The Partnership (Callaghan Green Series Book 10) Read online

  I wanted to talk about her hair. I’d grown up with three sisters: one quite a bit older, one the same age as me and another almost two years younger. Girls’ hair was something I’d found blocking the shower drain, in my hairbrush, occasionally in my food, sometimes around my toes. They’d spent hours straightening, curling and moaning about it, and to escape being whinged at, I’d learned to plait, braid and even do a semi-decent French pleat. The fact that I knew what all of those were probably meant I was at risk of losing my man card, but I was sure at some point, they’d gain me brownie points.

  Because of this, women’s hair had never been something that fascinated me, unless it was spread across my pillow or draped over my dick – maybe my man card was firmly in place.

  Georgia’s hair had been something else completely when she’d taken out the pins holding it together. It had dropped slowly, with a wave and a bounce like on a shampoo commercial. Thick dark red hair that fell down to the small of her back.

  I hadn’t been able to take my eyes away. Luckily, she’d clearly been feeling self-conscious and hadn’t noticed me staring like some kind of stalker.

  I’d never been so glad to have to go to a meeting.

  “I’m catching up with her this afternoon.” I kept my face expressionless and my eyes focused on the menu, even though I didn’t need it. Max could read me all too well.

  “Good.” His phone began to ring. “Hang on, it’s Victoria.”

  He started a conversation, his tone changing from grumpy, irritated boss man to soothing, sweet husband and future father.

  “Course, I’ll bring you one home. Extra cheese? Chips? With aioli?” There was a pause during which I heard Vic yelling. “I get it, you wouldn’t ask for anything that would do any harm, I know. So double cheeseburger from Pickled Rick’s with two portions of chips and aioli, and extra what… bacon and baconnaise sauce. I’ll remember that. I’ll get something for me too. Go put your feet up. Yeah, love you.” His eyes closed as he ended the call and he rubbed his eyes in a similar way to Jackson this morning.

  “The healthy eating?”

  “Appears to be over. Thank fuck.” He groaned. “I think I did the right thing agreeing to pick all that food up.”

  I looked at him, trying not to let my amusement show. “I think there’s only one correct word you can say to Vic at the moment.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Yes.”

  A shiny curtain of red hair fell down onto the new desk that had been set up in my office, a pile of books next to its owner. I stood in the doorway and turned into that weird man who stared at women again, watching Georgia’s lips move as she read through something on her laptop screen.

  I was fully aware she had no idea I was standing there, and I didn’t want to start our working relationship off with me scaring the crap out of her.

  Her lips moved again and this time she muttered something that sounded like a quote from a precedent. Beneath the red hair was fair skin and dark eyes. She’d worn lipstick this morning, but by now it was gone, pressed onto her coffee cup by the looks of things.

  Her eyes flickered up and she sat up straighter, her attention torn away from her work and onto me.

  I grinned, feeling a little awkward, as if I’d just invaded someone’s private time. “Sorry, I didn’t want to make you jump.”

  She blinked a couple of times as if focusing and smiled back. “You almost didn’t. I had no idea the door had even opened. How was your meeting with David Hartford?”

  I pushed my hands in my pockets and shrugged. “Interesting.”

  “Jackson explained the case briefly to me at lunch. Sounds interesting.” She stood up and walked towards me in a way that suggested she’d not properly moved for an hour or two. It was easy to get lost in work sometimes and lose track of time.

  She wasn’t tall, coming just to my shoulder, and she was slim, making me feel broader and bulkier. Her suit looked tailored and skimmed curves I was trying not to look at, keeping my eyes on hers.

  "It is. I don't know if he'll go with us though."

  "Oh? I thought it was a given from what Jackson said." She looked surprised.

  I gave a small shrug. “I didn’t lick his arse in the manner he wanted.”

  Her serious expression broke into a smile that lit up her whole face. She folded her arms and bit her bottom lip, seemingly trying not to laugh.

  “Seriously, he didn’t like that I was young, and he tried to negotiate cheaper rates. He also acted like a lech with the woman who owns the café where we were.” I should be putting on a more professional front, but I didn’t see the point. We were going to be sharing an office and working together; she was going to find out exactly what I was like at some point.

  There was a moment of quiet. “Good. It’s too easy sometimes to let clients think they own us because they’re paying.”

  “You don’t need to trade your morals in for a case. No one expects that here.”

  She gave one, almost unnoticeable nod. “That’s why I wanted to work for this firm. Principles.”

  I grinned. “Some of us have too many, such as Max.”

  “He seems pretty good to work with. So does Jackson.”

  I felt my smile fade. Her words had riled something in me and I didn’t like it. She was working in my department and it should be me who talked her through things, not Max or Jackson. Especially not Max.

  But then, I’d avoided her since the morning. “They’re both decent. I’m better though.”

  “Really?” She looked serious again. “You’ll have to prove it, I guess.”

  I wanted to get every certificate I owned out of my files and line them up on her desk for her to see, then I wanted to have my mother send over my school reports, any negative comments redacted, and read them out to her and I didn’t know why.

  She was my newest colleague, my business partner, and it didn’t matter that I wanted to take hold of a handful of that thick, silken red hair and wrap it round my fist; I was flying solo until I knew I was comfortable in my own skin.

  No distractions.

  Not even a red-headed one.

  I chose to ignore her battle cry. “Shall I talk you through the current files that are open. I know you’re going to need the assistants helping out with the files you brought, so we can see who’s best suited to each and tomorrow you can start bringing them up to speed.”

  We sat down next to each other at the small conference table that was in the office which was usually covered in files and paper, but had been tidied up each evening since January. The office itself was organised and lacked my usual spill of paperwork, partly because I knew I was going to be sharing it, but also because I needed to throw off the mantle of being a messy teenager that I’d worn even though it was over a decade since I’d actually been that age.

  I talked Georgia through each of the files, knowing more about some than others. The assistant solicitors were recently qualified and needed more oversight, so their cases I knew as well as them, stopping them from cocking up and making stupid mistakes. The associates’ cases I knew less well, not needing to micromanage.

  “This could go horribly wrong.” Georgia pointed to a note I’d made.

  I was writing things down as we talked so we could both refer back.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I had a case really similar which backfired because the client didn’t disclose another debt they’d held. If they’ve paid the supplier, then they wouldn’t be in this position now. That supplier they’ve mentioned will counter claim. I’ve been against them before.”

  We spent another ten minutes going through the details, arguing potential scenarios and coming up with a game plan that I’d put forward to Liane who was leading on the file tomorrow.

  This was what I’d needed; someone who could offer a challenge in the detail and didn’t just back down because of my surname.

  “What about this?” I gave her the outline of a case that had been plaguing
me. The client was difficult and just expected to click his fingers and have everything dealt with. Part of what was making it so difficult was his lack of understanding and expectation that we could pick up the phone to him no matter what day or time.

  She twisted her hair round her hand absently.

  I tried not to be jealous of her hand.

  “I’d bring him in for a sit-down meeting and and lay down professional expectations, with the final line that if he doesn’t stick to them, he’ll have to find representation elsewhere. I’d also move the case to an associate. They won’t need their hand holding as much as an assistant.” Her phone vibrated on the table but she ignored it, tapping her pencil instead.

  “He’s been in before, but maybe we weren’t blunt enough.”

  “So be blunt. Sometimes we have to be clear rather than kind.” She shrugged. Her phone vibrated again, this time for longer as a call came through. Again she ignored it.

  “Like David Hartford today. Max thinks he’ll stay with us.”

  “He will, because he knows you’ll tolerate his bullshit. You calling him out on it might’ve been a bit of a test to see how much you stood up for yourself? That case is not going to be easy. Have you got a forensic accountant in?”

  I nodded. “He’s a nice bloke. You’ll like him. Very into his work and tends to email first thing in the morning.”

  “Efficient. I appreciate that.” Her phone vibrated again, the screen lighting up with a text. “I’m really sorry – I need to read this.”

  “Sounds like someone really needs to get hold of you.” It occurred to me that I had no idea whether she was single, married, straight, gay – we hadn’t done anything other than talk about work, which I supposed was good. This was a professional relationship and we didn’t need to know the ins and outs of each other's private lives.

  But I was still curious.

  “Shit. I’m sorry, Seph, but I’ve got an emergency. I really have to go.” She was out of her chair before she’d even finished her sentence, grabbing her bag and coat. “I can get in early tomorrow if you want to carry on with this.”

  “Sure.” It would’ve been better if we could finish it now and I wanted to tell her that.

  I wasn’t arrogant. I didn’t think that because I was an owner of the firm, that because this was my family’s firm, I should be treated like a king, but I was surprised.

  It was her first day – rushing off halfway through a meeting wasn’t good form.

  I massaged the back of my neck, and closed my eyes, trying to shrug off a weighted cloud of disappointment. I needed a partner who could match my work ethic, not piss off because something urgent had come up.

  Standing up, I eyed the file that Jackson had snuck in with earlier, not even interrupting mine and Georgia’s conversation, just leaving it on my desk. I knew what it was; David Hartford had made his mind up and he was staying with us.

  I walked over there and sat down, starting to read through the notes that Jackson had made, photocopies and print outs of documents logically ordered.

  Georgia was forced out of my brain by the words, and I started to lose myself in litigation, forgetting about her red hair and her laugh, but the itch of irritation of her leaving so suddenly didn’t quite go.

  It remained there like the very last part of a splinter that you just can’t remove.

  Chapter Five

  Georgia

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  I’d happily throw in a few fucks too, but running in heels had me breathless, and getting across Borough market at six in the evening when the streets were full of pedestrians was a bit like being a kamikaze sprinter, just one who hadn’t had enough time to do any cardio.

  Once upon a time I’d religiously attended yoga and spin classes like my place in heaven depended on it. Nowadays, those classes were but a fond memory, until days like today when I needed my lungs to be able to not pack up on me and my legs to feel a little less like jelly after just three blocks.

  Thankfully, my heels were minimal, because age and experience had given me some sense and I knew well enough by now that emergencies could happen at any time. Especially on your first day of a new job.

  Fuck.

  This was not the impression I’d wanted to make on Joseph Callaghan. I’d expected us to be talking through cases for at least another couple of hours, me going through the files I’d brought with me, showing off – because that was what I needed to do to justify my employment right now – and impressing him. Seph may’ve been a year or so younger than me, but his CV was longer, and his influence was going to be crucial on my career for the next few years.

  If leaving this evening hadn’t totally cocked everything up.

  I slowed to a fast walk, my lungs finally protesting. At some point, when things had settled and I had a routine and schedule that worked, I needed to sign up for some classes again, regain some fitness. Not feel like I had the lungs of a ninety-year-old smoker after less than a kilometre.

  My phone vibrated in my bag, a Mulberry Bayswater my sister had treated me to after she’d had a particularly good month at work. Right now, I wanted to lift that bag and belt her across the tummy with it, cursing her job and the colleague that she was currently with as they were having a meltdown.

  I got it. The pressures of being a solicitor were sometimes huge, but nothing compared to working in finance and dealing with whatever stocks things Olivia dealt with. Technically, she should’ve burned out by now, but she hadn’t, probably because she was sponsored by gin and a series of very attractive, very muscular younger boyfriends who provided her with an outlet for her stress.

  Today, Olivia was the source of my stress and she was going to find out all about it when I got home.

  We were renting a house together in Southwark while we both decided what to do on a more permanent basis. Liv had the option of moving over to New York in a few months, but she hadn’t decided yet whether she was going to go or not, and I knew the reason was me. Our mother had finally made the decision to go and live with her new partner in Spain, which was the right choice for her and meant we were in for some decent holidays at some point, but it left me a little short. Liv’s rental agreement on her apartment in Soho had come to an end and I was moving into London, so it made sense for us to house share while she made her mind up.

  If I didn’t end up losing my job due to having to leave in the middle of a meeting, I’d probably look to buy somewhere in Southwark, within walking distance of everything I needed.

  I fished my phone out of my bag and saw Olivia’s name. I knew she’d be mortified and I also knew that if she could’ve left work when she’d anticipated, she would.

  “I’m so sorry, Georgie.” Her words torrented out as soon as I answered. “I couldn’t leave her. Her husband texted her today to say he was leaving her for his mistress, and she messed up on a really big portfolio – I’ve managed to stop a huge loss, but I just…”

  I pushed the annoyance and frustration back down into my stomach and took a big breath. I definitely needed to go back to yoga classes, find that inner peace instead of that inner demon.

  “It’s okay, Liv, I’m nearly there.” I was, the pretty light-green door that was surrounded by snowdrops like a beacon calling me.

  “So am I. I didn’t know how long I’d be and I’m so sorry. Please tell me you had done for the day. Your first day should’ve been easy, right?”

  I could hear her heels clicking on the pavement and figured she was running. My sister never ran.

  “I was in a meeting with Seph Callaghan.”

  “Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Let me send him an email apologising…”

  “Don’t.

  “Why not? This is my mess.”

  I stopped outside the door, my heart rate calming slightly now I was there. “Because he doesn’t know.”

  “What?” It was a shriek that most of London probably heard. “They don’t know – what the fuck, Georgia?”

  “I’ll ta
lk to you about it later.” I hung up on her, my priority not appeasing my sister right now, and knocked on the door.

  I heard giggles and happy noises from behind it before it opened, and when it did I saw Elspeth Smalley, a slim, older woman who wore her grey hair in a tight bun on top of her head and could’ve appeared in a Victorian novel.

  She gave me a sympathetic smile. “You didn’t need to rush. Your sister called me and explained and it’s fine. I’m not one of those who adds on charges if you’re late, or who judges.”

  I felt my eyes prick with tears, the guilt that I’d been living with for four years battering my chest, and then everything went away when I saw what I’d come for.

  “Mummy!”

  She was tiny, just like she’d always been, and absolutely perfect. I bent down and small arms wrapped around my neck, legs going straight round my waist. She smelled of talcum powder and children’s paint, her little, strong heart fluttering against my chest.

  I kissed the top of her head, the dark brown hair tangled and loose, despite the braid I’d popped it in this morning. Rose hated having her hair tied back and was already stamping her foot – quite literally – at having it cut at all.

  “How was today?”

  It wasn’t her first day at her new nursery or the first time she’d been looked after by Elspeth; last week had been spent settling her in and she’d had introductory visits the week before that. Really, she’d probably just needed a single day, as my daughter was sociable and confident. It was her mother who’d needed to see her settled and happy, and safe.

  “Very good. I painted at nursery and Els made Addy and me a snack and fruit and we did crafts at the table.” She turned around in my arms to point towards the child minder and the other little girl, Adeline, who was the same age and at the same nursery school.

  I waved at Addy and gave Elspeth another apologetic smile. “My sister shouldn’t be late tomorrow. This was unusual.”

  It was. Olivia was usually at work by five in the morning, but then left at four. She was strict with her hours having seen too many of her colleagues burn out, so I knew today was a blip.