Legally Addicted (7 page)

Gathering those pieces of circumstantial evidence together, and despite the rather frosty reception she had given him over losing her office, he was confident that Georgia’s initial attraction, the one that had persuaded her to accompany him up to his penthouse, was still there.

Covered up with professional concerns maybe, but still there.

All in all it was a good start. Now he just had to organise this strategy weekend in a way that would create the sort of opportunity he had in mind.

Giving Caro the impression that they would be spending the weekend together had been a spur of the moment decision. The way Caro had spoken to Georgia at the shelter — he couldn’t understand it. Caro was in no position to come over all superior when it came to less than salubrious family circumstances. He had been tempted to put Caro in her place, but he doubted Georgia would thank him for it. She had managed Caro very well on her own, using her presence at the board meeting to get what was obviously her own item on to the agenda.

Caro had shut her down, but not before everyone on the committee got to hear Georgia’s idea. Georgia was impressive, and not just in ways that he felt squarely in the men’s hosiery department every time he got within a few feet of her.

‘Bad day, sir?

Brad set his wine glass down on the desk.

‘You could say that, Jeffrey. More like a bad week, and I can see that with this extra Charitable Trust work, I’m going to get bogged down if I’m not careful. Caro Marsden is banging on about organising a gala fundraiser of all things, and yesterday I lost my biggest client. Not just a family client, either. I managed most of his commercial affairs as well.’

He only had himself to blame. He had been fresh out of law school when he had drafted Douglas’ prenup and he had dropped the ball. He should never have relied on his client to ensure that the execution of the document was handled properly. He should have followed up and checked his copy of the final document before it was filed away. As a small but successful player in the mining and gemstone industries, Douglas’s commercial affairs were not insubstantial, and it would be quite a blow to Brad’s fee earning contribution until he found a client or clients of similar net worth to replace him. Not that the lost income would make much of an impact on him; compared to the income he derived from his majority shareholding of Spencer Corp it was pretty much pocket money, but it would be an unpleasant surprise for Dayton and Llewellyn.

He had to hand it to her, though; Georgia was an excellent lawyer. He was the one who had gone too far telling Ruby she had no case, and Georgia had put things right. Another lawyer might have kept what she had seen to herself. It was in Georgia’s best interests for the firm to do well, and Ruby’s business was nothing compared to her husband’s.

It wasn’t the first time he had been impressed by Georgia’s work. In the few days since joining the firm there had been plenty of opportunity to see her in action, and she was good at her job; technically competent, and good with clients. She also had a solid list of active files. Taking the Spencer family contacts out of the equation, he wasn’t sure he could have amassed such an impressive client base at the same stage of his career.

It was a shame all he could think about was putting the partnership at risk by enticing Georgia back into his bed.

‘Well, I’m sorry to have to add to your worries, sir, but I took a message from the company secretary this afternoon. He said there had been no improvement at the Spencer Resort in Samoa and you may need to go out there.’

Brad dragged his attention away from the endlessly fascinating Ms Murray and picked up his glass again, taking a decent swig.

‘Damn, I was hoping I could put off dealing with that until things had quietened down at the firm.’

While he always enjoyed a trip out to Samoa, flying over to Upolu, the island on which the Spencer resort was situated, was time out of his schedule he couldn’t afford.

‘One thing I could help with, sir, would be the gala. I wouldn’t like to detract from your mother’s overseeing of the event, but I have had rather a lot of input into Evelyn’s contribution in the past.’

Tactful as ever.

In other words, Jeffrey organised the gala and his mother took the credit.

‘Would you, Jeffrey?’

‘Of course, sir, it would be my pleasure. While we’re speaking of entertaining, sir, about this strategy thing you emailed your instructions for. Are you sure you want me to buy all the salads and desserts in from a s-supermarket?’ Jeffrey stuttered, struggling to enunciate the word. ‘Wouldn’t you prefer me to order in from Castlereagh’s Foodhall?’ Jeffrey paused, clearly hoping for a contradiction in his initial instructions, but Brad was silent, determined not to be swayed. ‘So you’re also firm on there being no wine over fifty dollars a bottle and barbequing the meat yourself then, I take it?’

‘Yes, that about sums it up, Jeffrey.’

‘But why stop there, sir, why not go for paper plates, plastic cutlery, and wine that comes in cardboard box?’

Brad was taken aback by Jeffrey’s rare display of rebellion.

‘I think that would be going a bit too far to be believable, don’t you?’

‘Believable? So there is someone you are trying to convince, a philistine perhaps?’

Jeffrey had the nose of a bloodhound. He had always been able to sniff out Brad’s schemes, and seemingly nothing had changed.

‘You always could tell when I was up to no good, Jeffrey.’

‘And are you?’

Brad smirked.

‘Possibly, if I get extremely lucky.’

The idea of the strategy meeting had come to him immediately after he had told the white lie to get Caro off his back. The potential to create a situation where, if Georgia was of a mind to throw professional caution to the wind, he might get lucky again was a bonus. The only downside was that if she didn’t respond in the way he hoped, he would be torturing himself all weekend in addition to a week of suffering the distracting effects of Georgia’s presence at the office.

‘Nevertheless, sir, I think it would be best if I were on hand to help.’

‘Sorry, that’s a no-can-do, Jeffrey. The presence of a butler would undermine the casual impression I’m aiming for.’

Brad would have preferred to have Jeffrey on hand to assist. Cooking a few steaks and pouring the drinks didn’t seem like rocket science, but with the other partners’ wives there, it was going to be a reasonable sized group. While he doubted there would be much capable of intimidating Georgia, he guessed, based on her previous spiky reactions to the spoils of financial success, the presence of an overly proper and obsequious butler would probably do it.

‘What about a caterer come kitchen hand, in a t-shirt, sir?’

‘Ah, now you’re catching on, Jeffrey. In that case, you’d be most welcome. But you’ll have to drop this ‘sir’ business for the weekend.’

‘I’ll do my best, Bradley, or would you prefer Mr Spencer?’

‘Brad will be fine.’

‘But just for the weekend, Brad, sir.’

Brad sighed.

Baby steps.

He held up the glass of his favourite red to the light and swirled the ruby liquid, determined to savour it. At over five thousand dollars a case, this was one little beauty that would be firmly off the strategy weekend menu.

Chapter Six

Over the next week, things settled down to an easier routine in the office. Georgia surprised herself by how quickly she got used to working out in the open office again, and Brad surprised her by often dropping past her desk to ask her professional opinion on various legal issues. His visits made it clear to everyone that he regarded her as an equal and she was to be treated with the same deference as the other partners.

She still reacted physically whenever he was close, but it was only a matter of time, she decided, before the weak knees, swirling stomach and hot flushes subsided. Seeing Brad with someone else at the strategy weekend would help with that. It would be hard but she would only have to face the awkwardness of that once and then it would be over. It also helped that the Walsh matter was giving her the run-around and therefore plenty to think about that didn’t involve Brad.

With Brad unable to help her, she had almost done enough research into Douglas Walsh’s affairs to qualify for a private investigator’s badge. When searches of property and company registers turned up nothing, she had resorted to web searches and trawling social media sites, but the man was either a complete technophobe or seriously publicity shy. If she didn’t find something soon, she was going to have to consider the possibility that she might have to hire a PI for real.

‘Urggh.’

‘Black file?’

Georgia almost fell out of her chair as a hand rested on her shoulder. She knew that touch, irrevocably impressed into her memory. A frisson of something pleasantly electric shot across her shoulder blade and straight down her spine.

‘Anything I can help with?’

‘Not with this one I’m afraid, Brad. I’m still stuck on the Walsh file, trying to track Douglas’s assets.’

She swivelled around in her seat, forcing Brad to remove his hand. She looked up to find his face twisted in a genuinely apologetic expression. He leaned back against a large filing cabinet, crossing one arm over the other, prevented from crossing both by a rolled up magazine he held in his other hand.

‘I really wish there was some way I could help without compromising solicitor-client privilege, but I know you’ll crack it in the end. Douglas can be a prick. I had to act on his instructions, but I always thought Ruby deserved something.’

Brad’s admission shifted something inside her, as the information that he cared what happened to Ruby sank in.

‘I’m sorry you lost your client, by the way.’

She steeled herself for some form of rebuke or remonstration for her interference, but it never came. Instead, Brad raised his free palm in the air.

‘
C’est la vie
. It was a blow to the bottom line, unfortunately. But we’ll bounce back.’

She nodded. It was good to confirm that there really were no hard feelings over the Walsh matter. She hadn’t been brave enough to raise it before, but she was beginning to realise that Brad really was a fairly sanguine character. It took quite a lot to wind him up.

Outside the bedroom.

Georgia, cut it out.

She dragged her attention back to the present. The sooner she saw Brad with someone else the better.

‘I’m at the stage where I might have to hire a professional investigator.’

‘Not a bad idea to call in the professionals in a case like this, actually. I’ve had to do that sometimes. I can give you some names if you like.’

‘Thanks.’

Brad unrolled the magazine he was holding and handed it to her.

‘
Snapped by the Paps
?’

She quirked an eyebrow.

‘I know, I know, but I don’t read this rag for personal entertainment. With my client list, it pays to stay ahead of the game. Most of it is overblown of course, but over the years I’ve found that where there is smoke, there may not be fire but usually there is something at least smouldering.’

Smouldering.

His eyes gleamed a little brighter as he said the word. Was that meant as a double entendre? It wasn’t the first time he had passed by her desk to talk shop only to end up making some innocent and yet simultaneously suggestive remark.

‘And what is smouldering at the moment, do you think?’ she said, staring him straight in the eye, squarely meeting his cheek with a good dose of her own.

‘Apart from the usual?’

There it was again.

His eyes flashed at her.

It was bad enough having him around, without his flirting, but there wasn’t much she could do about it. If she brought it up, he would probably only deny it, making out she was the one who still had a bit of a thing for him.

Which, to a certain extent, she did.

Damn it.

‘Check out page forty-two.’

Grateful to have a reason to look away, she flicked through the pages until she found the image Brad was referring to.

She read the caption below the photo, ‘“Buckland snapped out with mystery woman”.’

‘This could be it, Georgia. If I were a betting man I’d say we’ll see Cherie soon. Until now, Buckland’s philandering has never made the media, but Cherie isn’t going to like this.’

‘I’ll make sure I’m up to speed with the file.’

‘Good. So I guess I’ll see you tomorrow up the coast then.’

‘Up the coast?’

‘At the strategy meeting.’

The idea of the overnight strategy meeting had filled Georgia with dread ever since Brad had mentioned it. She had tried to forget about it, throwing herself into her work, and with the Walsh file soaking up every free minute out of court, she had been reasonably successful. Watching Brad with someone else would be bad enough, but having to do it in some lavish mansion, which Brad insisted on calling his ‘shack’ in some perverse rich person’s ironic humour, set her stomach revolving in a ball of nerves.

‘Sure. See you then,’ she said coolly, ensuring nothing of her inner turmoil showed on her face.

The next day, Georgia briefly considered faking some forty-eight hour flu bug to avoid driving up to Brad’s so-called shack. But if she did that, she risked major decisions being made by the three other partners without her. She hadn’t come this far just to be sidelined and treated liked the junior partner, or worse, some kind of feminine mascot.

Georgia reduced her speed, turned down the radio, and pulled her sunglasses on to the top of her head as she drove along the dress circle of houses that flanked Caston Bay. Caston was a coastal town a couple of hours from the CBD where the rich came to play. She expected to be completely out of her element at Brad’s holiday house, just as she had felt in his penthouse, and she wasn’t looking forward to making small talk with Dayton and Llewellyn’s wives either.

Although she had never met them before, she had seen them coming and going from their respective husbands’ offices enough times to have them pegged as ageing trophy wives plucked from the wealthy Eastern Suburbs. Then there was Brad’s ‘plus one’ who would likely be some society bimbo whose only difference from the likes of Caro Marsden and Ruby Walsh would be the years on the clock, and the number of facelifts.