Читать книгу One Summer Night - Emily Bold - Страница 7

Mountains of Files

Lauren was humming along to the song she had heard earlier on the radio when she was driving to the law firm with her dad. She couldn’t remember the song title, but the melody had been stuck in her head all day. And she didn’t even particularly like it.

Gingerly, she climbed the wobbly step stool and fished the next handful of binders from up high on the shelf, all the while deriding herself for picking such a short skirt that morning. She had decided to show the world that her diet was working – as motivation to herself, in a way. But this stepladder would be far easier to navigate wearing a pair of jeans. Back to back on the shelves sat the legal files of clients, the court records, the case files, and the statements of claim. Everything older than ten years had to be destroyed on a regular basis, and this was her job during term break. She pulled out five binders all at once, heaving them onto the big desk in a corner of the sparsely lit basement. The computer screen in front of her flickered in the faint light of the fluorescent tube, and with dusty fingers she typed each binder’s record number into the system. Every page, every sheet of paper she fed into the document shredder had to be meticulously recorded.

After she had finished that task and checked each number one final time, she grabbed the binders and made her way to the fourth-floor copy room where the only shredder stood. Years ago Lauren had suggested they purchase an additional document shredder for the basement archive, just so she wouldn’t have to haul every single binder from the basement all the way up several flights of stairs. But her request had been denied. The risk of accidentally destroying a legal file would be too great, she was told. Right! Lauren could see it before her now: one of the paralegals would pull an extremely important binder from the shelf, would then trip, tumble from the ladder, switch on the shredder in mid-air, and somehow the binder would then disappear in-between the heavy-duty rotating blades. Yes, this sounded extremely likely and probably happened all the time in companies around the world. Which was why she was now trying to balance the stack of binders on her arms, bending backward so that the files rested against her chest, neck, and chin rather than falling to the floor. If one binder slipped, the others would tumble along with it.

After the first couple of steps she noticed that a strand of her hair had caught in a paper clip. She strained her neck to pull it free, but failed. And so with each step she took she was pulling on her hair, so she quickly switched gears to get rid of her load sooner. Using her elbow, she pressed the well-worn elevator button and leaned against the wall until a soft hum announced the elevator’s arrival. The doors opened quietly, and she was welcomed by soft music and a pleasantly warm light. As if that made hauling around these dust-covered binders worthwhile!

Carefully, she maneuvered them into the elevator and stuck out her tongue to her stressed-out reflection in the mirror. Only then did she notice that the button for the second floor was lit. ‘Just my luck!’ she thought, rolling her eyes in irritation. She was throwing her back out lifting stupid binders, and now the elevator would probably stop on every single floor. Her arms were shaking under the weight, and she tried again to pull free her hair. When the doors opened, the stack of files jiggled dangerously.

‘Dammit!’ she muttered, pressing her chin over the top binder and looking over at the man who had entered the elevator and was pressing the button for the third floor. Just her luck. She snorted quietly, but he must have heard her because he turned around. Lauren froze when his ice-blue eyes met hers. His eyebrows shot up in surprise. He ran his hand through his hair.

‘Hi,’ he said with a huge grin, eyeing her stack of binders. ‘Those wouldn’t be evidence and lawsuit documents regarding the hot coffee at the diner? I sure hope not, because I quite liked going to that place.’

‘What?’ Lauren’s head sprung up. The strand of hair pulled at the paper clip, came loose, and fell over her eyes. She tried blowing it out of her face, but it didn’t work. Her blue-eyed Prince Charming smiled and helped her tug the curl behind her ear.

‘Better?’

‘What?’ Lauren’s skin tingled where he had touched her, and the feeling of it chased away any sensible thought. She felt like a parrot repeating herself, but found it impossible to follow his words. What coffee? What lawsuit? And better than what? Patiently, as if explaining something to a child, he leaned in her direction.

‘Who’s representing you?’ And, after a glance at her confused face, he added, ‘Who’s your attorney? Who are you looking for? Maybe I can help . . .’

‘Help? Me?’ Lauren tried to make sense of what the handsome stranger was saying. ‘Who the hell are you?’ she asked, wheezing under the weight of her binders.

‘I’m sorry, my bad. Tim Parker: trial lawyer. And you are . . . ?’

He held his hand out to her, but quickly withdrew it again when he realized that she was unable to move hers. Helpfully, he offered to relieve her of most of the binders.

‘You work here?’ Lauren asked in surprise, tucking the last remaining binder under her arm and smoothing down her sweater, revealing a little more cleavage. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around here before.’

Now it was the lawyer’s turn to act surprised. The elevator doors opened but no one got in and he didn’t get out.

‘What do you mean? What do you do around here?’

‘That was your floor,’ Lauren reminded him as the doors closed quietly.

‘Yeah. No. I mean, yes – it was, but,’ he motioned toward the binders, ‘where do those need to go?’

‘One more floor. I . . . You must be new, because I know all the other lawyers here at the firm.’

Lauren clenched her teeth. Bleurgh. Lawyer! Sure, if she were a lawyer she’d be able to see eye to eye. Instead she was going to have to explain that she was probably the least qualified person in this entire building.

‘No, I . . . This is just a job during term break. I’m Lauren.’ She attempted a smile but felt stupid and almost wished for the elevator’s steel cables to snap so that this dreadful journey would finally come to an end.

Tim Parker, the man she had lost an entire night’s sleep over, was even more handsome close up than he had been when she saw him at the diner for the first time. The tiny scar on his lip drew her attention. It was a flaw in an otherwise flawless face. A flaw that was deeply sensual, somehow. He was still looking at her, still waiting for an answer, and it flattered her – he was interested, even if it was only because he was probably thinking about calling Security on her. In his dark suit and pale-blue shirt that really brought out the color of his eyes, he looked a little older than he did yesterday. The suit jacket hid his athletic figure, which was a good thing because Lauren was finding it hard enough to think straight.

‘Lauren . . . Nice to meet you. So, you’re still in school? What’s your major? Traffic defense law? Economic law?’

Lauren could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks.

‘I’m in art school,’ she managed to squeeze out and breathed a sigh of relief that the fourth floor light finally came on.

She stepped through the doors as soon as they opened, keeping her head low.

‘Thank you, I can take it from here.’

She was about to reach for her binders, but Tim stepped out into the hallway with her before she could. Suddenly, the narrow hall with its soft, grey carpeting and its teal walls seemed to close in around her. The sheer presence of this man made her feel unsettled. Which she enjoyed – and hated at the same time. She’d never felt this way before. Need she remind herself that this Tim Parker person had a girlfriend – and so she urged her goddamn heart to get a goddamn hold of itself, do its job, and start pumping blood into her brain for a change.

‘Don’t be silly, they’re way too heavy. So, where are we going?’

He glanced down the hallway, and Lauren shrugged her shoulders. She’d be rid of him sooner if she let him get on with it. Without saying a word she marched ahead of him into the copy room. Her new skirt suddenly seemed very tight, and she thought she could feel him staring at her backside. Sheepishly, she motioned toward a table.

‘Just put them down over here. Thank you so much!’

Did her voice sound a little unsteady? She licked her lips and cleared her throat as inconspicuously as she could. Tim did as he was told and then wiped his hands on his upper thighs. He took a look around the tiny room and nodded.

‘So art, huh? And how . . . do you balance that with shredding documents?’

Didn’t he have someplace else to be? She was finding it hard enough not to propose right then and there.

‘Yep, art,’ she said curtly. ‘Peter Latham is my dad. I’ve no say when it comes to shredding.’

Her little joke made Tim smile, and he bowed his head in reverence. ‘I see.’ He looked at Lauren as if contemplating whether he should have guessed her status as first daughter here at the firm. ‘My normal advice would be to seek legal counsel in the case of employer coercion, but . . . but in this case . . . I mean, seeing that I might risk my job . . .’ He gave her a wink, and his dimples were back. ‘I won’t, but instead I will offer to help with these binders again any time you need.’

Lauren laughed out loud. She pushed the files aside and leaned with her hip against the tabletop to make herself look even skinnier. This Tim guy was a hole-in-one! Not only because he was devastatingly handsome, but also because he was a pleasure to be around. His voice was wonderful: deep and masculine and confident; and the fresh scent of his cologne conjured up images of him standing under the shower.

‘Oh, I see which way the wind blows. Where are all the good men who cross hell and high water for a damsel in distress? Who face every danger and pay any price just to win a lady’s favor?’

‘Sorry, haven’t seen any of those around in a long time!’ Tim admitted with a grin and turned toward the door. ‘But, Lauren, since you’re not going to sue the diner after all – perhaps we could, as compensation for my lack of heroic chivalry, go grab a coffee sometime?’

He was leaning in the doorway, waiting for her answer, and his ice-blue eyes were holding her captive. He engulfed her, wrapped her up in his smile, in his scent, and in his easy, noncommittal words. So what if she met up with him for coffee?

‘And what are you going to tell your girlfriend?’ she ventured.

Tim took an audible breath and ran his hand over his tie. Only then did he look up again. ‘You mean Caroline? From the diner?’ He hesitated. ‘She’s not my girlfriend. We . . .’

‘You’re just having sex?’

He curled up the corners of his mouth and raised his hands in an exasperated gesture.

‘That’s one way of putting it, yes.’

‘She’s . . . very pretty.’

Tim smirked. ‘So are you.’

Lauren felt the heat in her cheeks and a flutter in the pit of her stomach. She couldn’t fail to notice that he was coming on to her.

‘So she wouldn’t have a problem with us seeing each other from time to time?’

Now it was his turn to sheepishly rub his chin.

‘Exclusivity is not a requirement in our . . . relationship.’ He winked at her. ‘We can see each other – if you like.’

Lauren didn’t really know what to say. She didn’t want to muscle in on someone else’s relationship, but Tim was a great guy, and she felt drawn to him. On the other hand, what could really happen with a man who was somehow involved with someone else?

‘Lauren?’ he followed up on his question and glanced out the door, saying hello to someone who was passing in the hall. ‘So, what do you say? Will you go out with me?’

‘Fine!’ she caved in and pushed herself off the table. ‘But if the coffee is too hot again we’ll turn this into a class action suit. Art doesn’t pay, you know.’

A smile was dancing around his lips, and with a wink he disappeared into the hallway.

‘Lauren Latham,’ she scolded herself after spending several moments staring at the spot where Tim had stood only seconds ago. ‘You are not going to be silly and fall for a guy who is so obviously a womanizer!’

Deep in thought, she opened the first binder and pulled out a pile of documents. Then she started the shredder and spent several hours turning old minutes of proceedings into strands of paper spaghetti. In her mind she was still standing in the elevator with Tim Parker. And the more thinly cut paper strips the shredder spat out, the clearer it became to Lauren that Tim had to absolutely come to her birthday party. And if she had to invite the entire law firm just to convince him, then she would do that, too.

* * *

‘You’ve always been the kind of person who takes what she wants. And you have no idea how glad I was when you took the initiative,’ Tim admitted as he looked around. The people gathered here tonight had been a part of Lauren’s life for so much longer than he had. And he was full of gratitude that he was allowed to be one of them. Rachel, her brother Chris, and Lauren’s family were his family today, too. He knew, come what may, they’d be there for him. He knew he was going to need them, and soon. And he also knew that they would give him the support he needed when the time came.

‘That’s girls for you,’ Rachel chimed in. ‘If you guys can’t get your act together, then we need to take our fate into our own hands.’

She got up, bent forward, and threw a couple of pieces of wood into the flickering flames. Nobody here wanted the fire to go out – tonight, it held them all together. Then Rachel took her seat next to Lauren.

‘That’s just how we are. We decide what we want.’ There were tears in her eyes, but her smile was full of warmth and love. She was no longer speaking about what happened then. She was speaking about what was going to happen. She understood – and this was so endlessly important to Lauren.

Carefully, trying not to wake Alyssa who was sleeping in her lap, Lauren leaned over and hugged her best friend.

‘No tears today,’ she reminded her, but could nevertheless feel the hard lump in her own throat.

Rachel nodded and dabbed her eyes with a tissue. It was black with smudged mascara.

‘All right, fine, distract me. Tell us how the story continues,’ Rachel asked.

‘Oh lord, it’s been such a long time! I’m not sure I can get all the pieces of memory to fit together,’ Lauren admitted and furrowed her brow in concentration. She was trying to keep her composure, for the night was still young. She did not want the mood to turn sour. ‘You guys were all there. Help me. What’s the next bit of the story?’

‘Well, that’s easy,’ Tim said, coming to her aid with a big grin. ‘You were smitten with me.’

Lauren smiled. Under the blue night sky, in the soft, romantic light of the bonfire, it was easy for her to agree with him.

‘Yeah, I had a crush on you – I had fallen for you big time,’ she admitted, and amidst her brother Ben’s cheers Tim pulled Lauren backward and leaned in. Giggling like a schoolgirl, she gave in to her husband’s passionate kiss.

Suddenly, the night no longer felt cold. And for a moment she even forgot about the throbbing pain behind her temples. She was filled with a feeling of warmth and happiness, and it made her heart speed up. A feeling too rarely felt these past few months.

‘Oh, yes, the party! I remember it well. Mia honey, your mother used to throw lots of wild parties down here by the lake,’ Peter Latham explained to his thirteen-year-old granddaughter with a twinkle in his eye.

‘For real?’ Mia prodded without hesitation. Lauren could almost see her mind calculating whether this piece of information could somehow be of use to her.

‘Well, they weren’t that wild!’ Lauren objected, but her dad only smiled into his silvery beard.

‘All right, so maybe the parties weren’t that wild,’ he conceded, amused. ‘Otherwise I would never have allowed you to invite your whole tribe all the time.’ He let his eyes wander from face to face by the fire. Everyone knew that he considered his daughter’s friends to be part of the family.

‘Do you remember what you used to tell us back in the day?’ Rachel turned to Peter. Her black hair had an almost blue sheen in the moonlight, and with her raspy voice she sounded like a fortune teller. She waved at Mason and offered him a grateful smile when he walked over.

‘Truer words were never spoken, Peter. We should have taken them to heart much sooner,’ Rachel remembered and reached for her beloved’s hand.