‘You’re spending too much time here. You never did have that night off I ordered.’ So he wasn’t taking no for an answer. ‘Corey—you lock up!’ Corey spun round from where he’d been clearing a table and the tray of glasses he had in his hands slipped—glass shattering everywhere.
Lucy couldn’t stop the giggle as she tried to tell Daniel off. ‘You should never have done that.’
He flashed her a wicked smile. ‘I’ll sign it off. Come on, let’s go have some fun.’
Casual Daniel wanted to play. And that was a Daniel she couldn’t refuse.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
You rely on reason rather than intuition
DANIEL got back from court—and a not guilty verdict—to find the dean of the law school had been trying to contact him all morning. He rang him back right away and was offered the job. Even though he’d been expecting it, the rush of satisfaction hit hard.
He pushed away from his desk and stood—went out of the office and told his secretary he was going for a walk.
‘Daniel, you’re supposed to be meeting Miles for lunch.’
‘Cancel it.’
The stunned expression on her face made him relent. ‘Apologise profusely. Tell him I’m not feeling well.’
His life was getting way too complicated. He headed to the outdoor pool. He always thought things through in the water, but today he couldn’t settle into his stroke. He abandoned the attempt and went for the walk he’d said he was going to. Somehow he ended up along by the club. He didn’t go in. Didn’t want Lucy thinking he was coming to gloat over his verdict. He could hardly go in high-fiving. He wanted to play that one carefully. A lot of what she’d said was right. There were no real winners today.
Immediately on his return to the office he was called in to his managing partner. The one he’d ditched at lunch.
Miles leapt to his feet as soon as he saw him. ‘It’s time we had that talk, Daniel. More than time.’
‘You know the university has made me an offer.’ It was a confirmation of knowledge, not a question.
‘I knew they wanted to. I can understand it. You’ve got a brilliant brain for research and your enthusiasm for the law is palpable. You can make the most complex law crystal-clear to the most uneducated Joe on the jury and as a lecturer you’ll have students captivated. But you’re also a sight in the courtroom, Daniel. That’s your home. We can give you the resources you need. We know other firms have tried to headhunt you. You’ve stuck with us and we want to reward that, by promoting you to full partner. You’re the youngest we’ve ever made the offer to.’ He smiled. ‘There are substantial benefits, of course.’
Daniel knew. Remuneration the university could never compete with. But then the university had other kinds of benefits—holidays, for one. Sabbaticals. Time to research and write.
‘I know you like to do a lot—pro bono, lectures for law school and the Law Society. All good stuff and good for the firm, but you have to be sure you can fully commit to us.’
That word. Commit. He’d been skating around it for some time.
‘I’m sure you’ll think it through with your usual precision.’
Daniel nodded and exited. Satisfied but still hungry. You’d think he’d be happy with all his pigeons coming to roost. This was what he’d been working towards for the last eight years. Setting up his pick. Trouble was, now he had to choose and he didn’t know where to start.
He knocked on his father’s door having bypassed the usual necessary appointment. For once in his life he needed his father to be a father, not a mentor. Managing partner at Graydon Jefferies, he’d been disappointed that Daniel hadn’t followed him into the commercial law arena and made it Graydon & Son. But for Daniel sealing deals and clinching contracts around the world wasn’t really law. It was the cut and thrust of the courtroom battle he liked. The testing of evidence and the theoretical development of the law in which society operated that got him going. Not sorting out matters between large, already wealthy firms. He chuckled under his breath. Lucy was right; he was an idealist.
‘Hi, son. How is it?’
Daniel knew he was referring to his work and nothing else. ‘Good.’
‘You’re lecturing at the university again, I see.’
Daniel nodded.
‘Don’t hang out with all those academics too much though, will you? Get back to your ace-lawyer act in the courtroom. You’ll be a judge in no time.’
Did he want to be a judge?
‘What about your caseload—still OK?’
Still crazy.
‘Not still doing all that pro bono stuff, are you?’
Well.
‘Partners won’t be interested in that. You want to be a full partner, you bring in the money.’
Did he want to be a partner?
His father frowned. ‘Although the publicity that last case brought was good.’
Daniel looked at his father another moment and wondered if he should mention Lucy. He figured there wasn’t much point. His father went to bed with law tomes.
He stiffened. Up until a couple of weeks ago, so had he. Sure, he’d had his flings, but he’d still come back to his own bed, alone, with his books.
Now it wasn’t enough. And for the first time he could understand his mother’s side of his parents’ relationship. As a youth he’d been angry with her for leaving—angry that she hadn’t understood the drive that pushed his father, the ambition that he’d inherited. The desire to be the best, to make that difference. But looking around his father’s opulent office he wasn’t sure his father was interested in making a difference. He seemed more concerned about making money. Given there’d been money in the family going back generations, this seemed pointless.
Status. Was that why he pushed Daniel to aim to be the youngest partner? Or youngest judge? So he could bask in reflected glory? Daniel couldn’t even be sure his father was happy. Sure, he had a successful career, but at the end of the day he went home to a house empty of everything except material possessions. He’d been so driven to succeed in his field he’d lost sight of everything else.
His father glanced unsubtly at his watch. Time was money—every minute was assigned to some client’s account. Daniel geared up to go—realising communication on a level other than work was never going to be part of his relationship with his father. He started to wonder that if he hadn’t done law, he’d ever have had a thing to talk to him about.
Time. His mother had wanted more of it—from his father. Said she wanted someone who had time to laugh with her, to love her.
He’d been following in his father’s footsteps for so long, been so determined to succeed, he hadn’t really understood.
That evening he sat in his apartment not wanting to go to the bar, but illogically wanting to see Lucy. Increasingly uneasy, he looked around his lounge. Lucy’s possessions were taking over. Her shoes. CDs stacked untidily by his stereo. He went and looked at the pile. More country. He put the top one in the stereo and pressed play. Listened for a couple of minutes before wandering around the room and breathing in the scent of Lucy. He wished she were home, then wished he didn’t wish at all.
He stepped into the hall and peeked through the open door of her room—not sure why he was feeling so reticent given that she slept every night in his bed. Her cowgirl boots were lying on the floor. She must be in sandals tonight—given that it was hot and humid, this was hardly surprising. He smiled at the boots, happily indulging in the memory of the pool table where she had lain wearing nothing but them. Those boots were made for walking. And, yep, he was quite sure they were going to walk right over him.
Probably soon.
He looked at his watch and frowned—near to closing time. He needed to move if he was going to be there in time to walk her home. He refused to have her walk home alone. Bad martial arts moves or not, she was vulnerable. And while she was on his watch he wanted to make sure she was OK.
He walked quickly to the club, foreign anxiety rising in h
im. He was setting up for a fall here. He wanted Lucy—a lot. More than wanted? His jaw clamped. No, because he knew what to expect—she’d leave. Sooner or later, she’d up and walk out leaving him nursing what—a broken heart? His blood chilled. He’d better end it. He should have finished it with her days ago. That was his rule—finish the fling before she does. But he just couldn’t bring himself to—not tonight. Maybe tomorrow.
He woke late again, his brain even more confused. Only knowing that he was pillowed on something soft and warm and he really, really didn’t want to move. His eyes jerked open. What the hell was happening to him?
He really needed to do some exercise. He tossed up his options—sex or swim? As if there were any question. But as he watched her sleep he couldn’t bring himself to wake her. He fought to resist the urge to run his hands over the tanned curves peeking out at him. He’d love to have her right now but she needed rest. With regret he snuck into the shower at the other end of the flat, dressed and headed to work.
Once back at his office he stared at the email. Damn Lara. He didn’t need anything more for his brain to dwell on. Certainly not more Lucy-related stuff.
How long would the transaction take? He had no idea, but he knew he couldn’t rely on Lucy to last the duration. She’d never signed on for anything long-term in her life. The minute she found out she’d be off. He knew it in his bones. Somewhere, deep in the chest region, a little spark hoped that she wouldn’t. But Daniel didn’t rely on sparks. He always, always prepared for all eventualities. Looked at a case from every angle. Broke it down. Decided on his response to each possible scenario—cold, analytical.
He picked up the phone to call a temp agency. He certainly wasn’t going to walk into one of their offices—you never knew what you might come across. It didn’t take long. A quick outline of what he needed and when he was likely to need it.
After making the call he went to see one of the partners in the commercial arm of the firm. He sent Lara an email back explaining he’d handed over her request to someone else. She was on the phone in a nanosecond. Must have been glued to her BlackBerry.
‘What’s going on? What do you mean, you can’t do it yourself?’
‘I can’t sell the club for you, Lara.’