Falling For The Lawyer (14 page)

“No, that’s not fair, Simon. What you don’t know is that I’ve wanted to do law for a long time and certainly before JP arrived. He made the offer, that’s true, but my real failure is that I should have discussed it with you and Mum and Dad ages ago. I was wrong not to.”

“God help me, all of a sudden you’re thinking about no one but yourself!”

“Sorry to interrupt,” Robert had approached Alex and Simon without their noticing. He’d clearly heard much of their recent exchange. “I have to show another place shortly but I can meet you back here later today if you’d like to see it again.”

“Alex here has to go back to work on a very important job,” Simon explained sulkily. “But I’d like to look at it again.”

Not another word passed between them as minutes later she and Simon walked to the car.

“I can phone for a cab if that’s easier,” Alex offered, knowing he would never agree.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Get in,” he ordered and they were the last words he uttered to her that day.

When he pulled over at the drop-off zone outside the hotel he glared straight ahead through the front windscreen, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.

“Si, can we please not leave things like this. This is awful,” Alex pleaded but he didn’t flinch. The second she stepped onto the footpath and closed the car door he sped off in a fury of rubber tyre friction on tarmac.

Alex stood there motionless, watching as his black car weaved recklessly through the long line of cabs and other vehicles in the traffic. In a daze of mortification and heartache she then walked into the foyer of the hotel.

JP was waiting for her.

He was sitting on a lounge chair with one foot propped up on his other leg, balancing his laptop precariously on his knee and typing very badly with only two fingers involved in the process. Alex stood there frozen, almost insensible of what she would do or say to him.

As though sensing her presence he looked up and then straight across at her. His smile was heart meltingly gentle as he shifted his computer onto the seat next to him and climbed to his feet. Watching her closely he walked slowly to where she stood rooted to the ground.

“You came,” he murmured quietly, running a hand through his hair in a clear gesture of relief. “I had the strongest feeling you wouldn’t; I fully expected to get a call from you at any minute … what’s wrong?”

But before the words had escaped his lips it started.

Great, racking sobs gripped Alex’s entire body as she burst into tears. Dropping her bag to the ground she lifted her hands to cover her face and stooped forward under the crushing weight of the agony consuming her. In the next moment, he’d gathered her into his arms as she moaned and sobbed helplessly into the safe haven of his broad chest.

Alex didn’t take much interest in business. She didn’t take much interest in the men and women who ran corporate Australia either. But Mark Jackson was one industry mogul who she had heard of. Who hadn’t?

He was the twenty-eighth richest person in the country. More importantly, his story was a rags-to-riches wonder that was regularly splashed across the pages of glossy magazines and newspapers.

He was a man who could take on governments and their laws and win. He loved fast cars, fast boats, fast profits and fast women. Meanwhile, his formidable wife of forty years stayed at home, spent his money and survived every one of her husband’s string of high profile mistresses.

Alex was nervous about spending the day with a man as notorious as Mark Jackson, but not so JP.

To the contrary, JP looked perfectly at ease as he sat at the hotel conference table, using the time before his client’s arrival to review the papers in preparation of the session stretching ahead of them. Alex was leafing through papers too, trying to get on top of the maze of factual circumstances lying at the heart of the matter. But the raw despair of her meeting with Simon that morning was too fresh to allow her to focus on any one thing for more than a few seconds at a time.

What a disaster! How had she and Simon reached the point where they could hardly communicate? She couldn’t see anything his way and he was just as lost with her. Yet she had a frightening feeling that Simon was pretty much what he had always been and that disturbed her more than anything, because if that was true then she was the one who had changed and the fault was all hers.

But had she changed, or was she just vocalising her dreams to an unenthusiastic audience? It felt as though JP was the only one who instinctively recognised her deepest longings, more than she did herself. But how did JP know her so well? And why did she feel more comfortable with him than she did with her own fiancé? It was as though they were …

At that moment a profound revelation danced away beyond Alex’s conscious thought like a sprite in the breeze, before vanishing into the deepest recesses of her soul.

She and JP were soon joined by a portly, middle-aged man. He’d clearly been born and bred in the country, going on his tough, leathery complexion. His rasping voice as he greeted Alex was testament to thousands of cigarettes and many more alcoholic drinks. As proof, he had a half-f bottle of scotch in his hand. He explained that a jug of lemonade was on its way for the legal eagles. “Someone has to be alert,” he joked before adding a bellicose, rumbling chortle. He then made a shameless study of Alex’s breasts before taking up a chair and lighting a cigarette. Mark Jackson had arrived.

Alex wasn’t sure when JP had first formed his opinion of Mark Jackson but dislike and distrust oozed from every one of his pores. Yet unperturbed he began to patiently work his way through the convoluted business dealings between Mark and his contracted builder, but it was like pulling teeth.

Alex typed, deleted and re-typed until every muscle in her body was aching but JP never let up. Over and over he would challenge Mark, shoving documents under his nose and asking him to explain each lie and inconsistency he peddled. Ever so slowly the truth was chipped away and revealed but it took hours. Meanwhile, Mark Jackson became more intoxicated and difficult to communicate with. After more than three hours had passed JP finally suggested they all have a break and with that Alex shot to her feet with alacrity, excusing herself to go to the ladies. As soon as she left the room she reached for her phone.

After all those hours of stewing she had to contact Simon and talk about what had happened that morning at the house, for he was right. She had been reluctant to advance the wedding plans and of course he was frustrated and angry about that. Wouldn’t any reasonable man feel the same way?

There had to be a way they could work through their issues. She was sure that if they had some time alone, away from a hovering real estate agent, they could resolve everything. Who knew? Perhaps they both wanted the same things but were simply coming at them from different angles.

The fast dial to Simon’s mobile soon clicked through but it rang so many times that Alex was gathering her thoughts to leave a message.

“Hello?” A young woman’s voice was suddenly on the other end of the line.

“Oh … I’m sorry,” Alex replied. “I’ve rung the wrong number.’

“Is that you, Alex?”

Suddenly the penny dropped. “Monique?” Alex asked tentatively.

“Yes, it’s me.”

“What … what are you doing answering Simon’s phone?” Alex blurted before she could stop herself. It sounded accusatory but Alex’s pulse was already racing as suspicion rose within her.

“I’m with Simon … we were just … I mean … he wanted me to look at an apartment.”

“Which apartment?”

“It’s in Bellevue Hill … Alex, are you there?”

“I’m here,” she answered quietly as the reality check seeped through her veins like poison; so her mother was right: Monique did have her sights set on Simon.

“He wanted my views about it from a woman’s perspective,” Monique explained, the guilt almost oozing out of the phone.

“Could you put Simon on please?” Alex’s voice was cool.

“I’m afraid he’s talking to the agent outside. Can he call you back in a minute?”

Alex replied stiffly that she was working but that she’d phone him later and then ended the call. Easing herself onto a chair she sat very still and tried to absorb the new turn of events.

So Monique wanted Simon. But did Simon want Monique?

Alex fought hard to sort her thoughts into some kind of rational order. Simon and Monique had clearly spent time alone in New Zealand, and they’d changed their bookings so that they could fly home together. Then there’d been that awkward conversation as Simon had explained he had to drive Monique home the night they’d had dinner at her parents. Come to think of it, he hadn’t really resisted very much when JP had wanted to take her home; wouldn’t a love struck fiancé do anything to be alone with his girl when they’d been apart for so long—particularly when her attentive new boss seemed eager to step into his shoes?

Was it really possible she’d missed all the signals between Monique and Simon that night at her parents’ house when her mother, and perhaps JP too, had not? But who was she kidding? Alex knew she’d been so distracted by JP that night she hadn’t been capable of noticing anything.

Alex jumped as her mobile sang into life. She grabbed it and before looking at the screen blurted Simon’s name down the line.

“No it’s not Simon. It’s me,” JP answered gruffly. “Where are you?”

“Just down the hall.” Alex looked at her watch and realised she’d been gone from the conference room for nearly a quarter of an hour.”

“Well if you haven’t immersed yourself in some hotel spa treatment do you mind getting back here? I want to start again.” He rang off.

Normally JP’s curt order would have bothered Alex but not that afternoon. She was too flustered about Monique and Simon to react to JP and yet she knew she shouldn’t jump to conclusions about her fiancé and her cousin. It could all be quite innocent, she told herself as she turned off her phone; the last thing she wanted was Simon calling back and launching into an emotionally charged conversation with her in front of JP and Mark Jackson.

“It’s about time,” JP murmured without looking up as Alex strode back into the conference room.

“I need to talk to you,” she demanded hotly.

JP lifted his eyes slowly from his papers to meet hers. “Unless it’s about work that’s going to be difficult. Mark Jackson will be back in a minute.”

“It’s about Simon and Monique.”

“What about them?” JP asked as he threw his pen down on the table and rose to his feet.

“I need to know what you saw when they got out of the cab last week.”

JP stared hard at her. “Why?”

“You said they made a cute couple. I need to know whether you meant anything by that.”

“Something’s happened between them, hasn’t it?”

“It’s nothing. I mean, I’m sure it’s nothing.”

JP hesitated, watching Alex carefully. He tossed up whether he should just give her a flat denial about seeing anything suspicious between Simon and Monique but her face was twisted with anxious uncertainty. He couldn’t mislead her.

“Simon and Monique got out of the cab but instead of going straight inside they talked for quite a while; five minutes or so. I didn’t know it was Simon at that stage but I have to say that from their body language I assumed he and Monique were a couple.”

“What do you mean?”

“How do you explain the signals people give off? If you’re asking me did they touch one another at all, then the answer is ‘no’.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this before?” Alex snapped, battling to keep her voice from escalating into something that was loud and edgy.

“Because you’re no fool, Alex. I knew that if there was something going on between Monique and Simon you’d work it out for yourself. And I didn’t want you thinking I was trying to undermine your relationship with him because of the way I feel about you.”

“Well, thanks very much for your support,” she answered peevishly.

JP laughed in disbelief. “Don’t attack me. I’m not one of your gossipy girlfriends.”

“I just think you could have told me.”

“When I got into your parents’ house and saw the way he looked at you I discounted what I thought I’d seen but obviously you’ve found out there’s something’s between them. What’s happened?”

But Alex wasn’t able to reply because a whistling Mark Jackson suddenly bowled through the door laden with glasses, mineral water, potato chips and a topped up bottle of scotch, ready to move on to page thirty-six of his statement.

Hours later dinner was brought to the table for them all but it didn’t improve the client’s mental faculties. Finally, at close to eleven, JP sat back in his chair and announced he could do no more that evening. Mark Jackson swore in slurred speech and then announced he was going to buy both his guests a drink at the bar downstairs. He would not take ‘no’ for an answer.

JP looked across at Alex to gauge her reaction to Mark’s unappealing offer. She shrugged indifferently; he suspected she was too exhausted to resist.

Minutes later the three of them were watching a handful of couples moving around a dance floor as an immaculately turned out gentleman played note perfect torch music on a grand piano. Mark Jackson swayed at the bar as he ordered a champagne cocktail for Alex, a beer for JP and another Scotch for himself.

But at that point JP remembered he’d made no arrangements to remove Mark’s documents into safe storage overnight. He excused himself and wandered out into reception to discuss it with the night staff and as he hadn’t been gone more than two minutes he was staggered to see Alex dancing with Mark on the dance floor when he returned.

He shook his head in disbelief that she would have agreed to it before noticing that she was in fact struggling to escape Mark’s hold. She was no match for him. He had her well and truly pinned against his body, his hand slipping down and over her bottom where it parked itself.

With anger roaring up inside him he reached Mark and Alex in a few strides. Taking Mark’s arm in a vice-like grip, he removed it from around Alex’s waist.

“Sorry old man,” JP explained. “We have a strict rule at the firm—no fraternising with the clients. I’m going to have to take over.”