Legally Addicted - By Lena Dowling Page 0,50

be temporary, she had been kidding herself.

And…it scared the very bejeezus out of her.

Back at the office in Sydney after the minibreak in Samoa with Georgia, Brad felt remarkably refreshed. Once they had both apologised following the horrendous airline ticket incident, the rest of the weekend had been uneventful. Well, not completely uneventful. He smiled, recalling the make-up sex. It had been almost worth the argument. Something had changed with Georgia. He couldn’t put his finger on it exactly, but she seemed more relaxed around him, more at ease. Maybe it was the surroundings. A tropical resort could have that effect on a person, but whatever it was, he wasn’t complaining.

His smile collapsed, however, when he looked up to respond to his secretary, Louise. His assistant was puffed from running in front of a determined Caro who, at a full head taller than his secretary, was visible behind his assistant. Louise had stopped in the doorway, gripping the frame to prevent Caro charging on through.

‘I’m sorry, Brad, Mrs Marsden doesn’t have an appointment but she wouldn’t take no for an answer.’

‘That’s okay, you can let her in.’

Caro barely waited for his assistant to step out of the way before barrelling through the door to his office.

‘Brad, I’m glad I caught you.’

Brad clamped his teeth together to avoid letting out an oath. He looked at his watch. He had only been back at work an hour and he had his usual legal work, a pile of Spencer Trust documents to review, and the financial statements from the resort to go over. He also had Georgia’s addiction centre proposal to read, which she had given him on the plane trip back to Sydney. The last thing he needed now was Caro Marsden wittering on about napkin colours, seating plans and God damn canapés.

Caro Marsden waved a set of bright red talons in the direction of the empty chair opposite his desk.

‘Take a seat,’ he said, quite sure she was about to anyway. ‘If it’s about the gala — ’

‘You know she’s only interested in you for your money. She wants you to fund this ludicrous addiction centre idea of hers.’

Brad’s brain lurched forwards as Caro cut him off, electing to open the conversation somewhere in the middle of her own spite filled thoughts.

‘So we’re talking about Georgia then are we, Caro?’

‘Georgia, yes — keep up Brad, who else? Georgia is playing you.’

Caro had a nerve. He could appreciate that the woman had his best interests at heart. As his mother’s friend she obviously felt she was doing him a favour, but his patience was rapidly wearing out.

‘I think you’ve got her completely wrong, Caro. Georgia’s never asked for anything from me — in fact, quite the opposite.’

‘Playing it cool is she? Well she’s got more sense than I’ve given her credit for, but it’s only a matter of time before she comes looking for money.’

‘That’s enough, Caro. I’m sorry, but we will just have to agree to disagree where Georgia is concerned, so if there is nothing else?’

‘Of course, Bradley. I’ll shut up now that I’ve said what I came to say on that particular topic, but just don’t say you weren’t warned. Without your mother here I felt a duty, but I won’t press the point. Now about the gala, I had a few ideas…’

Brad looked at his watch, pulling back his sleeve and staring at it, meaningfully this time, before looking up. For once the ridiculous timepiece his mother had given him was good for something.

‘I don’t have much time, Caro, and I’ve been meaning to tell you, I’ve delegated my role in that to Jeffrey, my butler. I understand that you’ve worked with him before?’

‘Oh yes,’ Caro’s face lit up. ‘Jeffrey is fantastic. So resourceful and well organised and yet never oversteps his position.’

Unlike Georgia, he thought, who had the balls to not just overstep her position, but to take a running jump at it and sail over the top.

‘Thanks for dropping in, Caro. Always a pleasure,’ he lied.

Brad stood up from his desk, and walked over to his door, opening it wide in his standard manoeuvre for propelling out any client who had outstayed their welcome. It rarely failed, as the client reacted subconsciously to the command inherent in the body language.

Thankfully Caro proved to be no exception to the rule, following him to the threshold like a lamb, walking through the door and the heading back towards reception with a wave over her shoulder. But Brad was