“I enjoy spending time with you, Violet. And I’m not deliberately hiding anything. My life, or lack of it, is an open book, but that doesn’t mean you know everything about me. We’re just not there yet.”
The longer he held me the more I wanted to believe that one day I would know everything about him. I hadn’t felt this way about anyone in a long time. It was scary, but at the same time it felt right, as if this was part of why I was here in England.
“So how about we have a few more moments together? What do you think?” he asked.
I swept my fingers over his cheekbone. “Don’t hurt me.” It was the first time since David that I’d been close enough to a man to allow them to wound me. The first time I hadn’t hurt them or run before I got too close. But with Alexander, I didn’t have a choice. I was being swept up on his wave and for the moment, I was happy with that.
“I’ll really try hard not to.”
I wanted something more than he’d try not to hurt me. I wanted his promise in blood. “That’s not very convincing.”
“It’s honest. There are no guarantees, Violet. But I won’t lie to you.”
I nodded. It was an adult response—a man’s answer.
Alexander might be the first man I’d ever dated.
Twenty-Two
Alexander
Everything in the world was conspiring against my getting these amended pleadings out. If I started working with a junior barrister more often, they could probably handle them, but as Lance liked to point out, I was a control freak.
“Come in,” I answered the knock on the door. My office had turned into Piccadilly Circus today. It had been one thing after another, but I happily closed my laptop as Violet’s legs came into view.
“You’re a sight for sore eyes,” I said, beckoning her over.
“Why sore? You’re the talk of chambers this morning.”
After the incident with Gabby last week, things had settled down between us. We’d had dinner at my hotel late last Thursday and I’d taken another Saturday night off to take her to my favorite restaurant in London. Two Saturday nights in a row—no one would believe it.
“I can imagine. Presumably not just because of my divorce.”
“No, because of this huge case—Bar Humbug or whatever.”
“It’s the Crown against Hummingbird Motors, but Bar Humbug will do.”
She jumped up onto my desk next to me, crossing her long legs so I couldn’t see up her skirt.
“Have you come to tell me that chambers is gossiping about me?”
“Nope. I’ve come to take you to lunch.”
“Violet, there’s no way I can—”
She pressed her finger against my lips. “You have an hour. I know you’re working on those amended pleadings, but they don’t have to be filed until tomorrow.”
I grabbed her wrist and laced my fingers in hers. “No, they have to be in today.”
“I checked—it’s tomorrow.” She nodded at my laptop. “Take a look.”
I opened the computer and began to check through the emails and my calendar. “Yeah, you’re right. The solicitors had it wrong.”
She shrugged. “So you have an hour. Meet me in Lincoln’s Inn Fields at the back of the tennis court—there’s a little pavilion to keep us dry if it’s raining.” She hopped off my desk and headed to the door. “Wrap up warm and don’t leave for ten minutes.”
Before I had a chance to argue, she’d gone.
Even though I had an extra day to file the pleadings, it didn’t leave me with free time. I had a million things to do tomorrow that couldn’t wait.
But I wanted to stare at Violet’s beautiful face for an hour. I wanted to be amused by her quirky take on the world and be bowled over by that brain of hers.
I could find an hour.
Even if it meant that I’d have to stay later tonight. Spending sixty minutes with Violet King was worth it.
I pulled on my coat, scarf, and gloves and headed out just like I always did to collect my lunch. I nodded at someone who I’d been to school with as I headed out of New Square and across to Lincoln’s Inn Fields. The yellowing leaves on the trees contrasted beautifully with the bright blue sky. I rarely noticed the changing seasons. I often arrived at work before it was light and left after dark, no matter the time of year. But today was a perfect autumn day.
It was less than a two-minute walk to the spot she’d described. Pavilion was probably too grand a name for the place Violet wanted us to meet, but I knew where she was. I’d walked by it a few times, but it was off my main route through the Fields.
Violet waved, her smile infectious. “You’ve come out of your cave and haven’t been struck down by lightning. Who would have thought?” She put her arms around my neck, and I dipped to kiss her on the lips. The cool air had added color to her cheeks and the light had turned her eyes the brightest of blues.
“You’re beautiful.”
“Come on. We’re over here.” She took me by the hand and dragged me under some trees.
“What’s this?” I asked, taking in the two fishing chairs covered in blankets and a cooler.
“Lunch,” she said, grinning at me. “I wanted to say thank you for coming to the spa.”
“There’s nothing to thank me for. I had a good time.” We both took a seat and arranged the blankets.
“I know, but it was a big deal for me. And after, because of . . .”
“Gabby.”
She nodded “Anyway, I thought it might be nice to get you out of chambers and to say thank you.”
I leaned forward and swept Violet’s hair off her face, tucking it behind her ear. “I should be saying thank you to you. This is . . . nice.” As much as Gabby hated me for the time I spent working, I couldn’t remember her ever having done anything like this for me. I couldn’t imagine saying no if she’d turned up to London with a picnic and asked for an hour of my time.
“So, first thing’s first: hot chocolate.” Violet pulled out a flask from the bag beside her and produced two mugs. She handed me the hot chocolate and held the cups steady as I poured.
“What shall we toast to?” she asked.
Right then I wanted to toast to her, to tell her that no one had ever done anything this thoughtful just so they could spend a few minutes with me. “Autumn picnics?” I suggested.
The corners of her mouth dropped. “Is this a terrible idea?”
“No.” I reached across and grabbed her hand. “Quite the opposite. It would never have occurred to me.”
“Not as fancy as you’re used to, I guess.”
“Better.” I’d pick an hour in the November chill with Violet over a stuffy dinner with anyone else every day of the week.
“Really?”
I paused, waiting for her to correct herself.
“I know, I know. You don’t say things you don’t mean.”
“I’m ravenous, what are we eating?” She’d brought a veritable feast. And everything was boxed up in containers as if she’d brought it from home.
“You make this yourself?”
“You sound surprised.”
“You like to cook?”
“Yeah, when I get the chance. My kitchen in my last place in New York was too tiny to do anything other than open a can of soup, but the one here is just incredible. I could spend days in that place without sleeping.”
“Is that cold macaroni?” I asked, poking into one of the containers. “It’s my favorite food.”