“Damn right about that,” someone mutters.
Bart McIntyre is a legal rock star. He represents high-end clients, models, celebrities, those kinds of people. He’s won every case he’s ever had and is legendary.
“Our normal workload will carry on, of course. However, we will now have an arm of our organization that will look after Bart’s high-end clients.”
Holy shit.
Excitement runs through me. This is going to be amazing.
Philip holds his hands out toward us in a welcoming gesture. “So, there you have it, and we’re wasting no time. Bart starts here in this office on Monday.”
The room breaks out into excited chatter.
“There will be a memo going out to you all this afternoon with all the details, but…” He smiles as he looks around the room. “This is exciting news for our business.” He claps his hands. “You can go back to ruling the world now.”
Everyone chatters as they stand and make their way back to their offices.
“April!” Philip calls. “Can I see you for a moment, please?”
Oh, shit, am I in trouble? “Sure.”
“Down to my office.” He gestures to the corridor, and I follow him down. “Please, take a seat,” he says once we step inside his room.
I sit down and nervously clutch my clipboard, oh no, what’s this about?
Philip sits down and leans back in his chair. “I wanted to offer you a new position.” His eyes hold mine. “How would you like to be Bart’s junior.”
I frown. “What?”
“He wants an offsider. Someone he can train up.”
“But… what… I mean… what…” My eyes widen. “Me?”
He chuckles. “He wants someone relatively green so he can mold them how he likes to work. He asked for me to assign someone who is eager and intelligent.”
I bite my bottom lip to hide my goofy smile…. He thinks I’m intelligent.
“Okay,” I say, trying to act cool.
“You will be working with Bart on some things, and then on other days you will return to your own cases.”
I grin. “The best of both worlds.”
“Yes.” He smiles. “How does that sound?”
“Amazing.”
“Great. I’ll let Bart know.”
I stand and shake his hand. “Thank you so much for the opportunity. I’m really excited.”
“You earned this, April. Your work ethic hasn’t gone unnoticed.”
I smile proudly.” Thank you.”
He turns his computer on. “Go out and celebrate tonight. This is an amazing start to your career.”
“I will.” I hunch my shoulders together and feel like jumping in the air. “I’ll see you later.”
“Okay.”
I close his door behind me and practically dance back to my desk.
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
Duke pays for the cab while I climb out of the back seat.
It’s Saturday night, and we are at the London Arts Museum. There’s a sporting memorabilia auction in aid of the Children’s Hospital Oncology Ward. Duke and a few other sport stars are signing autographs, but I’m here for my reward dinner afterwards. Chadwick’s: the most heavenly restaurant of all time.
We walk in through the foyer, and I catch sight of myself in the mirror.
I love this coffee-colored dress with spaghetti straps. It fits in all the right places.
We walk into the elevator, hand in hand, and we turn to face the doors.
“What are you going to eat?” I ask as the door closes and we begin to make our way to level four, where the auction is being held.
Duke raises an eyebrow. “You.”
“Apart from my vagina.” I smirk.
“Your ass.”
I laugh, and he puts his arm around me and pulls my head into a playful headlock.
The doors open on level one. A man is waiting, he's talking on his phone. He glances up at us as he goes to walk in, and he stops midstep.
My eyes lock with Sebastian Garcia.
His brow furrows, and he stands dead still.
We stare at each other, and I get a lump in my throat at the sight of him.
I haven’t thought of him for so long, and yet seeing him here and now brings back the sting of his betrayal as if it happened only an hour ago.
I can hear my heartbeat in my ears as it thumps hard in my chest.
He hasn’t changed.
Sebastian doesn’t move as he stares at me, phone still to his ear, and the elevator doors close.
He didn’t get in.
I drop my head as a barrage of emotions slams me hard.
“MP looks like he saw a ghost,” Duke says.
I frown. “What?”
“The MP, minister of parliament.”
“The who?” What’s he talking about?
“That dude on the phone just then. You recognize him, don’t you? He’s all over the news lately.”
I stare at Duke, I knew Sebastian had gone into politics, I have heard his name in passing over the years, but I don’t stay up to date with everything in the UK, I still watch the American news …. damn it.
“April, that was Sebastian Garcia.”
I know who it was.
My heart races hard in my chest.
“He was just appointed as the Deputy Prime Minister.”
“When?” I frown, how do I not know this?
“Like three days ago or something.”
I stare at Duke, wide eyed.
Can’t be?
10
April
“He’s what?” I gasp.
“Yeah, he’s all over the news lately. How haven’t you seen him?”
My blood begins to boil. “Just lucky, I guess.”
Duke frowns. “Do you know him?”
I raise my brows, realizing how I must sound. “He used to come into a café I worked in years ago.” My nostrils flare as I try to hold in my unexpected surge of anger. “He was a real asshole.”
Duke chuckles. “That’s probably how he got into office.”
I fake a smile.
My cheeks begin to heat as my temper soars. How dare he be here? How dare he breath in the same air that I am?
I get a vision of his face as he held the phone to his ear, and I grit my teeth. I should have smacked him straight in that stupid square jaw. The elevator doors open, and Duke takes my hand and leads me out into the large conservatory.
I try to calm myself, knowing my anger shouldn’t be here.
What happened between us was years ago.
I don’t care what he does. I don’t care at all.
I look around at all the sports memorabilia and the people gathered at their tables.
“Do you want to walk around and see what’s for auction before we get a drink at the bar?” Duke asks.
I fake a smile. “Sure.”
We begin to walk around to look at stuff, but my mind is anywhere but here.
I should have said something.
I should have told him off. Why didn’t I?
In my mind, I’ve gone over and over what I would say to him if our paths ever crossed again. I hate that, all those years ago, I ran like a coward and never got to say my piece. For so long afterwards, I would have imaginary arguments with him while driving or in the shower, going over all the things I should have said to him.