“The only other person who checks their phone more than you is Jackson, and that’s because he’s pussy-whipped,” my most irritating sibling told me, trying to peer around my hand to see what was on the screen.

I moved my phone away, having no intention of letting him read any of the conversation between me and Victoria.

“It’s work,” I said, still looking at my phone. “If you ever took your life seriously, you’d be doing work stuff on your phone.” I had no issue with lying my ass off to Seph.

“I got the contract, by the way,” he said. “The one with Tudors.”

“Well done,” I muttered, typing a reply back to Victoria. “Remind me to buy you a big shiny medal.”

“This is why I prefer Jackson to you. He actually listens to me!” Seph reached his hand out and grabbed my phone.

“What the… Give me that back, now!” I tried to take it from him, but he stuffed it into his jacket pocket. “Bastard.”

“We’re having coffee in public. There are small children present who don’t need to learn bad words just yet and you can have your phone back later.” Seph said, sipping almost delicately at an espresso. He’d spent a holiday in Rome over the summer and had come back thinking he was the king of Italian etiquette when in fact he just looked like a twat. I’d told him just as much, several times.

“I think your first word was ‘fuck’,” I said, trying not to let the withdrawal symptoms from my phone show too much.

Seph laughed. “It is mum’s favourite word, so I’m not surprised. What was Payton’s? Shit or fucking cunt?”

Marie was my stepmum; Payton and Seph were her eldest children with my dad. Marie was worshipped by all of us and should’ve been given mother of the year multiple times, even if it was just for taking on four motherless kids—and fatherless to a large extent—without blinking an eye. I remembered when she came over to England from New York after a whirlwind romance with my father and started to take on the role of mum. She’d sat there one evening when Jackson, Claire and Callum had gone to bed and looked at me while she paired socks. “I have absolutely no clue what the fuck I’m doing, Maxwell,” she’d said. “So if I swear a lot and throw the odd thing I apologise now.” She had sworn a lot, sometimes at us, sometimes at my father, on one occasion at my teacher, but she’d been everything else we’d needed and more.

“Fecking,” I said. “And that’s not a joke. Well done on the Tudor contract. Jackson told me last night. You must’ve impressed them as I know they were thinking of going with Cole Alexander.”

“Thanks,” Seph said, almost preening. “I’ve mentioned to Jackson about expanding the department at some point—if we get another couple of contracts similar to Tudors.”

Seph specialised in employment law and was unfortunately very good at it. He had also inherited Marie’s charm and personality and if on the off-chance he didn’t know the answer to something, he could bullshit his way through it and scatter rainbows at the same time.

“That’s Jackson’s call, not mine. He does the figures,” I said, thankful again that I had a sibling with business acumen and an interest in running the firm. “But if you get one more client half the size of Tudors you’ll need another fee earner for sure.”

Seph pulled my phone from his pocket and stared at it. “It’s been like having a vibrator in my pocket. Who’s texting you?” He stared at the screen. “Victoria. Isn’t that the girl from the university?”

“The one who’s grandfather’s will we’re looking at, yes.” I felt no shame in telling a half-lie. “I’m meeting her in an hour for lunch.”

“Even though it’s Jackson handling the case,” Seph said pointedly. “I wondered why you weren’t rushing back to the office. And you’ve put that suit on that tapers at your waist.”

“Coincidence,” I said, reading the messages and smiling. She was telling me about the lecture she was about to give. I was close enough to the lecture theatre to catch the last half of it, but I wasn’t sure how keen that would make me look, or how I felt about wanting to go.

I looked up to see Seph staring at me curiously. “Tell me about her. Because she’s not your client and you’re trying to bullshit me. You first tried to bullshit me when you told me I’d get chocolate if I put my hand in a bag full of cow shit and I didn’t believe you then, so I’m not going to fall for it now.”

It had nearly worked and probably would’ve done if Payton hadn’t refused first. “She’s a history lecturer, studying for her PhD and she works at the law faculty in the admin,” I said, telling him nothing he couldn’t have found from google.

“Another professor?”

My siblings had a standing joke that I only dated women with PhDs. It was almost true—by coincidence and not résumé filtering. I’d been out with several lawyers since qualifying, as work was naturally where I was going to meet people. There’d never been anyone who captivated me and after a night in bed, all we’d had to talk about was law. Working at the university meant I’d met different women and they had doctorates or master’s degrees. “She will be.”

“Age?”

“What’s this? A fact hunting mission for mum?”

Seph shrugged. “It’s nice to know stuff before Claire for a change.”

“She’s thirty-two.”

“Is she hot?”

I put my head in my hands. “You know, sometimes you’re like this amazing prodigy, securing this huge contract and wowing clients with your knowledge. Other times, you’re just a complete and utter dick. She’s lecturing at the Mason Hall around the corner. Why don’t you come with me and maybe learn something that’s not about Star Wars for a change?”

“She’s hot, isn’t she? Have you got a picture?” he said, making a grab for my phone and succeeding.

“Seph, don’t open the photos…” I started, but it was too late. My phone was already unlocked and my brother was staring at Victoria’s perfect breasts.

He passed me the phone but only after he’d had a good enough look to make his eyes widen. “I’m going to need to pretend I haven’t seen that, aren’t I?”

“Yep,” I said.

My phone rang and I took the call as we walked: a new client whose story was similar to mine. It was a brief conversation, just to confirm I had received copies of medical reports and the log showing the times and details about when his late wife was checked on. She’s been suffering from post-natal depression, just as my mother had been, and had been admitted to a ward after making threats against her life. Unfortunately, it hadn’t been enough to stop her and now the family were making a claim of negligence, that she should’ve been continuously monitored as opposed to twenty minute checks.

“You okay?” Seph said.

He’d heard enough of my side of the phone call to know what it was about. All my siblings would know about the case. All of them would be keeping an eye on me while I was working on it. This was why I’d specialised in medical malpractice and clinical negligence and I knew enough about my own psychology to understand that I was continuously avenging my mother’s death.

“I’ve done this before, Seph, but your concern is noted and will be remembered when I’m Christmas shopping on Christmas Eve,” I said, thankful for him being there even if it wasn’t needed. “Please try not to embarrass me if you speak to Victoria and for fuck’s sake, don’t tell her you’ve seen her—”

“Tits,” Seph interrupted as we went into the building. “I’ll try not to. They were fucking amazing though.”

“Wipe the image from your head else I’ll have to hit you very hard,” I growled, not sure how to deal with the nasty feeling in my stomach that my little brother had seen something that was not his. And by not his, I did mean that it was mine.

“Forgotten. Shit. She is hot. Like librarian hot. As in the librarian you’d fantasise about when you were at school and it was the main reason for going to the library,” Seph started to verbally crap himself at the back of the lecture theatre, only collecting one glare from a student who looked serious enough to be studying law.

Victoria was stood at the front, a large screen behind her, displaying an array of pictures that she would zoom into and discuss. Her hair was tied up in a huge messy bun, loose bits around her face. The oversized glasses were perched on her nose and she wore wide legged trousers that gathered tightly at the ankles, a white shirt with a low neckline that was tucked into the waistline and a pair of ridiculously high heeled black shoes.

“You do not fantasise about her,” I said quietly to Seph. “You do not think about her in any way, shape or form unless it’s like you would one of your sisters. Do you understand?”

“Does she have a sister?”

I sighed loudly, hoping he was just after a reaction from me, but I realised he was serious. Instead of continuing to be annoyed by the walking hormone, I focused on what she was lecturing and found myself interested. It was an introductory lecture to first year undergrads who were in their first week at university. Most of them would have hangovers and had more than likely just scrambled out of bed in time to get there, but all were captivated as she discussed the legend of King Arthur and Camelot and what was historically factual.

The lecture concluded, a smattering of applause resonating. Then students started to vacate, passing me and Seph, a couple of girls giving us appraising glances. I started to make my way down the stairs to the dais where Victoria was lingering, explaining something to a student who was way too close to her for my liking.

“You’ve visited Tintagel? So you’d have seen the importance it has had on the tourist industry there?” she said, her face lighting up with enthusiasm.

I stayed a few feet away, aware that I was perfectly capable of knocking this young man’s head off his shoulders should he place a finger anywhere on her.

“Yes, I spent a few holidays there when I was a teenager. I think it’s what really started my interest in history. It certainly wasn’t the teaching at my school—that was really dull compared to your lecture,” the kid continued to ramble.

I elbowed Seph who was standing with his arms folded over his chest, looking a cross between a bodyguard and an overdressed student. “Were you that dumb when you came here?” I said, quietly enough so that the kid wouldn’t hear.

“Probably,” Seph said. “I was better at it though.”

“Better at what?”

“Having game.”

I groaned. It was loud enough to attract Victoria’s attention. She looked over and smiled. “Hey,” she said. “I thought I was meeting you at Romano’s?”

The kid looked over at us, his expression saddening. Surely he didn’t think he had a chance?

“I decided to try to get some extra education for my brother.” I elbowed Seph again a little harder. This time he played along and winced visibly.

Victoria turned back to the kid and bestowed a smile upon him. “I have a lunch date. Have a good Freshers’ week and I’ll see you in lectures next week.”

“Will I be in your seminar?” he asked, a little too quickly.

“I’m not sure. Lists go up tomorrow.” She gave him another smile, picked up a pile of papers and headed towards us.

“You can go now,” I said to Seph. “You’re no longer required.”

Victoria laughed, her eyes softening as she looked at Seph. “That’s not fair, Max. You’ve just made him sit through a history lecture. The least you can do is buy him a drink.”

Seph’s chest puffed out and he gave her his most charming smile. “I’m Joseph, Maxwell’s younger brother.” He held out a hand and I hoped to fuck he wasn’t going to take her hand and kiss it.

Instead, Victoria stepped in closer and gave Seph a quick hug. I messed with my beard, watching where his hands went.

“It’s good to meet the ex-president of the Assassins’ Guild,” she said, beaming at him. “Thank you for sorting the room out for them. There was a mix up with where your brother was taking his Thursday evening seminar.”

“There are always mix ups where my brother’s concerned,” Seph said. “If you hang around him enough you’ll realise that.”

Victoria lifted her brows.

I shrugged. “Possibly. But we’re not hanging round Seph today. I thought you had a meeting at one?”

“Why do you know my diary better than I do,” Seph said, checking his phone, probably looking at the calendar and seeing that I was right.

“Because I bother to make an effort to know what other partners in my law firm are doing. I’ll see you later,” I said as he began to shift towards the exit. I knew my brother too well; he’d have checked the timing to see if he could pick up a sandwich from Gertie’s and get back to the office in time. The answer to that was yes, he could, if he left now.

“Good to meet you, Victoria, but I do need to go. Hopefully see you soon. Join us for drinks on Friday.” Seph shot her a grin and started to hotfoot it out of the lecture hall.

I stayed standing next to her, knowing that my diary was clear for another couple of hours, although I had a shit ton of work to get through that would now take me late into the evening.

For a moment, I wondered what the fuck I was doing, taking this edible woman to lunch. I didn't do this. I didn't set myself up to be distracted all day when I had a big case that I needed to be consumed by. I loved my job; I’d long ago made a decision to focus on law and my practice, along with the lecturing rather than pursuing a relationship like what Jackson now had. I didn’t take three-hour breaks during the course of a working day. It was only because my friend Amelie owned the coffee shop near the offices that I actually managed to remember to feed and water myself, as she sent occasional texts reminding me.

“I’ve only got half an hour or so myself,” I said, telling myself I wasn’t technically lying.

“Let’s grab some soup or a sandwich then. There’s a really cute café round the corner where I sometimes grab lunch,” she said without reprimand in her expression. “I’ve got some points to finalise with my tutor for my dissertation by the end of the day so I could do with getting back early. Plus, there’s the small matter of sorting out the lists for the seminars as they need to go up tomorrow.”

I followed her outside, feeling like a dick. I didn’t want to spend just ninety minutes with her: I wanted the whole of the afternoon, then the evening and the night too. “How did your meeting with your tutor go?”

She nodded. “Good. I thought it would as I’d prepared pretty well for it. My old tutor is at Johns Hopkins now, so I could run some things by him beforehand. I’m just hoping I can get it all done relatively quickly.”

The café was less than two minutes away, tucked down a side street and looked nothing from the front. “This is it?”

“Yes. The food’s great, especially for something quick.” I followed her inside and we sat at a table towards the back and again I felt like an utter bastard. This was meant to be a date, partly to make up for what happened in my office where I still felt like I’d taken advantage of her and partly to get to know her.

“Look,” I said. “I want to do this properly. When I’m not thinking about work and getting back to the office and what I should be doing.”

“I understand.”

“I don’t take much time out of work and this feels completely out of my comfort zone…”

“I understand. I’ve hardly spoken to anyone unless it’s been to do with work, my studies or my friend Jacob in the last twelve months.”

“What happened in my office—”

“Was a mistake.”

I closed my mouth and rubbed my shirt, wondering if something from my jacket had just stabbed me. “A mistake?”

“A mistake. We kind of work together. We’re both really busy and I’m probably moving to the States, or I’m hoping to, once I’ve finished my PhD, so seeing someone, however casually, is probably a bad idea,” she said. “And that doesn’t mean texting you and seeing you in your office hasn’t been the highlight of my year, because it really has, but I need to focus and you’re a distraction.”

“Can I take your order?” A girl who looked just about old enough to be allowed out on her own came to our table.

“The soup of the day and a pastrami sandwich, plus a macchiato. Thanks, Elise,” Victoria said, looking and sounding a hell of a lot calmer than I had.

“The same,” I said. I hadn’t even looked at the menu.

“Sure. Be five minutes.” Elise disappeared. I looked at Victoria, trying to read her, but her soft brown eyes gave nothing away.

“I don’t think I’ve been called a distraction before,” I half mumbled. “In my office, I wasn’t…”

“Maxwell.” She reached for my hand and linked her fingers with mine. “I took a selfie of your come all over my tits and texted it to you. I don’t think I have any problem with anything that happened, except not having had an orgasm since.” There was a coy smile.

I managed to nod, swallowing whatever weird shit I was feeling and talked to her about the fucking weather.