Five Exotic Fantasies: Love in Reverse, Book 3 by Serenity Woods Page B
Authors: Serenity Woods
Ads: Link
eyes. I mean in that sense, what Miss Stark said to you was right—she does give each lawyer a talking to when they join the firm, and if she sees you ‘dallying’—as you so gentlemanly put it—with any of the staff, she soon puts you in your place.”
“But you’ve heard rumours?”
“Well, he markets himself as the perfect family man. Lives in a mansion, wife in pearls and twinsets, two perfect kids—the boy’s a lawyer himself, just qualified, the girl’s at university in Auckland. They hold dinner parties, donate to charity, you name it. And as I said, I’ve never seen evidence of any affairs, certainly not at the workplace. But it’s just…the way he talks, you know? Sort of disrespectful to woman—he talks down to them. And the way the other partners talk to him. Innuendo. Sly remarks. Of course that doesn’t mean anything either way where Sasha’s concerned—you’ll see for yourself when you meet her that she’s not exactly overt. I can’t imagine him making a move on her. But if you’re sitting here asking me, do I think it’s absolutely a hundred percent impossible that he made unwelcome advances to her, I’d have to say no. There’s reasonable doubt.”
“A true lawyer’s answer,” Felix said. He smiled, but his stomach churned. He already knew he wasn’t going to like Peter Dell. And that wasn’t good when his boss was expecting Felix to find him innocent.
He sighed, stood and stretched, then walked over to the desk. “I’ll take a butcher’s at the file now, I think.”
Rob frowned, getting to his feet. “Butcher’s?”
“Sorry. Butcher’s hook—look. It’s a London thing…never mind.” Sometimes it was easier not to explain. “Will you come and get me when they’re ready for me?”
“Sure.”
“And where can I get a cup of…” He just stopped himself saying Rosie . “…tea?” That made him think of Coco’s raised eyebrow, and he smiled.
“I’ll get one of the secretaries to bring you one in,” Rob said.
“No, I—” Felix gritted his teeth as Rob disappeared. In Auckland, all lawyers made or fetched their own coffee. He liked it that way.
He opened the file and huffed another sigh. He’d be glad when the morning was over.
Chapter Eight
Coco couldn’t concentrate. It wasn’t surprising really, she thought—what with it being a strange mixture of a standard day on the job combined with the actual first official day as office manager, as well as the added pressure of knowing Peter Dell was about to go into his hearing. Of course the sudden ability of her brain to wander off course and start daydreaming had nothing to do with Mr. Hotshot and the way he’d nearly kissed her. She wasn’t thinking about that at all.
She pushed away her keyboard and got to her feet. The monthly stationery order would have to wait. Her eyes wouldn’t focus on the figures, and besides, she kept thinking about Felix’s words, about how Auckland’s overheads were so much lower than the Wellington branch’s because they were mostly digital.
What could she do about that? She didn’t dislike technology—she used the internet and email and shopped online and was proficient with lots of secretarial packages. But she didn’t have a tablet, an MP3 player or even a decent phone. She just couldn’t afford it. Technology had always seemed like a wonderful aid for the office and she’d pushed for an update to the branch’s computers a few years ago, and had hired a training consultant to explain to all the lawyers how to use digital voice recording. But it was difficult to be innovative when some of the more senior staff members were stuck in the Dark Ages. There was no way she’d ever get Ted Hoyle to use a Dictaphone, for example, not even an old-fashioned one with the tiny cassettes—he flatly refused to do anything except dictate to a secretary, and how could she fight that when he—and many others—were the ones who paid the bills? Change had to come from
“But you’ve heard rumours?”
“Well, he markets himself as the perfect family man. Lives in a mansion, wife in pearls and twinsets, two perfect kids—the boy’s a lawyer himself, just qualified, the girl’s at university in Auckland. They hold dinner parties, donate to charity, you name it. And as I said, I’ve never seen evidence of any affairs, certainly not at the workplace. But it’s just…the way he talks, you know? Sort of disrespectful to woman—he talks down to them. And the way the other partners talk to him. Innuendo. Sly remarks. Of course that doesn’t mean anything either way where Sasha’s concerned—you’ll see for yourself when you meet her that she’s not exactly overt. I can’t imagine him making a move on her. But if you’re sitting here asking me, do I think it’s absolutely a hundred percent impossible that he made unwelcome advances to her, I’d have to say no. There’s reasonable doubt.”
“A true lawyer’s answer,” Felix said. He smiled, but his stomach churned. He already knew he wasn’t going to like Peter Dell. And that wasn’t good when his boss was expecting Felix to find him innocent.
He sighed, stood and stretched, then walked over to the desk. “I’ll take a butcher’s at the file now, I think.”
Rob frowned, getting to his feet. “Butcher’s?”
“Sorry. Butcher’s hook—look. It’s a London thing…never mind.” Sometimes it was easier not to explain. “Will you come and get me when they’re ready for me?”
“Sure.”
“And where can I get a cup of…” He just stopped himself saying Rosie . “…tea?” That made him think of Coco’s raised eyebrow, and he smiled.
“I’ll get one of the secretaries to bring you one in,” Rob said.
“No, I—” Felix gritted his teeth as Rob disappeared. In Auckland, all lawyers made or fetched their own coffee. He liked it that way.
He opened the file and huffed another sigh. He’d be glad when the morning was over.
Chapter Eight
Coco couldn’t concentrate. It wasn’t surprising really, she thought—what with it being a strange mixture of a standard day on the job combined with the actual first official day as office manager, as well as the added pressure of knowing Peter Dell was about to go into his hearing. Of course the sudden ability of her brain to wander off course and start daydreaming had nothing to do with Mr. Hotshot and the way he’d nearly kissed her. She wasn’t thinking about that at all.
She pushed away her keyboard and got to her feet. The monthly stationery order would have to wait. Her eyes wouldn’t focus on the figures, and besides, she kept thinking about Felix’s words, about how Auckland’s overheads were so much lower than the Wellington branch’s because they were mostly digital.
What could she do about that? She didn’t dislike technology—she used the internet and email and shopped online and was proficient with lots of secretarial packages. But she didn’t have a tablet, an MP3 player or even a decent phone. She just couldn’t afford it. Technology had always seemed like a wonderful aid for the office and she’d pushed for an update to the branch’s computers a few years ago, and had hired a training consultant to explain to all the lawyers how to use digital voice recording. But it was difficult to be innovative when some of the more senior staff members were stuck in the Dark Ages. There was no way she’d ever get Ted Hoyle to use a Dictaphone, for example, not even an old-fashioned one with the tiny cassettes—he flatly refused to do anything except dictate to a secretary, and how could she fight that when he—and many others—were the ones who paid the bills? Change had to come from
Similar Books
