The Lawyer by Charlotte E Hart
Chapter Fourteen
WILLOW
Why did I have to push him?
I curse myself as I shut the door behind me and then head to the bathroom to set about cleaning myself up. I know why I did it. I needed to prove that I could—that this wasn’t all one-sided between Landon and me—and that what happened at the ball could happen again. Sadly, it’s made everything so much worse, because now, all those worries about my job and reputation are front and centre because I crossed the line. In fact, not only did I cross the bloody line, I tore it up and threw it out the window as I was hitching my skirt and screaming in pleasure.
By the time I'm back to my desk, I'm cursing myself again because I’m going to have to deal with the fact that this will only ever be what Landon sees it as. A fuck. Nothing more. Not even a fling, according to me. A dirty secret behind his locked office door. Despite everything I told myself after the weekend, I walked right in and turned my own world on its head. So why, with all those negative thoughts floating around inside my skull, does my body already crave more? Why am I pressing my thighs together under my desk, hoping for an excuse to go back in there?
The rest of the day is a write-off with no ability to concentrate on a thing. Luckily, there are only a few hours to endure before I can run home but escaping his presence doesn’t stop me from hashing everything out in my head over and over again. The last words Landon said to me still resonate in my mind. It will happen again. As often as he sees fit. Am I prepared for that? To be only a convenience to him, no matter how good it was?
And what about Juniper? Landon and I have a standing arrangement now. Thursday night—every Thursday night—with all the lines and rules in place. Am I meant to still dance for him and hide who I really am?
The guilt twists in my stomach at that thought.
God, what a mess.
Another few hours pass by in a blur, and I finally gather my things and leave. By the time I push the key into my front door, I'm not sure I can remember any of the journey.
“Ash! I’m home,” I call, dropping my bag in the hall. No answer. I'm not surprised anymore. He’s been gone since I arrived home on Sunday, and his request for money still niggles in my mind. I text him, asking him to check in, before hitting the fridge. It might be a Monday night, but I deserve a drink.
~
The week drags. With all the excitement that led up to the ball, I miss the frantic action that came with it. Instead, I’m left with piles of legal contracts, requests, and other PA duties that I can’t keep my mind focused on.
On Tuesday, I worked my shift at The Priory. I was looking forward to finding some relief in it, being able to dance and get out of my own head. Maybe even relish in something other than Landon Broderick, but something was off when it finally arrived. The same rush I’ve always felt wasn’t quite there. My performance was edgier, my routine less graceful and more dramatic, and it earned me a questioning look from Jackson at the end.
The irony was, I knew what the problem was—I wanted to dance for Landon alone. I wanted to get off on the power I held over him as Juniper rather than feel the power he held over me as Willow. It was a need in me. Still is. I need to break through that control and win it for myself. The thought still seduces me now. It overtakes my thoughts both day and night. The only problem is, at some point, Juniper and Willow will have to settle for different parts of Landon. Because from where I'm sitting, there's no other way to have him.
~
By Thursday, I'm in two minds about everything. Including whether to ignore what Landon said to me or fling myself across his desk and beg him to take me again. Sadly, his warning—or demand, perhaps—seems to have been forgotten, and every meeting, and every interaction, is dealt with so calmly and easily on his part that it makes me want to scream. He’s back to being curt and dismissive.
I hate it.
“Willow,” he calls through the intercom.
I roll my eyes before responding. “Yes?”
“I have a meeting in half an hour. It’s not in the diary. Clear the rest of my afternoon. I don’t want to be disturbed.”
“Of course.” I pull up his appointments and easily fire off two emails with the cancellations and alternative dates.
Twenty minutes later, a leggy blonde walks through my door. Her heels are a rival to my own, she's got diamonds dripping demurely from her neck, and she's carrying the latest Gucci clutch in her hand.
“I have an appointment with Landon,” she says, barely acknowledging me.
“Your name?” I can’t help my visual once over of her. Again.
“I’m expected.” She gives me a small smile that begs me to challenge her further.
With a confidence I’m not sure of, I round my desk and lead her across to Landon’s office. Without knocking—I rarely do now—I enter and step towards his desk. “Your appointment is here.”
The woman in question bursts through behind me and makes herself at home on the chair in front of his desk. I stand, waiting for their meeting to start, perhaps waiting for drinks to be requested. All I know is that I don’t want to leave this room. Landon doesn’t immediately greet the woman and seems to be sorting through files on his desk until he raises his eyes to mine. “Yes?” he asks, questioning why I’m still here.
“Can I get you anything else?”
“No. And Willow, no interruptions.”
I don’t know if this is some fucked-up game, or if he’s doing this on purpose, or hell, maybe it’s a genuine meeting that he’s having, but I’m a green-eyed mess regardless. I don’t want him locked in his office with her. I want him to want me across his desk, and nobody else.
I walk out, closing the door, and slump at my desk as professionally as I can manage, partly defeated. This is all stupid. Who's to say they’re fucking? It’s just my foolish mind because I know that Landon’s not afraid of that line anymore. He’s happy to shatter the rules or bend them to his will when he chooses. And I’m certainly not okay with any of this.
The realisation smacks me around the head. I’m really not. I might have stirred trouble between Landon and me, but that doesn’t mean I’m immune to my feelings towards him. Just because I know there won’t be a future between us doesn’t mean I don’t want more. Maybe I want to be with him as Willow more than I want him to want Juniper now.
Juniper. How would he feel about me dancing for others once he knew? If we were … I stop my thoughts before they can do any further damage. This isn’t me. I'm being silly.
I power off my computer and leave the office. His appointment can show herself out, and he can deal with himself. Besides, I have a date tonight, and I need to sort my head out before making things worse. Again.
~
Surprise, surprise. Ash isn’t at home when I slam the door shut behind me. I’d thought maybe I’d catch him as I was home early, but no. The quiet of the house presses in around me, and for the first time in … forever, I feel lonely. Since I left uni, I’ve kept friends at bay. I told myself that it was for practical reasons. I worked two jobs, and I didn’t want to explain to people where I slipped off to on the weekend. Ash wasn’t always the belligerent man he’s grown into, and when we were younger, we were a team. We had to be. It was the only way we’d get through, and I felt proud that I'd done my part in ensuring Ash stayed in school, got an education and could do what he wanted with his life. But somewhere on that journey, I’ve failed because the person he is today is nothing like the brother who would microwave a ready meal for me when I came home from the day job.
This is all Landon’s fault. Ever since I took that role, he’s sent my world into a riot of mess and turmoil. Everything was stable. I was stable, and now … I throw open my wardrobe and my hands race along the options in front of me. Nothing is suitable for what I want Landon to see, so I start pulling open the drawers. I pick out a bodysuit that's more just a wide fishnet pattern. Black silk knickers will stop it from being totally revealing. But then I think back to the sex on Monday. Does it matter what he sees anymore?
To keep my mind occupied, I set about a few household chores before I eat and fill up the tub. Hopefully, my usual ritual will calm my frazzled thoughts, and I can go to Landon’s tonight in a better mood. At the moment, I’d likely do something stupid, like confront him about the woman in his office and fuck him anyway. That's probably not going to work.
After I’ve finished messing up my hair, I look in the mirror and see the character I need to feel. Juniper is like my alter-ego, and it helps to think of her that way sometimes. I channel that while pulling on the bodysuit. The web of strings covers my body, but from a distance, it looks like I'm naked but for two triangles of black silk. It’s perfect. Far more slutty than most of my outfits, but it suits my mood considering the bitch in his office today.
Finishing the outfit with a black wrap dress that will hide the real outfit, I put a simple black blindfold that I've modified in my pocket. “I can do this.”
A little self-affirmation is needed tonight.
My phone buzzes from the table and I have half a mind to ignore it, but I grab it and head downstairs.
“Hello, Miss Etherington?”
“Yes?”
“This is Detective Sergeant Monroe. Your brother, Ashley, is in custody at Walworth station and has asked for his legal representation to be present for further questioning. He gave us your number.”
What?
Legal representation? We don’t have legal representation.
My stomach bottoms out and leaves a hollow sensation in its place. “What … is he okay? What’s happened?”
“He’s been arrested for a serious crime. As he’s asked for legal assistance, we can’t continue our questions until he has representation.”
“Um … okay. Okay. Can I see him? Talk to him?” My heart pounds in my chest as I fight to take this in.
“I’m afraid not, Miss Etherington, unless you’re his lawyer.”
“No. Of course, I'm not. No. Okay, I’ll be down … I’ll sort it. I’ll sort it.” Panic strikes, and I shake my free hand as I worry about the problem in my head.
Family lawyer? We don't have anything like that. I wouldn’t even know where to start. Although, I thought you could get free legal support.
Why didn't Ash ask for that?
Landon.
He’s a lawyer. I have no idea if he’s the right kind of lawyer. He deals with companies and paperwork, and he’s not been in a courtroom since I’ve been his PA, or not that I know of. I scroll through my contacts anyway, cursing the fact that I've not added his number to my personal phone. He must know someone.
Racing to dig into my bag, I find my work mobile with several text messages and a voicemail notification on the screen. I ignore every one of them and call him.
He answers on the second ring.
“I believe you’re paid to be my PA, not pick and choose your hours, Miss Etherington─”
I cut him off. “Ash has been arrested. I just got a call from a detective and need to find legal representation for him. Do you know anyone I can call? Or what I should do?” Silence stretches across the line, and my heart sinks.
I shouldn’t have called.
“What’s he been arrested for?”
“I don’t know. They said he’s in serious trouble, and they need more interview time, but because he's requested a lawyer, they can't question him until he's got a lawyer present.” Did that even make sense? I can't think.
And now more silence on the line.
I nibble at my thumbnail, waiting for him to say something else.
“Smart kid. I’ll meet you at the station. Where is he?”
“Walworth. Are you sure? I didn’t know if this was your thing? I mean, the lawyer bit and—”
“Now is not the time to be questioning my capabilities, Willow.”
“I’m sorry. Thank you. And … I’m sorry for ruining your night.” I squeeze my eyes shut. It was a generic comment. He wouldn’t know I meant his night with Juniper.
“It’s nothing I can’t reschedule. Hang up. I’ll see you shortly.”
I nod and do as he says before I take a few deep breaths and walk outside. The car that was supposed to be taking me to Landon’s pulls up, and I simply redirect the driver to the police station.
As we wind our way through the streets of London, my phone pings. Jackson. I already know what it will say. It makes me think about the money that Landon’s just lost because of my request, and guilt ricochets through me. I’ll have to find a way to pay him back, but right now, I may need the money. Hell, maybe I should have given Ash the money he asked for in the first place. That might be what this is all about.
The journey seems to take twice as long as needed, as if London just got busier because I needed to be somewhere. We finally pull up outside a brick-built building blending into the residential surroundings.
I race into the reception and run straight into Landon.
“Rather forward of you,” he says, as he holds my shoulders.
I gather myself and look up towards him. “How did you get here so fast?”
“I live closer than you. I’ve seen Ash and the charge sheet.”
“And? What’s he done? Is it bad? What happens next?” I rattle off the questions I’ve been desperate to ask.
“There’s some circumstantial evidence; it's enough for a charge. They weren’t going to grant it, but I’ve argued for conditional bail on the condition he’s released and reports daily.” He takes a document from the sergeant in front of him and signs it calmly. “Thankfully, as it’s his first offence, they've agreed. It’s a positive step.”
“You’ve figured this all out in twenty minutes?”
The sharp snap of his briefcase almost makes me jump. “Your faith in my capabilities, again, Miss Etherington?” he scolds, but there’s a humorous tone beneath.
“I’m sorry. But you run a company. You don’t get criminals off.”
He gives me a rueful smile. “Really? Still so much to learn about me, Willow.” He turns us towards the other side of the station. “And your brother is not yet a criminal. Come on, they’re releasing him now. Let me take you both home.”
“Oh, Landon, that’s not necessary. You’ve done too much already.” I shake my head and look away.
My brain is swimming, and I'm struggling to stop myself from throwing my arms around his neck to hug him right now. His knight-in-legal-armour act isn’t helping to keep my thoughts about him professional in the slightest.
“It’s no trouble. I’ve rescheduled tonight.”
As he says the words, a loud, dull buzzer sounds, and the door past the reception desk opens as a police officer, followed by Ash, walks through.
“Ash.” I race towards him and do hug him. He doesn’t say anything, but at least he hugs me back. I didn’t realise how much I needed him to do that, and my eyes sting with tears.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tear into him about what he’s got mixed up in, but it can wait.
Ash heads towards Landon and puts out his hand. “Thank you, Mr Broderick.” They shake, and another pang of emotion hits me.
“We can grab a taxi, Landon, really.” Because I'm about sixty seconds away from breaking down, and I really don’t need him to see that.
“My car is outside. Ash, let’s get you home.”
They walk off together, leaving me with no choice.
~
The drive home is silent, apart from Ash programming the directions into the car’s navigation system. There are a hundred questions I want to ask Ash. Or rather, scream at him, but I need to keep my calm. We need to find our way back to the team we were and not fight each other. At least in Landon’s presence, he’s safe.
As we pull up, I expect Landon to drop us and leave, but he parks outside and gets out of the car.
“Coffee?” I ask feebly.
“Yes, please.”
We go inside, but Ash races upstairs to his room like the sulky teenager he’s resorted to.
“Ash─”
“Leave him. He’s fine. Let him be for tonight.” Landon stops me, and I search his eyes for a moment, seeking the strength to get through this. His lips twitch a fraction, and I look away, clearing my throat.
“So, coffee. It’s nothing fancy.”
“It’s fine.” I take my coat off and hang it on the bannister as we pass towards the kitchen. He follows me, and I set about making something I know he’ll disapprove of.
I place the sugar bowl on the table and dig out the only milk jug we have and fill it up while the kettle does its thing.
“Be warned. You won’t approve.” I try to lighten the mood as I bring the coffee to the small kitchen table. “And I'm sorry about Ash, about tonight really.” We both take a seat.
“Nice boots.” Landon eyes my crossed legs at the side of the table. The black knee-highs have a stiletto heel and would have served a very sexy purpose in my routine. Of course, he doesn’t know that. I glance at them, noting the wrap dress has slipped a little, exposing a section of the wide webbing that suddenly comes alight against my skin. “Date?” he asks, as he grimaces at the sip of coffee he’s just taken.
“Sort of,” I admit, pulling the material together at the knee.
“Want to explain what happened today at the office?” I sigh, knowing he’s talking about my abrupt exit at work.
“No.”
“Careful, Willow.”
“We’re not at work right now, Landon. You can’t tell me what to do.”
“That’s not going to stop me.” He smirks and places his crap coffee down. “Besides, I don't feel like I’ve been thanked enough for my heroics this evening yet. Be apologetic and thankful.”
“Landon.” My protest sounds like a plea.
I stand and turn away, looking out of the back door window. I don’t have the energy to fight, and I can’t let him see the indecision on my face. The fact that he’s seemingly adding humour into the mix is confusing the hell out of me.
I hear him stand and move to me.
“So, let’s talk about what you chose to wear for your date tonight.” His fingers touch the skin at the edge of my boot, running up and over the strings of the bodysuit. “Quite scandalous.” At each ridge, my heart stammers, but he doesn’t stop until his chest is pressed up against my back, his fingers hovering at my thigh. “Put your hands up on the window.”
“Ash is upstairs,” I argue.
“He won’t come down. He’s embarrassed and angry, humbled in front of his saviour. As you should be.” His mouth hovers at my ear, his low words murmuring. “Put your hands up on the glass and spread your legs.” He squeezes the flesh of my thigh in command, but my foot doesn’t move. “Don't lie to yourself, Willow. Or me.”
I shut my eyes and take a breath, resigning myself to the fact that I want this—that I need this—before opening my legs. I can see the silhouette of him in the reflection of the window, and my body pulses with want. The draft around my legs chills me as he lifts the dress’s material and lets it rest on my backside, exposing the black silk and the full effect the bodysuit will create.
“You wanted to get fucked tonight. You’d never wear this for any other reason.” His finger slides past the silk inside the wide netting of the suit. The sensation ignites my desire further, and my body pushes back against him, greedy for more, but he pulls away.
“Are you going to be quiet this time?” I hope so, but I’m distracted by the clink of his belt and then the feel of the netting shredding across my backside. He’s calmer than before, more measured as he controls the situation and me in it.
“And do you still want to get fucked?” I nod my head and spread my legs further, now desperate to feel him inside of me. “By whom? Tell me who you want inside your pussy.”
“Please, Landon,” I beg.
“No one else? Looking like this you must have wanted someone else tonight.” Only him. Both sides of me want him. “It’s a rather slutty look. I like it.”
My eyes focus on his reflection from the window as my hips try to entice him into it. It doesn't work; it only seems to make him smother my mouth with his hand. The hard slap that stings straight across my skin makes me buckle into his fingers.
“Who do you want inside you?” he whispers, pulling his hand away slowly.
“You. Only you.”
He obliges the second I’ve said it, shoving inside of me so harshly it squashes me against the window. My fingers strain against the glass to keep myself up and take the force of his assault. My nipples brush against the material of my dress, desperate for attention as he fucks me fast and hard. I end up biting down on my teeth, grinding them against each other to keep my voice in check, but the screams and moans echo in my mind as he drives me closer and closer to climax.
His hand presses down at the centre of my back, his fingers flex as he jolts me forward on a hard thrust. It’s enough to send my vision to the stars as my body comes undone beneath him. My hips flex and my back arches in response as I ride out my climax. Emotion crashes through me, and the tears that threatened earlier slip free down my cheeks.
“Fuck,” he grits out.
And then he stills.
Both of his hands go around me, his fingers pressing down on my clit to send a further shudder over my body. He tugs at the silk of my panties, pulling what's left of them through my legs until they're up in my face. “Is this what you wear under those suits, Willow? Slutty underwear beneath the corporate facade?”
“No,” I whisper, although it sounds breathy and sexy.
“Do. I'll enjoy the thought of it.”
The silk falls from my face as he pulls out of me, and my dress's fabric falls back to cover me. I stay facing the window and brush the dampness from my cheeks, trying to ignore my tears. Whether they're for him, or Ash, or this whole sorry situation I'm currently in, I don't know.
I see his shadow grab a sheet of kitchen roll and hear the click of the bin as he cleans up. That's it. Done again.
Not even a kiss this time.
“Why did you leave?” he eventually asks. “If you can’t handle our … arrangement─”
I turn to face him, needing him to see me. “Can we talk about this tomorrow?”
We stand, locked in a stalemate. Me in this dress and ripped fucking bodysuit and him looking all too good in suit trousers and the same shirt he wore for work today. He hadn't even got changed for Juniper tonight. Although, maybe that was because he dropped everything to come save Ash. And me. “I just can’t do this right now, Landon.”
It’s not a lie. I can’t go into how I felt so jealous I wanted to scratch that woman's eyes out, or that the guilt over Juniper is growing too big to bear. There’s a tangled mess of emotion and consequences, and there’s no way to resolve it.
And tonight’s just added another strand to complicate it.
He nods and picks up his suit jacket from the back of the chair, his arms sliding into it. And then he's gone without another word.
I don’t know how I manage it, but I don’t crumble completely until I’m upstairs, locked in my room.