“Violet,” Jimmy called, and I spun to face him. “Could you take minutes of our chambers meeting tomorrow night at six?” he asked. “I wouldn’t ask but Becky is out—”
“Yes, that’s fine,” I replied. It wasn’t as if I had anything else to do, and I found chambers life more and more fascinating. I’d learned that Lincoln’s Inn, this little tucked-away haven in the middle of one of the busiest cities in the world, was one of the four Inns of Court that gave barristers their certification. These grassy enclaves in London had housed barristers for the last six hundred years—way before the city around them had grown up into the modern metropolis it was today.
The Inns of Court had stayed constant while the rest of London metamorphosed.
It explained why everything was so old-fashioned. I’d spent lunchtimes exploring tiny streets that led to dead ends or another collection of buildings that wouldn’t be out of place in a Dickens’ novel. I’d wandered into law libraries, and once found myself in what was described as the Great Hall and must have been the inspiration for JK Rowling’s Hogwarts dining room—floor-to-ceiling oak paneling dotted with portraits of judges and barristers and colored coats of arms alongside huge, arched, stained-glass windows. It was all so different to what I was used to in New York and different was exactly what I needed.
So I was more than happy to take minutes at what felt like a meeting of a secret society, to see how all these barristers interacted with each other and Knightley. He seemed to have so many sides to him, arrogant lawyer, kind stranger, prolific gift giver. What else would I discover about him?
Alexander
After Violet had burst into my room yesterday to tell me she wasn’t accepting my gift, I kept waiting for her to reappear. But she never did. I hadn’t seen her all day today, either. Normally I wouldn’t notice if I’d seen Craig or Jimmy or any of the staff in chambers from one week’s end to the next, but Violet King had caught my attention.
Today, I’d wanted to see if she’d complied and worn the skirt I’d bought her. She’d acted as if I’d made some huge, inappropriate gesture, but I’d just gone online and had it delivered to my desk. It wasn’t like it took any effort. After all, it was my desk that had ruined the original, and I knew she didn’t have many clothes. I’d quite enjoyed picking it out on the website—imagining what she’d look like in it, how the material would bunch with my hand up it. But now that I’d not seen her, I was concerned that I’d gone too far. Not that Violet seemed to be the kind of woman who was easily frightened off. But I did have to wonder if the episode in my office and my subsequent gift made me look like a kind of pervert.
Since my wife and I separated three years ago, I’d had a series of one-night stands, but I’d not dated anyone, and the women I’d fucked had nothing to do with chambers. Somehow, Violet, with her smart mouth and long legs, had worked me up to a point where I’d allowed myself to lose focus. I couldn’t give in to my desire for her. My work had to have my sole focus—it was who I was. In fact, wondering how she’d look in the skirt I’d bought should be the last thing I was fixating on.
Further down the corridor I heard Craig knocking on office doors. The dreaded monthly chambers meeting. I normally managed to double-book myself a client dinner or something equally as immovable, so I didn’t have to attend. But my mind had been elsewhere. I’d show my face and then fake an emergency call after thirty minutes or so.
I came out of my office and turned left down to our largest conference room and found myself following Miss King. So she hadn’t run off after all. She’d just not been into my office today. Interesting. I glanced down and noticed she was wearing the skirt I’d bought her. It had a thick, red seam that led to the split in the back, a pathway to a promised land. I trailed my eyes back to her neck. She’d worn her hair up today. I preferred it down.
“You look like you’ve got something on your mind, Mr. Knightley,” Jimmy said as he came up next to me. Violet turned her head slightly, as if she were going to look over her shoulder, then had thought better about it.
“Always,” I replied. Except I was usually fixating over work, and not the nape of a woman’s neck.
“I’m sorry to hear about the Mermerand case being adjourned.”
Jimmy didn’t give a shit about the Mermerand case. And I was fine with that—it wasn’t his job. “It’s fine,” I replied. I didn’t need to be his friend. I had no patience for small talk. I just needed him to do his job. Apparently, he’d not realized that yet.
The carved oak door of the conference room was propped open and barristers filled up the seats around the table. There were a few spaces still available, but there wouldn’t be by the time everyone had arrived and so some barristers, normally the more junior in chambers, would take one of the seats around the outside of the room. Jimmy headed to one side of the outside circle of chairs by the arched windows while Violet headed to the other. I followed her. I’d always sat at the table, even when I was newly called to the bar. My father’s reputation may have been an albatross around my neck in some ways, but it also provided certain privileges, such as automatic respect among more senior members of the bar, including judges. It might not be fair, but it was how life at the bar worked. Nepotism was an accepted way of life. There were plenty of advantages it afforded me, but there was also a downside that no one saw—the expectation, the reputation to live up to.
I took a seat next to Violet. Charles, one of the barristers I respected, pulled out the chair next to him. “There’s room at the table,” he said.
“I’m fine here,” I replied.
He frowned, clearly a little confused, but turned back to the table.
I wanted to be able to make a discreet exit before the meeting ended, so sitting here was better. Besides, it put me next to Violet. I’d not been this close to her since the episode in my office. The scent of jasmine wafted my way, releasing the tension in my muscles. I leaned back, my thigh nudging hers. She didn’t flinch, didn’t react at all. Did I have any effect on her? Fuck, why did I care?