Legally Addicted - By Lena Dowling Page 0,3

based on her early morning departure, not after anything from him, which made for a pleasant change.

Given the outcome of his negotiations with Dayton Llewellyn, an inner city boutique law firm, sleeping with her had been a little rash, but not something he regretted. On reflection, in the clarity of daylight, without the lubricating effect of alcohol, he probably should have mentioned the change in his professional situation to her, but then it wasn’t as if Georgia was going to turn up to work that morning to find he was her new boss.

Brad leafed through the correspondence laid out on the tray. It was the usual mixture of household invoices, catalogues from the few stores he frequented, and invitations to society events, but this morning a couple of personal appeals for money had slipped through. Jeffrey was usually very good about making sure he never had to see these kinds of letters, forwarding them straight to the Spencer Trust.

‘These requests for financial assistance seem to have gotten mixed up with the mail this morning, Jeffrey.’

He handed the correspondence back to his butler.

‘I do apologise, sir, I’ll have them sent over to the trust immediately.’

‘Anything else for me this morning, Jeffrey? You mentioned two messages?’

‘Yes, sir, I almost forgot, your secretary called to remind you about your meeting this morning.’

Jeffrey rifled through the letters until he found a note, placing it on top:

10.00am. Conference, at Dayton Llewellyn.

‘Dayton Llewellyn Murray.’ he muttered.

‘Sorry, sir?’

‘Nothing, Jeffrey.’

Chapter Two

‘Ooooh, shopping. Show me.’

Georgia’s secretary pointed to the telltale carry bag bearing the distinctive monogram of Castlereagh’s Department Store. Only the bag didn’t contain anything new. It now held the clothes that Georgia had worn the day before.

It should have occurred to her that her secretary would want to know what she had bought. She and Miriam always shared their purchases and sometimes shopped together. Even though, as a secretary, Miriam earned far less than she did, she had more scope in what she could wear. Georgia was restricted to suits, or tailored dresses, preferably with a jacket to match. Miriam’s natural flair with colour and style was another reason she made for an excellent shopping companion. Having only had the money to shop in boutiques and department stores since she was admitted to the bar six years earlier, Georgia somehow still hadn’t mastered the art of pulling together a coordinated outfit.

‘It will have to be later, Miriam. I’ve got work to do before the partners’ meeting, but after that…’ she said, hoping that by then her assistant would be sufficiently caught up in her own work to have forgotten all about it. Miriam, however, was hot on the trail of what had happened the night before and wasn’t going to be easily put off.

‘Does the requirement for new clothes have anything to do with a certain Brad Spencer?’

‘What do you mean?’ Georgia said, trying to appear genuinely surprised but failing miserably, sounding instead like she had just delivered the line from a bad school play.

‘Come on, Georgia, everyone is talking about the fact that you left the cocktail party with Brad last night.’

‘Well they can stop gossiping, because nothing happened. We had dinner, that’s all.’

‘Uh, huh. Well, I hope you didn’t give him your usual love ‘em and leave ‘em treatment, because Bradley Spencer is a catch with a capital C.’

‘There was no loving, and no leaving. Just dinner, okay?’

‘I’ll believe you, but thousands wouldn’t,’ Miriam said in a singsong voice as she left the office to return to her own workstation.

Georgia switched on her laptop with a pang of guilt. She wouldn’t normally have felt bad lying to her secretary about a personal matter, but over the last few months Miriam had wheedled her way around her defences. Now Georgia almost counted the woman as a friend.

But right now, Georgia had a full day ahead, and she needed to get her head around a difficult new file; a matrimonial involving several businesses and multiple assets that would mean studying complicated balance sheets and financial statements.

‘Is he as good in bed as they say?’

Miriam’s head had reappeared back around her office door.

Without thinking Georgia answered. ‘Yes. What? No. How would I know?’

‘Ha! Gotcha. You said yes first.’

Damn it. Now she had blown it. Next, Miriam would be suggesting coffee and wanting the sordid details.

‘Haven’t you got work to be getting on with?’ An edge had crept into Georgia’s voice as she started to lose patience with her secretary’s prying, however good natured the intention.

‘Okay, okay, I get