“You aren’t going to give me any sugar? I guessed so, but hey, a girl can hope. What if I say that I forgive you for letting me think some Jack the Ripper lured you to a dark corner. Will you tell me then?”
I laughed at her multitude of answers.
“Tell you what?”
“Details of your one night stand.”
I chuckled. “You sound way too cocky about your assumption. If you must know though, I was hungry and met someone I kind of knew, and he suggested we have a late dinner together, and I thought, why not?”
She snorted. Clearly, she wasn’t taking my words at face value. “I would press for more, but I wouldn’t want you to think I am trying to stalk you or something.”
“Okay,” I replied in defiance of her sulky tone.
“You aren’t really one to ask too many questions, so I’ll return the favour.” She said with amusement and resignation clouding her words.
“Hmm, Hmm.”
“I definitely need more non-nosy people like you in my life. With how nosy I am, the only people that come my way have the same trait as me. Perhaps, I would get more control of that when I become a fixture around you.”
I smiled, liking the idea of her been a fixture in my life.
“Can I ask you something personal?” I bit my lips because I felt very uncomfortable about what I was about to ask.
“Please do ask. Did I finally say something intriguing enough to poke at your curiosity?” She teased.
“I am always curious; I have just always found that people are more honest when they volunteer information,” I revealed.
She laughed out loud. “That’s such a paranoid way to think.”
“My way nonetheless,” I countered.
“Fair enough, so your question.”
“What did you mean when you referred to your father’s love as conditional? I mean, you implied it.”
Silence followed. “You know what, forge….”
She cut me off. “His love depends on me following his rules, expectations, and conforming to his standards. Funny though, it was Jayce who made me see it. For so long, I was daddy’s girl. Pleasing him, which he rewarded with a controlled boastful bank account, and making me so dependent on him. Every time I did anything contrary to what he wanted, he would cut me off. I too would always shamelessly go back grovelling, and when I had grovelled to his satisfaction, his money doors will be opened to me again.”
I felt for her, for the defeat and sadness in her tone. Her voice had cracked even as she spoke. Her father was hurting her. Someone meant to love her was hurting her; something I understood more than I was willing to let her know.
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh. But, it is what it is.”
Yes, it was. I knew that better than most, but I was still sorry for her hurt.
After what seemed like forever, she let out a hard breath.“So you are not going to ask about Jayce, are you?”
It was a rather random question. “No. But you can tell me if you want to.”
“Right, because I’ll be honest if I volunteer the information. Well, I won’t.”
I laughed. She was mocking me.
“Anyways, is it okay if I come over with my things today? I’d like to settle in before work starts on Monday.”
I scrunched my face at the impossibility of what she was saying. “How do you expect to unpack in two days?”
‘Zina, I’m not moving into an empty house, just a room you’ve generously provided, and maybe your kitchen too.” She replied, almost in rebuke.
“That makes sense. Come over, I’ll help in any way I can.”
Chapter 7
Three hours into my first workday as a legal assistant, I found myself standing in what I had been informed was the only non-frosted glass-walled conference room. It was reserved for the most treasured clients who preferred privacy.
The door was closed, so I politely knocked. A ginger who looked to be in her early forties opened the door with an eyebrow raised in question. The gesture let me know she wouldn’t waste her time or words with me.
“I’m Zina Wright. I was told that a Mrs Amelia reques…” Apparently, that’s how she was supposed to be referred to—Mrs plus her first name.
Her face finally relaxed, or maybe I imagined it because, she didn’t smile even as she interrupted me with a wave of a hand. “Do come in, Miss Wright,” she uttered, opening the door just enough for me to get inside.
I halted, not caring that Mrs Amelia could have stumbled into me, but didn’t.
I was shocked as I struggled to resume the breath I was holding. The eyes that met mine where the water sprout eyes that had me dreaming of taunting feather-like kisses.
But, as I met his eyes, all I met was a blank face; ice-cold and calculative eyes—a look unmistakably reserved for professional environments.
I gasped, but not loud enough for Mrs Amelia to notice my astonishment. I quickly regained composure, slowly letting out a breath. But, not before my eyes did a quick sweep of his fine self.
He wore a black suit with a grey shirt that was buttoned all the way. But he hadn’t bothered with a tie. There was something sexy about him without a nauseating tie.
His ensemble did nothing to hide all the manly hotness that hid underneath his clothes. They sure didn’t.
I quickly averted my eyes, already feeling spellbound as I waited for Mrs Amelia to say something, anything. The same woman, who was very much oblivious to the pleased smirk that laid on Mr Clarke’s face, or my momentary state of shock.
She finally spoke. “Nik, this is Miss Wright, my new legal assistant…”
My eyes enlarged when her words settled in me, words that connoted things I had no clue about.
“Miss Wright, this is one of the most sort out clients of any law firm in London, who I have kept under the wings of this firm,” she introduced, using her hand to point at a particular chair for me to sit in beside her. One that had to be opposite where Mr Clarke sat.
I plopped down slowly in disbelief, with his gaze hot on me, like the scorching sun itself, nodding at me in acknowledgement. For the life of me, I couldn’t even use my words or brain to reply.
“Alright. Zina, is it? Is it okay to call you that?” She asked. I nodded in speechlessness.
“Zina…” Mr Clarke abruptly drawled, as if testing the name for the first time, which it was not. I rolled my eyes mentally.
“I am sure you are wondering why you are here, so I’ll cut to the chase.” Her full attention was on me, unyielding. “I usually pick a first-year to shadow me. But, my legal assistant is currently on leave, and her replacement isn’t doing up to par, so I picked another legal assistant to shadow me while helping her carry the workload.”
She narrowed unbothered eyes at me. “Is that something you think you can do? Starting your first day with the higher-ups?”
My eyes widened at her words, her powerful tone, her demanding expression, the way she carried herself. Even if I didn’t already know who she was in the legal food chain of London, I couldn’t mistake that she was a woman in power asking me to work with her.
I nodded fast and vigorously, shamelessly even; all in a bid to acknowledge the opportunity for what it was—a remarkable opportunity.