The British Knight

I glanced at the desk my mother had given me when my father died. I’d never used it. It had sat in the study in this house, but I always ended up working at the dining room table. There was more space. And since I’d left here, I hadn’t thought about it. She thought this was a symbol? Of what? The breakdown of our marriage? My failings? I almost asked her, but I wasn’t sure I wanted her answer. I’d admired my father and been proud of him and the work he did, the career he had. Even now at the bar his was a name that was revered. He’d been the best at what he did. And I wanted the same thing—to be the best. What was wrong with that? I was driven and focused just as he’d been. And I didn’t have children who needed me to turn up to sports days.

It was true I was following in my father’s footsteps. But I hadn’t considered that could be a bad thing. The thing I’d dreaded when I was first starting out was that people would compare us and I’d come up short. Perhaps that was what Gabby had meant—I was striving to have a career as successful as his. It was what I’d wanted since I’d been a child. I wasn’t sure that put me in competition with a dead man, as she put it. To be the best at the bar took hard work. That’s what it had required from my father. That’s what it took from me. There was no point questioning it, looking at the right or wrongs. You couldn’t be a great barrister without putting in the hours just like you couldn’t be a Hollywood A-lister without being famous. Or a fisherman if you didn’t like to spend time outside. I had no choice.

“As much as being married to you was painful,” she said. “I want you to be happy.”

Her words pulled the air from my lungs. I hated that our marriage pained her, when I’d barely noticed it. I should feel more at the end of a relationship that had been meant to last forever. I just didn’t.

“I’m going to go and leave you to it. You can let yourself out,” she said. “Can you make sure you send the papers back by the end of next week? I really want to have this wrapped up before my lawyer goes away the week after.”

“Of course,” I replied. There was no reason to prolong anything. “And you know I want you to be happy, too, Gabby,” I said as she reached the exit.

“Thank you.” She walked away without looking back, leaving me in a cold, dark room with six boxes that summed up my existence to date. And my father’s desk.





Eighteen





Violet


I glanced around and realized all the desks in the admin room were empty. Was everyone in a meeting? I spun my chair around and went into the clerks’ room.

I checked the time. Oh my God, it was just before nine. How had everyone left without me realizing? And how had I worked four hours past my official finish time without noticing? When I was waitressing, I’d left my customers the moment my shift ended, even if there was food waiting to be delivered to my tables.

I grinned. Who would have thought I’d be happy to work overtime? I wandered out into the corridor to stretch my legs and go to the restroom.

I walked softly, almost tiptoeing past Alexander’s office. It had been over a week since we’d had our conversation after the awards ceremony. I really wanted to talk to him about the three-month extension to my contract, but I didn’t want to look like I was making a big deal about what had happened between us. It was just he was the only barrister I knew in chambers, and I wouldn’t mind hearing what he thought about some of the ideas I had.

Just as I passed his door, the familiar squeak of his door handle echoed down the corridor as he opened it. I continued toward the restroom without turning around.

“Violet?” he asked after me.

I stopped and turned. “Hi,” I replied. “Can I help you with something?”

He checked his watch. “What are you doing here so late?”

“Oh, just putting together something for Craig.” I hadn’t wanted to neglect Knightley’s filing, so I’d been working on my suggestions for improvements in chambers after hours.

“I’m just about to order in some dinner. Can I get you something?”

I’d vowed to avoid Knightley. I didn’t trust myself not to jump him, but it was late and I didn’t have any food at home and despite not knowing him that well, I liked him. “That would be great.”

“Come in, and you can choose what to order.” He disappeared into his office and I followed him.

I was always so quick to dart in and out of his office when he wasn’t around, I hadn’t really taken the time to study the place for a while. It looked very different to how it had when I’d arrived. I could actually walk freely to Knightley’s desk from the door without having to negotiate a labyrinth of paper. The room seemed much bigger.

“I couldn’t believe it when I found that desk under there,” I said, lifting my chin toward the desk across from the door.

“I know. I’d forgotten how big this room was. It will be useful to have an extra surface.”

“I can get you a table to go over there,” I said, indicating the wall he’d fucked me against, then wishing I hadn’t mentioned it.

“Maybe,” he said. “Sit down and see what you want.” He indicated I should take a seat in his chair. I sat as he leaned on the desk next to me.

“There are too many choices,” I said, looking at the online menu on his screen. “What are you having?”

“The steak,” he replied.

“That figures.”

“It does?”

I shrugged as I scrolled down to the fish. “Yeah. You’re the type of guy who always orders the steak. Fillet, right? Rare. And a glass of merlot?”

He chuckled. “What, are you a food fortune teller?”

“No, I’ve just been waitressing a long time.” I clicked on the sea bass. It was expensive and I couldn’t really afford it, but if I took the contract extension and had another three months on this salary, I could.

“Putting that MIT degree to good use?”

I faced him and smiled. “It’s a long story.”

He looked at me as if he were waiting for me to continue. When I didn’t, he frowned. “I have the merlot here in the office if you’d like to join me. I’m afraid I don’t order wine by the glass.”

I laughed. Of course he didn’t. “Sure, why not?” I exhaled. Today had been a long day. Wine, especially wine that probably cost more than a week’s salary, was just what I needed. And although I knew I should be keeping my distance from Alexander, I really didn’t want to.

He stood and retrieved two glasses from the bottom drawer of his desk and a bottle of wine from the bottom shelf behind his desk and set about uncorking it. His fingers worked quickly and efficiently, and as he concentrated, I took in his sharp jaw and those lips that had whispered such dirty things to me. What was I doing sharing wine with this almost-irresistible man?

“Shall I move?” I leaned forward, about to stand up.

“No, stay there,” he replied. “It suits you.”

“What, sitting in your chair?”

He handed me a glass, his fingers brushing mine as he did. Our eyes met and my heartbeat scattered in my chest. I definitely shouldn’t be doing this. Shouldn’t this initial attraction to him have passed by now? Normally I’d have forgotten a guy’s name if I hadn’t spoken to him for a week.

He lifted his glass and dipped his head. “Cheers.”

“Cheers,” I said, raising my drink. We didn’t clink. Was that a British thing?

He leaned against the edge of his desk, his long legs stretched out in front of him, and took a sip. I couldn’t take my eyes off him as I put the glass to my lips. “Christ almighty,” I said as the velvety wine slipped down my throat, stealing my attention. “I’ve never tasted anything like that.” My brother had some pretty nice wine, but this was something else.