Love Interrupted Page 5

  Dylan frowned. ‘Sorry, what?’

  ‘Drink?’ He grinned, closing the gap between them, so his stale beer breath assaulted her nostrils.

  Dylan stepped back, tossing her hair with an air of indifference. ‘I’m meeting someone,’ she stated firmly.

  The man pulled his mouth into a sarcastic smirk. ‘Your loss, babe.’

  Dylan’s gaze drifted briefly down the length of his body, then returned to his eyes. ‘I doubt it.’

  ‘Bitch,’ he hissed before roughly pushing past her and moving on.

  ‘Dickhead.’ Dylan gritted her teeth. That was what she hated about straight bars. In 2015, a lone woman still couldn’t go into one without being accosted. She wouldn’t mind if she were out on the pull, but it was obvious from the clientele that it wasn’t a pick-up joint. Pushing the encounter to the back of her mind, she started down the floor, squeezing herself between the crowds.

  ‘Over here, Dylan,’ she heard from her left. Dylan turned to see Dave, her work colleague.

  ‘Hi there, how’s everything?’

  ‘In a word—hectic,’ he said in a public schoolboy drawl.

  An eager-looking barman appeared behind them. ‘What can I getcha?’ he asked.

  ‘I’ll have a dry white wine, please. Dave?’ she looked at him enquiringly.

  Dave shook his head. ‘Nah, got to get off, the missus is expecting me.’

  ‘One white coming up. Won’t be a mo,’ the barman said before darting off.

  Dave drained the last dregs of his drink and planted it on the bar. ‘Catch up with you during the week.’ He took off his trilby and ran his fingers through his mane of dark hair before replacing it. Although he was only fifty, he looked a lot older. The dark shadows under his eyes only served to highlight his wan complexion. The relentless hours expected of solicitors didn’t suit everybody, especially as people aged. Dave edged his way into the crowd and his tall, thin frame soon disappeared.

  The chirpy barman returned minutes later with her wine, giving her a flirtatious smile as he accepted payment. Dylan smiled back politely and turned around to face the crowd, scanning the sea of faces for anyone she knew. Looking towards the back of the pub where it was less busy, she did a double take when she spotted a blonde woman sitting with a group of men. Squinting, Dylan leant forward slightly. Is that Harper Anderson? As if sensing she was being watched, the woman turned her head away from the man who was speaking animatedly to the group and looked in Dylan’s direction. It is her. The combination of her sleek blonde hair and fine-boned features was breathtaking. Harper was undeniably gorgeous, much better looking in person than the picture on her firm’s website.

  She lost sight of Harper when the men she was sat with stood and put their jackets on, blocking her view. Oh shit they’re leaving. Without thinking, Dylan took a step forward and squeezed through the throng of people, making her way closer to Harper’s table, stopping a few feet away. She didn’t know why she had the sudden urge to meet her. Maybe it’s because she’s so goddamn hot. Relief swept through her when she saw Harper still in her seat with her jacket hooked on the back of her chair. Seconds later, the group of laughing men left. Dylan waited until they were out of sight before she made her way to Harper’s table.

  ‘Harper Anderson?’ she asked by way of introduction.

  The woman looked up in surprise at the sound of Dylan’s voice. There was no sign of recognition in her eyes.

  ‘Dylan Blue,’ Dylan said smiling.

  ‘Oh,’ Harper responded, unperturbed by their surprise meeting. She dropped the beer mat she’d been tapping the table with and picked up her drink.

  Oh? What kind of a response is that? ‘You emailed me this morning about—’

  Harper took a sip of wine then placed her glass on the table. ‘I know who you are,’ she said curtly.

  Dylan glanced behind her then back at Harper with a look of puzzlement. ‘Have you mistaken me for someone else? ’Cause for someone you’ve never met before, you’re being kind of … well, frosty.’

  ‘Am I?’ the coldness remained in Harper’s tone.

  A short burst of laughter escaped Dylan’s lips when she realised what the problem was. Martha was Harper’s work colleague. Most solicitors didn’t bare grudges against their opponents. They worked a case, it was won or lost and they moved on, had a drink and got ready for the next bout. Apparently, Harper Anderson didn’t play by those rules. ‘Oh I see. It’s a camaraderie thingy is it? I steamroll your colleague in a case, and I’m the villain? I get it.’

  After a moment of awkward silence, Harper leant forward in her seat. ‘Not so much the camaraderie thingy as you put it. More like I don’t like it when people scrape the barrel to win a case.’

  ‘Then I’d say you must be doing a great disservice to your clients.’ Dylan pulled out a chair. ‘Do you mind if I sit?’ Dylan sat without waiting for Harper to reply. ‘So, Harper, I can call you Harper, right? Or would you prefer me to be formal and call you Ms Anderson?’

  Harper tucked a strand of wayward hair behind her ear. ‘Harper’s fine.’

  ‘So I’m in the doghouse for doing my job; is that it?’

  For a moment, Harper looked as if she was going to speak, but after a moment’s silence, she remained tight-lipped.

  ‘I can see we’re not going to hit it off, especially after my client comes out on top,’ Dylan continued, determined to get a conversation flowing with Harper. Despite her hostility she liked the sound of Harper’s velvet silk voice.

  ‘You’re very sure of yourself aren’t you?’ Harper said, tracing the rim of her glass with her finger.

  ‘That’s what I’m paid big bucks for,’ Dylan said, her eyes glued to Harper’s hands. She couldn’t help but wonder what they would feel like caressing her naked body.

  ‘Is that your master? Money?’

  It took a few seconds to realise Harper was speaking to her. Dylan shuffled her chair closer to the table and gave her a fixed stare. ‘No. I’m sure my master is the same as yours.’

  ‘I doubt it?’ Harper’s upper body visibly tensed.

  Dylan opened her mouth to fire off an equally rude retort, and then promptly closed it. If she was going to have to work with this very attractive but uptight woman, the last thing she wanted to do was get her back up. ‘Look shall I just leave? Or can we act like a pair of adults and respect the fact that we don’t have to see eye to eye on everything to get along?’ She gave Harper one of her winning smiles that had melted some of the biggest icebergs she’d come across in her line of work. Harper’s face remained expressionless. For a second, Dylan thought Harper had been immune to her charm, then slowly her face broke into a slight smile.

  ‘Fair enough. We are working the same case after all.’

  Phew! I thought I was losing my touch. ‘Exactly,’ Dylan readily agreed. ‘You had me worried there for a moment.’

  ‘You don’t strike me as someone who’s easily worried.’ Harper’s features softened, which made her even more attractive to Dylan.

  ‘That all depends.’

  ‘On?’ Harper asked.

  Dylan’s eyes dropped to Harper’s sensuous mouth. ‘On who’s causing me to worry.’

  Harper shifted in her seat. ‘Is that right? I’ll have to keep that in mind.’

  ‘But I’ll tell you what is worrying me, though.’ Dylan frowned. ‘That your client is being difficult by filing her own divorce petition. If she wants a divorce why doesn’t she just agree to my client’s petition?’

  ‘Because it contains a pack of lies.’

  ‘That’s a matter of opinion,’ Dylan replied. ‘So what exactly does she want?’

  ‘Only what she deserves.’

  ‘Which is?’

  ‘All assets accumulated during the marriage divided down the middle and a fixed amount of maintenance until the child is eighteen,’ Harper said.

  Dylan threw back her head and let out a short burst of laughter. ‘Come again. I think I heard you say so
mething about dividing the assets down the middle?’ She nodded towards Harper’s glass. ‘What else you got in there. ’Cause right about now, I could use some.’

  ‘Just wine. And you heard right.’

  ‘You weren’t kidding?’ Dylan asked.

  ‘Nope.’

  Dylan shook her head slowly. Harper wasn’t pulling any punches, and she liked that about her. She was straight forward and to the point, but having attributes she liked didn’t mean she was going to get her way. ‘You do know that’s out of the question don’t you?’

  ‘No, what’s out of the question is your client thinking she can walk away without any responsibility whatsoever.’

  ‘Ha! Okay, all jokes aside now. Did someone send you here to wind me up? Has someone planted hidden cameras?’

  ‘No cameras. Just plain old me.’

  I don’t think there’s anything plain about you. ‘Do you really think I would advise my client to accept those terms? Considering how much she’s worth and how little your client contributed?’

  ‘I think,’ Harper leant towards the table giving Dylan a bird’s eye view of her cleavage, ‘your client will be getting off lightly by agreeing to these terms.’

  ‘Look, Harper. I’ll tell you something right now. I don’t beat around the bush. If I didn’t find you so attractive, I wouldn’t still be sitting here right now.’

  Harper’s eyes widened. ‘Wow, okay, I wasn’t expecting that.’

  ‘I didn’t think you were easily shocked.’ Dylan took a sip of wine before continuing. ‘I did a little research about you. I know you were the first openly gay solicitor to come out in your firm when you started there five years ago. You’re a bleeding-heart liberal, which is the only reason I wasn’t personally insulted by the offer you want to put my client’s way … you’re from …’

  Harper raised a hand to silence her. ‘As much as I’d like to sit here all evening while you wax lyrical about my life, I’m already familiar with it. What’s your point? The offer is a generous one as far as I’m concerned.’

  ‘Is that right?’

  ‘Yes, that’s right.’

  ‘No way,’ Dylan chuckled in her condescending way. ‘Your client won’t get what she wants. No way.’

  ‘Look, as you just said, your client is worth a lot of money. I’m also sure you know that her father is a very prominent businessman. Would your client really want this case to be dragged through the courts?’ Harper said with a grin. ‘And the media?’

  The gentle offence in her friendly voice was a kick in the jaw to Dylan. For the first time in her life, she was nearly speechless.

  ‘So you want to play it like—’ Dylan started aggressively, but Harper cut her off.

  ‘—I can just see the headlines now “Lesbian daughter of millionaire Max Massey, cheats on wife then throws her and their baby out onto the street”.’ Harper smirked.

  Dylan’s mouth dropped open. ‘You wouldn’t.’

  ‘Like I said, Ms Blue. It all depends on whether your client accepts our offer ...’

  ‘Call me, Dylan, please,’ Dylan said, trying to buy time. ‘I’m going to have to discuss this with my client.’

  ‘Okay, Dylan, I will have our offer typed out in the morning and couriered to your office for your attention,’ Harper stated professionally. ‘Call me and let me know your client’s decision. Fair enough?’

  Dylan smiled and nodded, somehow managing to hide the fury within. It was the first time ever that she’d been outwitted like this. ‘Can I ask how your client can suddenly afford you after pleading poverty?’

  ‘Because she can,’ Harper replied, bringing the glass to her lips and taking a sip.

  ‘What do you mean because she can? You can’t possibly be that cheap,’ Dylan said inadvertently as the wine began to loosen her tongue in all the wrong ways.

  ‘There are so many replies to that statement.’ Harper laughed. ‘But since we’re talking business, I won’t go down that road. No, Dylan, I’m not cheap. Far from it.’

  The two solicitors stared one another down—not in war, but in pleasant appeal. Slowly, Dylan started to smile. ‘Good, I like my women to present a challenge.’

  ‘Slip of the tongue?’ Harper teased.

  ‘Now you’re just begging for a dirty remark.’ Spirals of delirious excitement shot through Dylan’s body as she observed Harper tug her bottom lip between her teeth. ‘We should order a bottle of wine,’ Dylan said. ‘Somehow, I think it’s going to be a long night.’

  ***

  Shortly before 2 a.m., a tipsy Dylan followed Harper up a narrow flight of stairs to her flat on the first floor. The evening, which could have gone either way, turned out to be pleasant enough once Dylan calmed herself after being caught off guard. As for Harper? Dylan shook her head, studying her from behind in the dimly lit hallway. There was no way of denying the attraction she felt for her. Who wouldn’t be attracted to someone so hot that you felt like melting at their touch? They were so different yet so alike. They both fought for what they believed was right. Yet, in the same breath, their opinion of what was right and wrong were oceans apart. In work matters anyway. On a personal level, they had more in common than either had imagined. They shared the same taste in food, foreign films and music.

  ‘Home sweet home,’ Harper said, pushing her front door open and gesturing for Dylan to follow. From the outset, Dylan was surprised at the modest building. An old converted Victorian house in disrepair. It was nothing like her own fancy apartment block, with its concierge and expensive fittings in every room. Harper’s place was a nondescript building on a nondescript road. She’s obviously not materialistic. In her inebriation, Dylan savoured Harper’s sweet perfume—something by Lenthéric—she forgot the exact one in the haze of amour and alcohol. Dylan followed Harper eagerly into the blue moonlight that flooded the living room.

  ‘Whoa,’ Dylan said, looking around the room when Harper switched on the light. ‘The colours in here remind me of peacock feathers and their hues.’

  ‘That was my intention,’ Harper said.

  Dylan flopped down on the sofa and kicked her boots off. ‘You do know peacock feathers are the eyes of the Devil, right?’ Dylan grabbed Harper’s hand as she walked past her, pulling her down onto the sofa beside her.

  ‘We agreed, coffee and nothing else, remember?’ Harper said, leaning away from her.

  Dylan wiggled her eyebrows. ‘One kiss isn’t going to hurt, is it?’ Dylan urged slipping closer. She had been imagining what it would be like to kiss Harper all night. She closed her eyes briefly, and in her drunken haze saw the two of them locked in a frantic embrace.

  Harper got to her feet. ‘Maybe not right now, but tomorrow? Who knows?’

  ‘Who cares about tomorrow?’ Dylan said dismissively. ‘I’m only interested in the here …’ Her voice fell to a whisper, ‘and now … with you.’ She tugged at Harper’s arm and brought her down with force; this time she landed on top of her.

  Dylan felt her flesh tautening with lust, her groin hot as lava as she took Harper’s face in her palms and kissed her deeply before she could respond. Dylan groaned at the softness of Harper’s lips sinking into hers. Her pulse soared as she slipped her hand inside Harper’s shirt, latching her fingers over the hard peaks of her breasts.

  ‘Stop!’

  The voice came from far away. It wasn’t until Dylan felt Harper’s hands planted against her chest, pushing her back against the sofa that she realised Harper was speaking.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Dylan asked stroking Harper’s arm.

  Harper gave her an incredulous stare. ‘What’s wrong? Do you even need to ask? What we’re doing is unethical.’

  Dylan blew out a breath. ‘Oh God, don’t be so dull. Playing by the rules doesn’t get you far in life, Harper. If your job has taught you anything, it should have been that.’

  Harper raked a hand through her hair. ‘Shit will hit the fan if we cross the line, and someone found out.’

  Dyla
n ran her tongue across her top lip suggestively and brought her face closer to Harper’s. ‘I won’t tell if you won’t.’

  Unpacified, Harper rose to her feet. ‘I think you should go.’

  ‘Oh, come on. Don’t be a spoilsport.’ Dylan cocked her head to the side. ‘You know we’re going to reach a deal in a matter of days, why prolong the inevitable?’

  ‘Why? Because I have a client that needs my help. I’m her only hope, and I’m not going to ruin her chances for a drunken romp.’

  Dylan’s jaw tightened. ‘A drunken romp? Is that what you thought this was going to be?’ To be fair, she hadn’t given a thought to after tonight. But a drunken romp? What the hell is that anyway?

  ‘Don’t play games, Dylan. Are you going to try and make me believe it was the start of a beautiful romance? Women like you don’t love or have relationships. You destroy things.’

  ‘Women like me?’ Dylan’s eyes narrowed as she searched for her boots. Locating them, she held onto the side of the sofa while she tugged them on. This was too much. To be judged on her work persona was one thing, but to have someone she barely knew make personal insults was a step too far. ‘Nope, you’re right. It was the beginning of nothing. I’m in deep trouble if your perception skills are this good at work.’

  ‘Are you being sarcastic?’

  ‘What do you think?’ She gave Harper one last stare and walked towards the door. ‘You seem to have completely figured me out in the space of a few hours. I hope the next time we meet, it will be this pleasurable.’

  Dylan didn’t look back until she was outside Harper’s front door. She rested her head against the wall as she fished inside her bag to call an Uber cab. Thankfully, a driver was close. Dropping her phone back into her bag, her reflections took over. What the hell just happened in there? Why didn’t I cut her down for speaking to me like that? Why did I just stand there and take it like a fool? It’s because you like her idiot brain. That had to be why she felt so emotionally connected to Harper. It was nothing to do with wanting sex. Dylan wanted to share a special moment with someone. To bond. To let someone in to see the real her. A drunken romp? No matter how hard she tried to put the episode to the back of her mind, she couldn’t. A flame burned, but the woman who ignited it wanted nothing to do with her. All that did was make Dylan want Harper even more.