Resisting Mr. Kane (London Mister #2)(33)

“Can’t you and your friend move somewhere else?” Amy asks as we walk to the elevator.

“Not anytime soon.” I shake my head as we wait for the next elevator. “It’s cheap, and we can’t afford a two-bed yet. Although I’m spending any extra savings on takeaways because the kitchen is always occupied, and I swear I’m buying toilet paper for the entire house. The couple in the basement leaves us little ‘presents’ in the kitchen like half-eaten toast. It’s just all getting on my nerves.”

A man clears his throat behind us, and we turn, and I look straight into the eyes of Tristan Kane. He and another man are standing in the elevator waiting for us to get in.

“Mr. Kane,” Sophie says in a breathy tone. I think she’s got a bit of a crush.

He arches a brow, smiling, and beckons us into the lift. “There’s room.”

I step tentatively into the elevator and turn to the front to avoid his gaze. The elevator doors close, trapping me inside with him. It's too cramped now. The box isn’t big enough for his presence. What is it about elevators that just intensify everything by 100 per cent? Holding my breath, I watch the buttons light up on the elevator control panel as we ascend. I feel like hitting the emergency alarm button.

“Maybe you could look at a neighbourhood farther out? It’s cheaper at the end of the Northern line,” Amy whispers loudly.

What’s she on about? Oh, the conversation we were having.

“We looked through ads last week,” I say in a low voice. “The only one in our budget was advertised as ‘looking for a female to share with one mature male, free of charge.’”

Amy and Sophie chuckle. Easy for them to laugh, Sophie can afford a mortgage, and Amy’s secured a flat from the bank of Mum & Dad Ltd.

As the elevator pings open on the tenth floor, I rush out, taking in a deep breath.

“Have a good day, ladies,” the deep voice calls after us.

Sophie and Amy swoon and respond, but I’m halfway down the aisle, sprinting to my desk.

“What do you think of the first proper week?” Amy asks me in a hushed tone when Sophie excuses herself to take a call.

I check if Sophie is close enough to hear us. “I’m finding the financial services cases a bit boring. Particularly the documents I need to review. Four years of debt, twenty different student flatmates, three infestations of mice, and gallons of bad cider. Sometimes you wonder if it’s worth it.”

She shrugs. “Apparently ninety percent of law is admin. Even the most exciting cases require you to read the same document five times. I think we’ll have to get used to it.”

“I know, and I sound ungrateful when it’s been my dream to get a position here. I’m just so cranky after no sleep.”

She claps her hands together. “Oh, there are drinks tonight! That’ll wake you up. I can’t wait to see the bar upstairs.”

“Are the drinks in the building?” I ask, surprised. “There’s a bar here?”

She looks at me like a moron. “Top floor.”

“It’s just the trainees, right?” I ask cautiously. Any possibility of Tristan Kane in the vicinity makes my anxiety levels hit the roof.

“Apparently the HR team will be there to babysit us. To make sure that the new grads don’t go buck mad and wreck the place.” She laughs. “Or buck one another, I guess.”

I nod. “Makes sense.”

Sophie comes back into earshot.

“Sophie, none of the partners will be at the drinks tonight, right?” I ask. “Any chance of Rebecca Milford and…eh…Tristan Kane joining?”

She snorts. “No chance. You probably won’t talk to them for the next two years except nods in hallways. Your induction talk was an exception. You can have fun at the drinks without worrying about behaving yourself in front of management.”

Good. I can relax now. There’s no reason why Tristan Kane and I would cross paths. I can take the stairs from now on, it’s only ten floors.





11




Elly

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.