At 5.30 that afternoon, Jeremy from HR rounds us up and herds us into the elevators, destined for the top floor. He doesn’t look thrilled to be babysitting.

“Why are you going, Soph?” I ask as six of us squash into the next available elevator.

“They request some of the qualified lawyers and HR mingle with the new trainees. So we can tell you more about Madison,” she explains.

I nod.

“Really it’s so you behave yourselves and don’t wreck the bar,” she adds cynically.

“Lucky you.” I smirk. My ears pop as we ascend to the twentieth floor. We get off the elevator into a lounge area with panoramic windows overlooking the London skyline.

“Whoa,” I roar without an ounce of composure.

“I told you!” Amy squeals.

Sophie grins. “That’s the typical reaction. Nice, isn’t it? The Lexington Group architected it. Friends of Tristan Kane apparently.”

The hot guy, Jack, from the pictures all over the internet.

“Champagne, girls?” she asks, laughing at the shock on our faces. “It’s a free bar.”

“No,” I say firmly. “I’ll have a beer. Champagne gives me a hangover and brings out the fear in me.” The last time I had champagne was in his hotel. I can’t look at a champagne flute now without feeling tricked.

“I thought the Welsh could drink as well as the Irish.” Amy grins.

“I’m a lightweight.” I gawk around as we make our way to the bar. Waiters flit between groups of thrilled trainees, serving food and drinks. It’s more decadent than the last wedding I was at.

“Canapé?” a waiter asks, holding out the tray to us.

“What are they?” Amy asks suspiciously as Sophie orders our drinks. “I’m a pescetarian.”

He points to the first dish. “This is smoked eel, golden beet, and elderflower jelly.”

“Can pescatarians eat eels?” I ask, confused.

She wrinkles her nose. “I don’t think so. Although it’s not something I’ve been offered before.”

“This one…” the waiter points to the next dish “…is the cured salmon caviar with violet flower. Finally, we have the French Laundry Salmon Tartare Cornets.”

I give him a blank stare.

“It’s a running joke.” Sophie laughs and hands me a beer. “Tristan Kane has very exquisite eating habits. He controls the restaurant and bar menus, to the annoyance of the chefs.”

“Sounds like a psycho.” Amy stares at the tray as the waiter waits patiently. “And he chose eel?”

“I’ll have all three.” I hold out my plate and take the bizarre little canapés. “It’s my right as a new trainee to accept all free food and drink.” Even if it does flare up my Crohn’s. Just like Amy I’ve never needed to research the effects of eel on a dodgy bowel.

“Brave,” Amy says. They watch me put the elderflower jellied eel in my mouth.

It’s surprisingly refreshing.

“Gross.” Sophie screws up her face and changes the subject. “Did you hear we are taking on the Maria Garcia case? It’s all over the news. Have you been following it?”

I nod, picking apart the violet flower. I’m not sure if it’s edible. “The Garcias were a bit of a celebrity couple in South America.”

“It’ll be an interesting case,” Sophie says.

More interesting than the cases I’m working on in the Financial Services sector, but I can’t say that out loud or I’ll sound ungrateful. Helping banks with regulatory demands and public policy wasn’t the thing that I imagined myself doing four years in university for. But my foot is in the door…even if I can’t stay at Madison Legal for longer than the trainee term.

“Oh my God.” Sophie gasps, flapping her hand and nearly flipping my plate. “I can’t believe he’s here.”

My heart stops for a beat as I absorb her words. I already know who he is because there’s only one person in the company who makes everyone’s voice go up a notch.

He’s by himself. Spines throughout the room gain a few inches as everyone attempts to be noticed by him.

My hand curls tightly around the beer glass.

The atmosphere immediately changes, like the Prime Minister has just walked in. Even HR and the senior lawyer babysitters seem excited. He looks like he’s walked straight out of Savile Row in a suit so sexy he should be gracing GQ magazine.

The three of us watch from the sidelines as junior and senior lawyers cluster around him.

I step behind Amy, trying to make myself inconspicuous.

“Does he use this bar often?” Amy asks, watching the scene.

“He does,” Sophie confirms. “Just rarely with the employees, only with management, and he never attends trainee drinks. In fact, this is a first time as far as I’ve heard. How exciting! Airtime with Tristan Kane.”

“He’s easy on the eye, isn’t he?” Amy murmurs.

I stiffen. “Hadn’t noticed.”

Sophie’s eyes widen. “You must be tired.”

“Or blind,” Amy adds. She’s right, it’s clear as day that the man is heartbreakingly handsome.

I watch people hover around him with a tightness in my chest. Some of the women are blatantly flirting. If I succumb to his advances, I’ll just be another girl unable to resist Tristan Kane. Do you realise that, you fool?

He works the room starting in the opposite corner. I don’t know whether to feel relieved or disappointed. I let my eyes briefly skirt over to his to replace I already have his attention. When our eyes meet across the crowd, he gives me a slow sexy smile like a private acknowledgement passing between us. As if he knows the power his gaze has over me.

My breath catches in my throat, and I look away, flustered.

“Let’s get more drinks,” Sophie suggests.

We nod at that fantastic idea and gravitate back towards the bar.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Tristan cosying up to one of the senior lawyers. The striking redhead stands out across the room. Mara, I think her name is. She’s tall and sexy beside him, a perfect match. He says something, and she laughs loudly, tilting her head back to reveal her neck. Flirting 101. A pang of jealousy shoots through me.

I swallow the lump in my throat. I’ve got no claim on him. Of course, he’s going to flirt with gorgeous women. How many women in this company has he really propositioned?

I turn my back to him. Out of sight, out of mind.

“I’ve changed my mind. I’ll have champagne,” I announce to Sophie when she starts to order our next round at the bar.

“Champagne’s a good option for you.” Amy grins. “You’ll be able to sleep through Frank the Shagger’s bedtime antics.”

“Or maybe you’ll sleep with Frank the shagger.” Sophie hands me the champagne.

“God, no.” I laugh loudly. The champagne slips down too quickly. “I won’t be sleeping with Frank the Shagger.”

The girls’ eyes widen like saucers as a deep voice behind me chimes in, “Unusual surname.”

How the hell did he manage to cross the room so quickly without me noticing?

“Mr. Kane,” Sophie says in a high-pitched squeal. “We weren’t expecting you. Don’t you have the Law Society annual ceremony this evening? You usually speak at it.”

I grimace and force myself to turn around. Standing with your back to the company owner isn’t the most strategic move, even if I am trying to hide from him.

“I sent one of the partners,” he answers Sophie, but his eyes hold mine. “I wanted to welcome our new recruits. I interrupted your conversation.” His lips curl into an amused smirk. “Don’t stop on my behalf.” He takes a step into the circle.

For Fuck’s sake. I stink of salmon and eel. I take another deep sip of my champagne.

His eyes fall to my lips as they part around the champagne glass, watching the liquid pass down my throat. The bubbles come out too quickly and I choke, spilling drops down my chin. Can’t he look at the others?

“What were you talking about?”

Our eyes dart between us. Do we make something up?

“This is outside of work hours. You don’t need to talk about work, ladies.”

“Eh,” says Amy, “Elly was just telling us the funniest stories about her house-share.” She grins at me as Sophie grimaces. “You should start a blog.”

“I’m pretty sure most graduates can resonate with my issues,” I reply dryly.

Amy looks guilty. With her flat fully paid for by her parents, she’s the exception.

“Who do you live with, Elly?” His voice is deep and husky. I wonder if Charlie and Sophie notice how seductive it sounds.

“Just a bunch of lunatics,” I mutter.

“Last night, one of them mistook her bedroom for the bathroom when he was sleepwalking,” Amy discloses, and this time Sophie’s look is filthy. I guess we’re wasting valuable airtime. “Can you imagine!”

Tristan looks appalled. “How do you know this guy?”

I shrug. “From the internet. Eight of us have been thrown together by fate/misfortune/the devil’s work/however you would like to view it.”

“Eight of you?” He scowls, turning towards me. I wonder if the others notice. “It sounds like a commune. You’re telling me you don’t know any of them?”

“Oh, I know things about them that I should never know,” I say. “I know their eating habits, sleeping patterns, work schedule, exercise regime…I could go on.”

He stares aghast. “Why don’t you replace somewhere by yourself to live?”

What a ridiculous question to ask someone under thirty in London. Does he know how expensive even renting a studio is?

“I can’t afford it,” I say in a clipped tone. “Yet.”

He rakes a hand through his thick dark hair. “How many are men?”

“Most of them,” I reply haughtily. “Have you always lived by yourself, Mr. Kane?”

He stiffens.

Sophie eyes widen.

“No,” he says after a beat. “But I’m alone now.”

Silence envelopes us. That was quite the conversation killer.

“What are your weekend plans, Mr. Kane?” Sophie asks with a dazzling smile.

He smiles warmly. “I’m spending the day with my son tomorrow. We’ve got tickets to rugby at Twickenham then we’re going to the Harry Potter theatre production. He’s getting to meet the cast.”

“Sounds lovely,” Sophie croons.

“Does he look like you?” I ask, feigning innocence. I already know the kid is the spitting image of his willowy ex-wife.

A muscle in his jaw jumps. My question has hit a deeper nerve than I expected. I just wanted to get a rise out of him. “No, he doesn’t look like me.” He changes the subject. “What are you ladies doing for this weekend?”

Sophie and Amy explain their weekend plans.

Now, it’s my turn.

His eyes brim with interest.

Me? What am I doing? Should I lie? Oh, what’s the point? “I’ll wake up early so I can be first in the queue for the washing machine. Then I’ll supervise the wash because if I don’t, someone else will take it out, and I’ll lose half my socks.”

Masculine laughter rings in my ears. The girls laugh too, like I’ve made a joke, but I’m deadly serious.

“That doesn’t sound very relaxing,” he says softly. “Perhaps you need to do something fun after it.” His eyes gleam. “Like swimming.”

I swallow too much air.

“I personally love swimming,” he continues in his low voice with a hint of humour in his eyes. “Really gets the blood pumping. Helps release tension. Especially if you have a great swimming partner.”

He slowly and deliberately runs his tongue over his bottom lip, smirking at me. I feel my face match the shade of the salmon tartare on the plate and I glance at the others. They look like smitten dogs.

“I love swimming too,” Amy chimes in.

“I would go swimming,” I reply, my throat dry, “if there weren’t so many arrogant swimmers in the water these days. It’s not worth it.”

He chuckles. The girls laugh loudly, overcompensating for their confusion. I don’t blame them; this conversation makes no sense. I’m wasting our precious moments with the CEO talking about arrogant swimmers?

“You should give it a chance again.” His lips twitch. “You might remember what you enjoyed about it. It can’t have been all bad.”

Sophie scrunches up her nose, very confused.

What’s he playing at?

“Maybe,” I squeak. Before he can respond, I down the last of my champagne. I’m going to have the final word here. “I have to run. I’m late. Enjoy your night.”

His smile vanishes as I slam the flute down on the bar, harder than I meant to.

Sophie flashes me a warning look.

Waving at the group, I turn on my heels, not looking back.

It’s a small victory. No one walks away from Tristan Kane.

Tristan

As I lift the velvet rope guarding the doorway, I see my best mates, Danny and Jack, already seated at the table. It’s sectioned off from the main restaurant because we like our dinners to be discrete, especially Danny, who replaces random pictures of himself eating on the internet.

“Always late.” Danny rolls his eyes as I stride towards the table.

“Always busy,” I reply, smiling at the beautiful hostess who takes my coat. “Why did we choose this place?” I ask in a low voice when she’s out of earshot. “The reviews aren’t amazing. Their steak tartare is barely supermarket-worthy.”

Jack snorts. “Then don’t order the tartare, simple.”

Danny shakes his head. “I don’t know where it’s come from. Your parents are Irish, for Christ’s sake, you grew up eating potatoes as a staple. How are you such a food snob?”

“I’m making up for lost time.” I nod to the Scotch without an owner. “Is that mine?”

“We pre-ordered one for you.” Danny smirks. “We didn’t want to keep you waiting without a drink.”

They toast me, and I take a sip.

Jack leans in. “Why did you bail on the law society dinner? You go every year religiously.”

I take a larger sip of my Scotch. “I’m not in the mood. I went to the welcome drinks for the new interns instead.”

“How saintly of you.” Danny cocks a brow. “I’m assuming for Tristan Kane to grace his presence at a lowly intern event, a certain gorgeous young Greek Goddess was there?”

“She’s not Greek. I just met her in the Greek islands. And she’s not a damn intern either, she’s a junior lawyer.”

“You didn’t answer the question,” Danny fires back.

Jack scrunches up his nose. ‘Remind me how you managed to orchestrate it so that she works for Madison?”

“I didn’t need to. Elly did.” I shrug. “She studied law, and I own Madison Legal. It’s a no-brainer. Where else would she want to work? Lucky for me, she’s clever enough to make the cut.” I undo another button on my shirt. “I asked her to go to dinner with me. I couldn’t tell you guys at breakfast with Mum listening like a hawk.”

“She’s a bit of a live wire.” Jack chuckles. “Sneaking into hotels and staying the night there? Aren’t you paying your staff enough?”

‘Don’t start. I’m hoping that was out-of-character behaviour.”

“Jack’s right.” Danny frowns. “She’s a junior at your firm. Is this wise?”

My face tightens. “It’s unfortunate but I’m not willing to give her up.” I run my hands through my hair. “It’s tortuous knowing she’s a few floors down. I can’t look at her without remembering her with her clothes off. I’m walking around with a permanent semi.”

Danny grins. “That must make work very…hard. So, when is this dinner date happening?”

I clench my teeth. “Actually, she said no.”

Jack presses his hands together in a slow, loud clap and looks at Danny. “This is a momentous occasion. The first lady in history to resist Mr. Kane.”

“It’s a setback,’ I mutter. “I’ll talk her around. Although Rebecca will have my nuts for pursing a junior lawyer.’

Jack cocks a brow. “Then what? Once you’ve dipped your pen in your own company ink, then what?’

“Stop making it sound so sordid.”

“A junior and the boss?” Danny rolls his eyes. “This reeks of a mid-life crisis.”

“Speak for yourself.” I snort. “How’s my sister?” Last summer, Danny’s tech company, Nexus, acquired the firm that my younger sister, Charlie, worked for. They started an affair behind my back. It was a turbulent time, and our friendship hit the rocks for the first time in two decades. Needless to say, I wasn’t happy when I found out, but Danny seems to be serious about Charlie. Although it’s very early days.

“She’s great, we’re heading to Scotland next weekend.” He smiles. “Besides, you can’t compare. I’ll marry Charlie. Are you going to marry a twenty-five-year-old trainee lawyer that sleeps in linen closets and make her a stepmum? Can’t you just buy another sports car and get this crisis out of your system that way?”

All valid points.

“So why this woman?” Jack tilts his head studying me. “I’ve seen her, she’s gorgeous but you’ve been out with women just as beautiful. Can’t you just sleep with someone else who doesn’t work at Madison?”

I let out a heavy sigh. “It’s not just sex. I liked being with her. She’s funny. When I was with her I felt less stressed. Not to mention she’s intelligent. And being multilingual is sexy as fuck. I made her moan in Croatian.”

They exchange glances.

“Just fuck a language teacher in that case.” Jack laughs. “I think it’s because she’s resisting you. This could all end in tears. Likely hers.”

“The odds are stacked against us,” I admit. “Besides, what twenty-five-year-old wants to carry my baggage?”

Danny’s brows furrow. “On that,” he starts carefully. “Are you going to talk about it?”

“No.”

Danny darts a glance at Jack for backup.

Jack clears his throat. “We’re worried about you, man. This isn’t something you get over easily.”

It. This.

Danny lowers his voice. “Tristan, you’ve barely talked about it since you found out. You’re bottling it up. This isn’t healthy.”

My chest tightens. “Leave it. I processed what happened a long time ago. Let’s enjoy the evening.”

Danny eyes simmer with frustration. “You processed half the story.”

Like I don’t know that.

“How is Daniel?” Jack asks, shaking his head subtly at Danny.

I slump into my chair. “He’s acting up a lot, not surprisingly. He’s not listening to the teachers in school, he’s sulking when he’s at home. We’re taking him to a child counsellor to process the split but I don’t know if it’s helping.” I release a breathy groan. “What do I do, ask my child to stop being a dick? The guilt I feel every day from breaking up his family… It’s soul-destroying.”

Danny leans in. “Can’t your mother help with advice?”

“No chance.” I groan. “She’ll march him down to the priest if she knows what he called the teacher assistant.”

“Don’t look at me for advice.” Jack chuckles “Although I’ll admit I’m slightly jealous. I would like a mini me. Think how handsome he would be.”

His face falls. “Sorry, man.”

“No need.”

I had come to terms with the fact I wasn’t Daniel’s paternal father. Bloodline or not, you can’t switch off feelings.

I drunk a whole bottle of Scotch the day my DNA test came back. Then I did the same the next day, and the next day. But eventually I processed it and found a way to move forward.

But Danny was right, that was half of the story.

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