm, but now it was gone, replaced by a bigger, shinier sign in the same golden metal.

Spencer and Spencer.

‘A bit presumptuous of me, I know. If you want to keep your own name, I can have it changed, no problem.’

‘No, Brad, it’s perfect. Everything is just perfect.’ Georgia pulled her hands into fists, drawing them up to her mouth as if to head off the thrill that was moving up through her body looking for an escape route.

She couldn’t believe it. Her own firm, something that had seemed so impossible she had not ever even dared to dream it, let alone put it on her bucket list.

Overcome, she leaned over and whispered in Brad’s ear.

‘What did you say, Georgia?’

‘You heard.’

She wasn’t going to say it again. Brad knew very well what she had said, and how difficult that had been for her to even whisper it.

‘Strange you have trouble with that particular four-letter word when there are so many others you have no trouble with at all. Not that I’m complaining, of course. I’m hoping we can unleash some of that delightful vernacular of yours again soon, very soon, my love.’

She dug him playfully in the ribs.

Brad pulled her to him, dropping his head down to kiss her on the top of her head.

‘I’ll just have to say it for both of us then, won’t I?’

Georgia nestled into him, wordlessly encouraging him to continue with a happy sigh. ‘That’s right, Mrs Georgia Spencer — I love you, and I know you love me too.’

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