The Maxwell Sisters (41 page)

Bronwyn had often been jealous of Claudia's ability to inspire a super-protective streak in Horace Franklin. Who wouldn't want a father who cared? But this sounded a little over the top, even for him. ‘That's insane,' she whispered.

‘Will you tell him that next time you see him? Because no one else thinks it's worth the mention.'

Bronwyn laughed.

‘I just feel like if I could get away from them, I could finally have a life.' Claudia threw up her hands. ‘And a career to boot. It's not like I haven't earned it.'

‘You have,' Bronwyn agreed.

‘I'm just sick of doing –'

‘What everybody else wants,' Bronwyn finished for her with a triumphant smile.

‘Okay,' Claudia conceded, reaching out and squeezing her hand briefly. ‘Maybe I do get where you're coming from.'

‘Hallelujah.'

‘You should have been a Franklin and I should have been an Eddings.'

Bronwyn grinned. ‘That would sure solve a lot of problems.'

‘So what are we going to do about this?'

‘What can we do? Book in for therapy?'

Claudia grinned. ‘Fake our own deaths?'

‘Swap places,' Bronwyn joked.

Claudia paused thoughtfully. ‘That's actually not a bad idea.'

‘If only we were twins.'

‘I'd be the evil one,' Claudia said with a wink.

Bronwyn laughed. ‘I sure have missed you, Claud. Don't leave it six months till you come visit me again. You don't know how lonely I am out here.'

‘Well, you could always visit me, you know. You haven't been to Oak Hills in over two years. What's up with that?'

There were a lot of reasons, none of which she wanted to go into. So instead she said, ‘You know they'd make me take work with me. It would ruin the experience for everyone.'

As if on cue, Bronwyn's mobile rang. Frankly, she was inclined to ignore it but Claudia indicated her bag.

‘It's okay, go ahead. Answer it. I wouldn't want you to get in trouble for taking a long lunch break.'

She pulled the phone from her bag and lifted it to her ear, immediately regretting taking the call.

It wasn't work. It was her mother, which was actually even worse.

‘Good afternoon, Bronwyn. Can you talk?'

‘I'm kinda in the middle of lunch.'

‘Excellent. How did your meeting go this morning?'

Bronwyn bit her lip, thinking about the dog proposal. ‘Not that great actually.'

‘Oh good. I also have some wonderful news.'

‘Okay.' Bronwyn blinked, not knowing whether to be relieved or insulted that her mother didn't actually care about her answers. ‘What is it?'

‘My colleague Francis Aldermon had a heart attack last week.'

Bronwyn gasped. ‘Mum, that's terrible. Is he all right?'

‘Absolutely fine,' Bianca returned airily. ‘But the mishap did give me a chance to visit him in hospital and talk to him in a less formal setting.'

Only her mother would find a hospital visit an opportunity to network.

‘I was able to direct the conversation in your direction …'

You mean, away from the fact that he almost died.

‘… and he said he would be very pleased to sponsor you to the bar.'

Bronwyn choked. ‘But I've had no thoughts about going to the bar. I'm fine where I am.'

Or should I say, less miserable.

‘Nonsense. There's no need to play coy with me, Bronwyn. I'm your mother. I know how stressed you must be getting about your situation.'

‘I have a situation?'

‘Well, we both know that Simon Bantam is not going to promote you for another year, Bronwyn. I went to uni with the man, he's a stickler for the trenches. He'll keep you there as long as he can, particularly because you're such a good little worker. Why not move across to the bar where all the movers and the shakers are? Including,' she gave a slight titter, ‘myself.'

‘I don't know, Mum.'

Her mother–daughter relationship with Bianca Hanks was not good at the best of times. She couldn't imagine working near her as well. Best not to tempt fate.

‘I'm happy where I am.'

‘Happiness, Bronwyn, is a commodity you know nothing about.'

Okay, you caught me.

‘When I was your age,' her mother continued, ‘I thought I was happy too. That's why I married your father. Look what that got me.'

A child neither of you wanted?

‘A very expensive divorce,' her mother rattled off.

Bronwyn's brow wrinkled. She knew that to speak her mind here would be a mistake. ‘Mum, can I talk about this with you later?'

‘All right,' said Bianca briskly, ‘we can park that opportunity for a minute and talk about the family firm.'

Bronwyn opened her mouth and then shut it again. ‘Huh?'

‘Hanks and Eddings. Your Uncle Cyril is always looking for good junior lawyers and I hear he's short at the moment. It might be a good opportunity to take your rightful place.'

‘Mum, I haven't worked at the family firm for a reason.'

‘Yes, yes, to avoid the stigma of nepotism,' her mother offered valiantly, like a trainer throwing fish to a seal. ‘To prove yourself on your own terms.'

Actually, that wasn't the reason.

‘Well, you are an Eddings. And if you're not going to the bar, then I think it's time you explored your birthright.'

As though I was ever allowed not to.

‘Then you can really spread your wings and soar.'

Or cut my tail feathers and crash.

‘Why don't I call your uncle and get an interview time for you next week?'

‘Mum, don't –'

‘It's no trouble.'

‘Mum!' Bronwyn cried, almost with relief, ‘I have to go. I have another call coming through.'

She actually wasn't lying about that. Before her mother could reply she hung up on her, mouthing ‘Sorry' to Claudia.

Claudia dismissed her apology with a swat of her hand and a broad smile. Clearly, she was relishing eavesdropping far more than Bronwyn was enjoying active participation.

‘Hello?'

‘Bronwyn!' An abrasive voice barked down the line.

It was Simon, the stickler for the trenches. If she wasn't so surprised by his tone she might have laughed, because he did sound like he was standing in the middle of a war zone. Was that a crash in the background or the thump of a rolling head? Did his secretary Lulu just scream?

‘Sir, are you okay?'

‘Where the hell are you?' he demanded, the volume making her pull the phone slightly from her ear.

‘Just finishing lunch, sir.'

‘Then get back to the office right now! We have a situation here.' With orders given, the phone went dead.

Great.

‘What the matter?' Claudia asked.

‘Everything, by the sound of it.' Bronwyn stood up. ‘I'm going to have to cut lunch short.'

‘No worries.' Claudia stood up too. ‘We can talk tonight or tomorrow.'

‘I assume you're staying at my place as usual.'

‘Is that all right?'

‘Of course.' Bronwyn tutted. She reached into her bag and removed a gold key from her car keys. ‘Here, take this. You'll probably get there before I do.'

Claudia's eyes lit up. ‘Thanks! I'll see you tonight. Dinner's on me.'

‘Perfect, cause there's absolutely nothing in the fridge.'

Bronwyn hurried out of the restaurant and up St Georges Terrace. It was a gorgeous day, blue skies with only the gentlest breeze. The sunlight winked off the windows of office towers and cars creeping past in the busy lunch-hour traffic. Luckily, her firm was not far away. All the same, she hitched her shoulder bag higher and increased the pace, her black shiny heels clicking like a train on the pavement. After walking one block she flew into the lobby of Bantam, Harvey and Grey, nearly bowling over the janitor as he was carrying out one of the bins.

‘Sorry, Henry.'

‘No worries, Bron. Simon losing his shit again?'

‘Hope not.' She jabbed quickly at the elevator button. ‘But I wouldn't place any bets on it.' The doors opened and she scuttled inside.

She watched Henry laugh as the doors slowly shut. Seriously, if she had to name one friend she worked with in this building, it would be him. The rest of them were all sharks.

The ride to the eighth floor seemed interminable. But pandemonium erupted as soon as the lift doors opened, along with some very loud, very raucous barking. There was a dog in reception – a large, angry bullmastiff with a squashed black snout and big sunken eyes surrounded by black fur. The rest of its body was that beautiful tawny brown, glossy and silken. Not that this was the sort of dog you would want to pat. In fact, Bronwyn started to move back into the lift.

‘Don't you dare!' A woman, as angry as the dog on her leash, slammed a palm on the lift buttons, causing the silver doors of freedom to glide shut. ‘Are you Bronwyn Eddings?'

‘Y-yes.'

‘At last!' She released the leash, allowing the dog to charge upon Bronwyn, who gave a startled yelp of terror. She backed away only enough to land on the waiting area couch when the bullmastiff leaped upon her person and pinned her there. Its front paws rested on her shoulders, its doggy breath on her face.

‘Meet your new dog.' The woman's satisfied voice came from her left as she sat frozen in fear. ‘Her name is Elsa.'

 

 

The grass always seems greener on the other side … until you get there.

 

For generations Bronwyn Eddings's family has thrived in the legal profession and a position at their prestigious firm is hers by right. Only problem is: she does not want it.

Her best friend Claudia has always dreamed of being a lawyer, but tragedy struck and she took up the reins of her father's vineyard instead. It was supposed to be temporary … now there's no end in sight.

Bronwyn wants Claudia's life so badly. Claudia can't imagine anything better than Bronwyn's job. So the friends hatch a crazy plan to swap places.

Both are determined to be the person they always thought they could never be. But achieving your dreams isn't easy – and falling in love with the men who oppose them is not a good idea …

 

From the author of
The Girl in Steel-Capped Boots
and
The Maxwell Sisters
comes a captivating novel about best friends, family and fighting for what you want, against all odds.

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