Legally Addicted (2 page)

After his father died eighteen months ago, the addition of taking over the chairmanship of the Spencer Corp Board had maxed out his workload, and his mother knew it. In the current economy, it was taking a lot more work to manage the corporation’s property investments, and occupancy rates in Spencer Corp hotels and resorts were down, meaning he was also supervising the activities of his hotel managers more closely. He didn’t need the extra burden of picking up his mother’s charitable activities as well.

And as if that wasn’t enough, as a sole practitioner he had no-one to share his case load with. Even though that was about to change, he still expected to be busy for a while until the new arrangement bedded down.

‘Your mother also said, and I hesitate to pass this on, but she did insist…’

‘Spit it out, Jeffrey.’

It was so typical of his mother to use Jeffrey as a go-between.

‘Try not to shoot the messenger, sir, but she said to tell you that it’s high time you found a wife who can take over management of the Spencer Charitable Trust, so that she can slow down.

So that was what this was really all about — his mother’s desire to live an endless summer, flitting between hemispheres.

‘Yes, well, you see, Jeffrey, in my experience, once the veneer of the initial romance wears off, women reveal one of two underlying motives: either spending their way through the Spencer fortune, or cosying up to my celebrity clients, neither of which makes me hopeful for the prospect of long-term marital bliss.’

For a woman to hold his attention for longer than the time required to get her into bed, she would have to want him for Brad Spencer the man, and not merely the trappings that came with being the heir to the Spencer property fortune. More than that, she would have to be comfortable with own life and in her own skin. So far that combination had proved elusive.

Although last night he had found Georgia Murray refreshingly down-to-earth, and 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.’

‘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 it. You don’t want to talk about it. But have you looked at the new stationery?’

Georgia’s attention snapped to the box in her in-tray that she had so far failed to open. Pulling it out on to the middle of her desk, she ripped open the package. A ream of letter grade bond paper gleamed under the brown paper wrapper, and a few seconds later her eyes zeroed in on what Miriam was referring to. The firm’s name on the letterhead had changed: Dayton Llewellyn
Murray
.

‘Excellent, very nice, thanks.’

She tried to sound pleased but not overexcited.

Inside, however, was a different matter. Inside, she was leaping over office furniture and punching the air.

Since she had recently turned twenty-nine, success had been a close run thing, but she could now strike ‘make partner by the age of thirty’ off her bucket list. Okay, so she wasn’t a full equity partner, yet, but that was only a matter of time.

Miriam was always telling her she was too driven, sacrificing too much to her work. Well, there was nothing wrong with having goals, and now Georgia had the absolute proof.

Her single-mindedness had already allowed her to strike out ‘get a scholarship to law school’ and ‘find employment with a respected firm’. With her recent achievement, she only had one ambition left on her list to fulfil: convincing the board at the Dockton Women’s Shelter to back her proposal to establish an addiction centre. Based on the lukewarm reaction from philanthropic socialite and Dockton Women’s Shelter board chairwoman, Caro Marsden, that could be overreaching things. Still, Georgia now had irrefutable evidence that with determination and focus, anything was possible.

Later that morning, when Georgia took her place at the conference table for her first partners’ meeting with Roger Llewellyn and John Dayton, anyone looking at her would have thought she was completely unaffected by the enormity of the occasion. She had long ago perfected the art of the blank stare; masking her true feelings. In reality she was awash with excitement. Even though there had been plenty of time to come to terms with the idea of being brought into the partnership, it was still a thrill to finally be attending a partners’ meeting and to be involved in decisions that determined the direction and running of the firm.

She scanned the agenda. It covered mostly routine administrative matters, a few new legal precedents and legislative changes. She was about to put the agenda down, when an italicised entry part way down the page caught her eye.

B Spencer to join the meeting.

‘Who is joining the meeting?’

She tried hard not to sound overly interested, but despite her rational brain pointing out that there could be any number of B Spencers in Sydney, her heart cycled up in speed.

An anxious look passed between Dayton and Llewellyn.

‘Perhaps we should deal with the merger first?’ Llewellyn queried his colleague.

Merger? Georgia felt as if she had been hit with an illegal windpipe-high tackle, and now lay struggling for breath on the ground. What was going on?

‘What merger?’

Georgia looked from one of her colleagues to the other, both squirming in their seats, neither in any hurry to answer.

In the end, John Dayton cleared his throat.

‘Some months ago, Roger and I approached Bradley Spencer with a merger proposal. At the time we received no response and assumed the offer had been rejected. Recently, however, Spencer made contact to resume negotiations, and yesterday, to our great surprise and delight, he accepted our offer.’

‘Well, if he accepted yesterday, it can’t be valid. That offer was made by Dayton Llewellyn — a partnership that no longer exists, having been superseded by the new one which came into being when I joined as partner,’ Georgia said, relieved to have spotted a legal argument to make against the arrangement.

‘Georgia, this is business, and Spencer will bring in a lot more of it. The more profit the firm generates, the better it is for all of us; but for you especially, surely you can see that?’ Roger Llewellyn said.

Georgia didn’t need Llewellyn to remind her that her equity stake was minuscule, with the balance to be paid off over a period that would be determined by how profitable the firm was. It was, therefore, in her interests to agree to the merger. With the other partner’s significant equity shares, even if she didn’t agree it wouldn’t get her very far. Dayton and Llewellyn effectively controlled the partnership, and so called the shots.

Georgia was still trying to process what she had learned when the meeting room door opened. Dayton and Llewellyn’s attention jerked upwards, and the men half rose from their chairs.

‘Welcome, Bradley, we were just bringing Georgia up to speed with the joining of our respective firms.’

Brad took a seat opposite her, placing his briefcase on the conference table. Snapping open the clasps, he pulled out a copy of an agenda identical to hers. Georgia forced a neutral expression, nodding in his direction, hoping to project professionalism and self-possession, but however determined she might have been to maintain her composure, once she met the same intoxicating charcoal grey eyes she had stared into the night before, her body refused to play ball. Brad’s arrival had somehow coincided with a failure of the building’s aircon system, the temperature rising in the room by several degrees. All too vivid memories sent sweat leaching out of her body until her clothing clung limp around her, including her thighs, which in turn had the effect of reminding her that she was still commando under her skirt.

And exactly why that was the case.

This couldn’t be happening. The last time she was with Brad, they had been buck naked, and now they were going to be working together? Somehow, the wind had changed making Murphy’s Law the only legal code operating in her jurisdiction.

But this thing
was
happening, and she needed to get a grip.

Georgia took a deep breath and swallowed hard, but squashing her emotions downward only allowed space for professional concerns to rush in to the void.

She was the divorce specialist in this firm. There was no way she was going to start taking instructions from anyone, let alone Brad Spencer.

‘Obviously you will maintain your autonomy and your own client list, although I would hope to be able to assist you in growing your client base,’ Brad said, anticipating her objection.

Georgia stared at him for a few seconds before answering, trying to gauge just how far she could go in voicing her disapproval of the new arrangement without alienating the other partners. Dayton and Llewellyn were clearly delighted by the coup they had pulled off in joining their firm with the practice of the highest profile lawyer in the city.

‘I have managed perfectly well in establishing my own client base to date, thank you,’ she said, as curtly as she dared.

Brad smiled at her, a patient, indulgent smile that made her even testier.

‘I didn’t mean to suggest otherwise, Georgia, but I have more clients than I can comfortably handle, and having been assured by John and Roger of your considerable skill, I would feel comfortable passing over any client that you were interested in taking on.’

She momentarily relaxed with the compliment, registering a rising fuzziness inside, but taking stock of the feeling only succeeded in annoying the hell out of her. Brad’s attentiveness was one of the things that led her into bed with him in the first place; right about the time he was choosing disingenuousness over honesty in failing to mention that he was joining the firm. That piece of news was something he obviously knew last night, yet had chosen to keep it to himself.