Love Interrupted Page 6

  Chapter Thirteen

  Harper didn’t know which was worse—the pounding of her head, or the hot, dry desert in her mouth. ‘Oh God, no. I didn’t ... I couldn't have ... did I?’ She strained to recall the night before. She could remember Dylan inviting herself in for coffee when the taxi dropped her off. The little tiff that had been blown into more than necessary. Dylan leaving, and then Harper hitting the brandy bottle as if she were an out of control teenager. Then her mobile phone. Who had she been texting? More importantly, what had she been saying? She swung her legs off the bed, ignoring whatever agony might ensue as she frantically searched for her phone amongst the chaotic scene on her bedroom floor. Finally, she located it under the corner chair. Tentatively, she peeked down at the roll of text messages and sighed a breath of relief. ‘Message not sent.’ For the first time since she moved into her two-bedroom flat, she was grateful for the crappy reception. Too embarrassed to read what her state of mind had been like under the influence, she hit the delete button for all fifteen messages intended for Dylan. One strong coffee and two paracetamol later, Harper hit the shower and was dressed, out the door and on her way to work within an hour.

  ‘I dread to ask how many you downed to look in this state,’ Shay said when Harper stepped into the outer office.

  Harper subconsciously patted her hair. For Shay to comment on her appearance, it must be serious. ‘I look that bad, huh?’

  ‘Sorry to say, but yes. You look as if you’ve been dragged through a hedge backwards then frontwards then—’

  ‘—Okay, okay, I get the message.’ Harper rubbed her face wearily. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d binged on alcohol. Feeling as she did now, she fully remembered why. It always amazed her the way some people knew exactly when to stop. That had never been her case, though. She always walked along the edge of the abyss, slipped and fell, then started all over again. After a few glasses, the urge for more never stopped until the booze was finished, or she passed out. Thankfully, these days the episodes were few and far between, but still, she could do without them, especially when she had important work to do.

  ‘Coffee?’ Shay said with a look of sympathy.

  Harper nodded. ‘You’re a woman after my own heart. Let’s be grateful I don’t have any appointments today.’

  Shay walked towards the door, picking up her own empty mug in the process. ‘You do have one, so I hope the coffee perks you up. You’ve got a Ms Blue—’

  ‘—Dylan?’ Her heart raced. ‘What about her?’

  Shay froze in her steps and turned to face Harper. ‘Calm down, it’s nothing serious. She’s coming to see you in about—’

  ‘—She’s coming here?’ Harper said frantically. Images from the night before flickered through her mind: Dylan’s soft lips on hers. The confident way her hands claimed her body as if it belonged to her. The great yearning she felt to be at one with her. ‘I can’t be seen in this state.’

  ‘Ms Blue isn’t coming to take you out on a date. She’s coming to discuss …’ Shay’s eyes blinked rapidly behind her glasses. ‘Oh, I see,’ she said slowly, a smile spreading across her lips.

  Harper glanced at her assistant sharply. ‘What? What do you see?’

  ‘Oh, um … nothing?’ Shay walked behind her desk, pulled open a drawer and withdrew a small bulging bag. ‘Here you go.’ She dangled her make-up in front of Harper. ‘Bit of blusher and lipstick, and you’ll look as right as rain.’

  ‘I don’t care if Dylan sees me looking as rough as a dog,’ Harper said under Shay’s wary, doubtful gaze.

  ‘Who said you did?’ Shay dropped her hand to her side. ‘But if you don’t want it ...’

  ‘No wait, give it to me … please.’

  Shay raised her eyebrows. ‘I thought you didn’t care.’

  ‘I don’t. But I have to look professional, don’t I. What will people think if they see me looking like a—’

  ‘A sight for sore eyes,’ Dylan finished for her, entering the office in an ebullient mood.

  ‘Dylan,’ Harper said, carefully shielding her face with her hand.

  ‘The one and only. I hope you don’t mind me dropping by like this. I thought we’d discuss the case further in person. Emails can be so impersonal don’t you think?’

  Shay glanced at Harper open mouthed. Harper bowed her head and grabbed the make-up bag from Shay’s hand. ‘Can you show Ms Blue into my office, please? I won’t be a minute.’

  Harper darted out the office via a pair of double doors and hurried down the short corridor, straight into the toilets. Taking a deep breath, she stood in front of the large mirror. The reflection staring back at her was worse than Shay had let on. She looked deathly ill. Pale was an understatement. You should know what drinking does to you. You’ve seen the damage it can do first-hand. With trembling fingers, she unzipped the bag and rummaged through it.

  Dylan’s done this deliberately! Catching me off guard. She roughly applied blusher to her pale cheeks, giving them a healthy glow. If she thinks she can get under my skin like this, she’s got another think coming. Harper applied a coat of red lipstick to her lips. Oh, God that makes me look like a cheap slut. Darting into the cubicle behind her, she grabbed a handful of tissue. She rubbed the lipstick off, applied some eyeliner, finger combed her hair and headed for the door. Toughen up! She told herself. You didn’t get where you are today by being a soft touch.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Seconds later, Harper strode into her inner office with an air of confidence she didn’t quite feel. The hangover was returning full force. A pneumatic drill pounded her head. She closed the door carefully behind her and let out a soft sigh. The last thing she needed was to be putting on an ‘I feel great act’ with Dylan of all people.

  Dylan turned from the window and smiled at her appreciatively. ‘You scrub up nice after a late night.’

  ‘So do you by the looks of it,’ Harper said. She made a rapid mental calculation. They must have parted company around two, give or take an hour for Dylan to get home and wake up around eight, which meant Dylan must have only had around five hours sleep. Despite this, she seemed to be firing on all cylinders. Unlike Harper. I doubt she was drinking until God knows what time this morning.

  ‘Me. Oh, I’m used to it. I’m a right goer. But you know that already don’t you? What with your psychic senses and everything.’

  Harper inwardly cringed as she remembered her unfounded accusations hours earlier. What had she been thinking talking to Dylan that way? Just because she thought it, didn’t mean she had to say it aloud. Never say something drunk that you wouldn’t say sober was her motto. ‘Look about last night …’ she started.

  Dylan raised her hand. ‘No need to apologise.’

  ‘As well as saying sorry, I was going to add that it should never have gone that far. We hold—’

  ‘—Oh, please. Spare me the regret talk. It’s way too early for me.’

  Harper tilted her head to the side. Why am I so attracted to this abrupt, in your face woman? She thought back to the previous evening before things had gone tits up. She remembered with full force how spending time with Dylan had changed her perception of her. She’s smart, intelligent, and sexy as hell, and whether I agree with her downright outrageous views on marriage, she has so much passion and conviction for what she does. Just like me.

  ‘Whatever you say. Just know it wasn’t personal,’ Harper said trying to sound as sincere as possible.

  Had the circumstances been different, she was sure they would still be wrapped up in their own little cocoon. There was no denying that she felt a strong attraction towards Dylan—a very strong one. Unfortunately, in reality, they were in the middle of a divorce case, each representing a client who wanted the best from their solicitor. It wasn’t as simple as just sleeping with someone and the next day you switched your feelings off. Harper didn’t know about Dylan, but that wasn’t her style. If anything was going to happen between them, she wanted it to be with a clear consci
ence on both sides.

  Harper slid onto her seat behind her desk. Somehow she felt safer with a barrier between them. ‘So what do you want to talk about?

  ‘Nice office.’

  Harper gestured for Dylan to sit. ‘I like it.’

  Dylan leant forward, eyeing Harper intently. ‘You feeling alright?’

  ‘Yes, why?’ she said cautiously, hoping Dylan hadn’t noticed she couldn’t take her eyes from her face.

  ‘Dunno, you suddenly look a bit peaky.’

  Harper shrugged. ‘I’m naturally fair skinned. If you think I look pale now, you should see me in the winter.’ She paused. ‘I don’t go in for the fake tan craze.’

  Dylan’s gaze drifted over Harper’s face. ‘Maybe you should. It would bring out the colour of your amazing eyes.’

  Harper’s knees began jiggling under the desk. A habit she acquired in her childhood when she became nervous for no apparent reason. ‘Really, you don’t say?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘How fascinating,’ Harper said blandly, noting Dylan’s faraway look as she gazed at her.

  ‘Sorry, what did you say?’ Dylan said.

  Harper gripped her hands together tightly. She had to keep Dylan’s flirting at bay. It felt as if Dylan’s eyes were slowly undressing her. She knew it wouldn’t take much to let her in. Right now that was something she just wasn’t going to let happen. ‘I said how fascinating. Look, can we get on with this meeting?’

  ‘Sure. Anyone would think you couldn’t wait for me to leave.’

  Harper sighed. ‘Did I say that?’

  ‘No, but it’s just a feeling I get.’

  ‘Sorry, I can’t help the way you feel,’ Harper said a little defensively.

  Dylan looked slightly bewildered. ‘So you only spread your love seeds on the weak and needy, is that it?’

  ‘Something like that.’ Harper was taken aback by the sour note in Dylan’s voice.

  ‘Coffee?’

  Harper gave Dylan a quizzical look. ‘What?’

  ‘Could I get a cup of coffee, please? Black, no sugar.’

  Harper shook her head. There was no chance of prolonging Dylan’s visit by offering her beverages. ‘No coffee, Dylan. Just tell me what you want. We’ve wasted ten minutes already.’

  ‘I wouldn’t say they were wasted. I like being in your company.’

  ‘Are you trying to knock me off my game by doing this?’

  ‘What being nice? What would you prefer, I get my claws out?’ Dylan said with no attempt at a smile.

  ‘Anything’s preferable to this.’

  ‘Ten grand.’

  ‘What?’ Harper said in a slightly louder voice.

  ‘You say “what” a lot, don’t you?’

  Harper nodded politely. ‘Because I don’t know what you’re talking about half the time.’ The truth was Dylan’s presence had her mind in a tizzy, and she was saying ‘what’ only to get a head start and buy some time.

  ‘Okay, I’ll make myself clear,’ Dylan said like a tolerant but slightly exasperated mother to a child. ‘I’ve spoken to my client and the offer is ten grand.’

  Dylan’s mobile phone pinged. Reaching into her pocket, she withdrew it and raised her finger in Harper’s direction. ‘Hold on a sec.’

  ‘You’ve spoken to her already? Ten grand! Are you kidding?’

  ‘No, one minute.’

  Harper watched with mounting fury as Dylan read her text message with a smile. No doubt one of the many dogs she has on a lead sniffing her out.

  ‘Sorry about that.’ Dylan looked up at her, stuffing her phone back into her pocket. ‘Yes, I called her earlier. She was quite amused by your offer and also your tactics. Anyway, this is the only offer you’re going to get. One payment. Once the divorce is settled, my client doesn’t have to see yours again. Or the kid.’

  ‘You are aware that your client cheated on her wife, and that will be the grounds for divorce in our petition,’ Harper said incredulously as she leant back into her seat.

  ‘Hearsay. Where’s your proof? My client only started a relationship with Ms Adams once your client left the marital home.’ Dylan withdrew a large envelope from her bag and fished inside. Seconds later, she scattered an array of papers on Harper’s desk in front of her.

  Harper’s heart sunk. She dreaded to think what Dylan managed to dig up to put an obstacle in their way. ‘What are these?’

  ‘Emails.’

  Harper rolled her eyes. ‘From?’

  ‘My client to Adams.’

  Harper acknowledged the emails with a jerky inclination of her head. ‘So? Do I really have to read their smut?’

  ‘Not the romantic type? Thought not.’ Dylan cocked her head. ‘I must admit, I had you down as a realist the minute I saw you.’

  ‘Dylan get to the point, please.’

  ‘Look at the top of the page,’ Dylan replied coolly.

  ‘And what?’

  Dylan smiled. ‘See, there you go again with your “what”.’ She nodded at the paper Harper picked up. ‘Notice anything?’

  ‘Can we stop going round in circles, please?’ Harper could hear the impatience in her own voice. She didn’t know what the cause of it was. The fact that Dylan was infuriating her by playing mind games or because of the premonition she had that Dylan had one over her.

  ‘Look at the dates, Harper.’

  Harper scanned the emails, making a note of the date and times they were sent. ‘What does this prove?’

  Dylan’s expression changed from slightly bemused to one of surprise. ‘I thought that would’ve been obvious. They were merely flirting when your client was accusing my client of cheating. Take the affair accusation to a judge, and he’ll laugh you out of court. Take the offer to your client, Harper. It’s going to drop a grand a day. The longer your client holds out, the less her payment will be.’

  Harper looked at Dylan for several seconds, trying to process the implications of this new information. ‘And what about the baby?’ she said defiantly, flinging the paper back on her desk.

  ‘Trust fund. Eighteen grand. But that’s it. No other responsibility.’

  Harper fought to clear her head and get the facts of the story right. ‘A thousand pounds for every year of his life? You do know your client was the one who wanted the baby, right?’

  Dylan shrugged. ‘Again, where’s the proof. Is there a paper trail? Did Robyn accompany her for the AI, doctors’ appointments, scans, antenatal classes or even to register the birth?’ When Harper failed to respond, she continued, ‘No, I didn’t think so. Does that sound like the actions of someone eager to be a parent?’

  Harper remained silent for a few moments, trying to figure out if there was a beating heart beneath all that steel armour. Maybe she had Dylan all wrong. She wasn’t just a cold-hearted solicitor, she was a cold-hearted bitch as well. How could Dylan, in all seriousness put a deal on the table where a mother and child got basically nothing? Her voice was a little shaky when she finally spoke.

  ‘You know this makes no difference. Your client is the legal parent of the child and is therefore obliged to take financial responsibility.’

  ‘It’s a good deal. Advise your client to take it,’ Dylan said with finality. ‘She’ll be the one to suffer at the end of all this. You and me? We’ll just move on. Your client will be the one stuck with the consequences.’ She leant forward in her seat. ‘Bring the media into this and I will bury your client if you force me to, Harper. Sorry to be crass about it, but it’s the truth.’

  Dylan pushed herself to her feet and gathered the emails together, leaving them in the middle of the desk, stacked in a tidy pile. ‘I’ll wait to hear from you. Remember, the clock is ticking.’

  Dylan turned and left Harper’s office without saying another word.

  Exhausted, hungover and depressed, Harper rested her forehead on her desk, pressing her hands against her ears in the hope they would block out the torturous voice mocking her in her head. It was telling her she w
as going to fail the very client who needed her help more than anything.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Dylan swung open the door and inhaled a deep breath of the morning air. It had taken every ounce of strength and control to keep her composure. Of course it hadn’t really been necessary to visit Harper, but Dylan couldn’t help herself. Making the offer in person had its benefits. It meant she caught Harper off guard, which made her vulnerable. Dylan smirked. The shock on her face when I said ten grand. Dylan was certain Harper’s client would reject the offer—she’d be mad to accept it—but starting low would give Dylan the best chance of getting the outcome her client wanted. The case going to court would be disastrous. Dylan knew a judge would take Robyn Massey to the cleaners. No, she wouldn’t let that happen, a settlement was the only way to win.

  As Dylan strode along the pavement, memories of the previous night flooded her mind. Harper’s lips on hers. The feel of Harper’s body pressing against her. Dylan had to see her again, there was no doubt about it. But how when Harper was so stubborn?

  Dylan didn’t know what was worse, Harper fighting her obvious attraction to her or the fact she seemed to think that Dylan was some kind of ogre. They were both upsetting. Dylan preferred things to be straightforward and wasn’t in to playing games.

  She fancied the pants off Harper, and wasn’t about to pretend otherwise. Harper was a woman who was true to herself and her values. Dylan liked those attributes. It was hard going against the grain, and it took a sense of confidence and commitment, which Dylan rarely saw in the people she was normally surrounded by. On the flip side of the coin, despite her feelings for Harper, Dylan was going to fight her hardest to get her client the best possible settlement, even if it meant ruffling Harper’s feathers. It was her job. Just because she was good at it, didn’t mean she liked it most of the time. Cleaners don’t like clearing up people’s crap every day. They do it because it puts a roof over their head and food on the table. This wasn’t the first time Dylan had met a self-righteous woman with a mission to save the world. She had witnessed the downfall of many of them when they’d reached empathy burnout. Most, but not all, were now drowning in an alcoholic/drug haze, having finally realised they couldn’t save the world after all.