I stare at her dumbfounded. “You never said you could play golf. Don’t tell me that’s beginner’s luck.” I feel a strange sense of pride.
She looks at me pointedly. “You never asked. I didn’t realise you guys were so competitive. I used to work on a golf course in Wales,” she explains, swinging her club. “I just picked it up.”
The three of us stare at her with fresh awe. Damn, the entire morning I have been ranting about how I’ve been playing for two decades. My confidence in winning this game is waning.
Her eyes light up. “It’s your turn, Tristan. Did we agree on what the winner gets?” she adds, blinking innocently.
Jack lets out a loud laugh. “Oh my God, this really is the woman of your dreams, Kane.”
***
We leave two hours early to get to Bronzefield prison. One, because crossing London is a nightmare and two, from experience I know how slow it is to get through the prison processing. Adi and Elly have accompanied me. Both Adi and I have been to prisons many times, including high security prisons, but this is clearly Elly’s first visit, as she peers around it, wide-eyed. My lips twitch as she looks completely freaked when she’s asked to stand still while the drug sniffer dog inspects her. To reassure her, I place my hand on her lower back, then drop it when I realise where I am.
Maria is waiting for us in a private visitor room. It’s a far cry from the former Embassy that she was holed up in. She might be up for murder, but her husband owned a number of hotels and assets in her name making her a very rich woman.
She looks shockingly stunning for a prisoner. The woman takes care of what nature has blessed her with.
“How are you, Maria?” I pull out a chair for Elly then take a seat beside Maria.
“Shit,” she snaps in her sexy Colombian accent. “When are you getting me out of this dump?”
“We’re building a compelling case to bring to the Supreme Court. I’d just like to circle around a few things one more time.”
She nods that she understands.
“We need your full disclosure, Maria,” I say. “If all the facts aren’t revealed up front, if some are missed, there is the potential that they could surface at a later stage and be used against you.” I lean
forward in my seat. “Remember you have our full confidentiality under your client privilege.” She crosses her legs, relaxing one leg on top of the other.
“We need to know all the facts, no matter how insignificant you may think they are. Us lawyers hate surprises.” I smile, hoping it will reassure her. “You previously told us you never came into contact with any of the victims. Did your husband ever mention their names in front of you?”
“No.”
“You never saw photographs, never heard phone recordings, heard any of their names in conversations?”
“No to all,” she repeats sharply.
I nod. “So, the first time you were aware of any of the victims was two nights before your husband’s death, is that correct?”
“Yes. Where is this going, Mr. Kane?”
I smile warmly. “The phone records will go back one year so we need to make sure that there’s nothing that could bring your case into dispute.”
Something flickers on her face, fear perhaps. It’s gone before I can process it.
Adi jumps in with further questioning, ironing out details on what happened in the two days leading up to her husband’s death. Something is off. I wasn’t joking when I said lawyers hate surprises. I’ll speak to Adi later; we’re going to have to check those phone records with a fine-tooth comb. If there’s one thing that gets my blood boiling, it’s someone tarnishing the Madison Legal brand.
22
Elly
I’m in deep trouble.
Any sense of self-preservation or rational thought has evacuated my body, and I’ve fallen for Tristan Kane hard. Since our golf outing two weeks ago, I’ve had so many orgasms I’m concerned my face will freeze in a permanent contortion. Sexologists will study me.
Then there were the heated visits to Maria Garcia in prison. Tristan was accompanying us less these days, but on the two trips he did join us, I felt like the others could tell I was fucking the boss just from my face. Especially since I had just fucked the boss a few hours before.
On the second visit, he sat beside me in the meeting room, and his thigh touched mine for the entire hour. At one point, his hand went under the table and skimmed over my thigh, and I nearly yelled. Focusing on what the team was asking Maria took all my strength. In contrast to Tristan, who was able to conduct a full client interview.
I told him off after that meeting. Even if he is a skilled multitasker, he cannot be so overtly sexual with me at work.
Megan was right about the lethal body, face and accent combination, but for me it was not just about physical attraction; it never had been. The guy has the sexiest mind. Never mind trainees, established lawyers with years of experience would kill to be shadowing Tristan Kane on a case.
I shouldn’t have let things get so intense this quickly. The harder I fall, the more scared I am. I spent pretty much the entire two weeks holed up at his stately home being treated like a queen.
The cynic in me worries that it’s just a matter of time before my Anne Boleyn style fall from grace, since there are plenty of hot Jane Seymours vying to take my crown.
“Are you coming, Elly?” Amy asks, handing me a coffee.
I nod, and we step in line with Sophie and other lawyers from the Financial Services sector. Madison Legal’s annual conference is being held at the Business Innovation Centre, one of the only venues in London with enough capacity to accommodate the UK offices. Crowds move forward into the auditorium.
“This place is huge!” I gasp as we enter the domed amphitheatre with cinema-style seating.
There’s a loud hum of conversations as the 2000 Madison Legal UK employees cram into the theatre. A mixture of accents colour the room. People have flown in from the Scotland and Northern Ireland branches and other European satellite offices.
“Music events and theatre productions are held here as well as corporate events,” Sophie explains as someone ushers us down an aisle to our seats, halfway down the auditorium.
“I forgot my glasses,” I mutter. “This place is so big I won’t be able to see.” To see him.
“Don’t worry,” she says over the dull roar as we sit down. “The speakers will be on the big screen.”
Tristan has to talk in front of all these people? I feel a pang of panic for him, which is silly because he barely mentioned the conference last night. He even polished off half a bottle of wine with me.
“Our Managing Partner and CEO Tristan Kane will now open the event,” the Head of Events announces through the microphone.
Spotlights from above focus on the centre stage. Conversations peter out. Everyone is waiting for him.