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Chapter Thirty-Three
Charlie’s finger hovered over the doorbell. She’d thought twice about making the journey, but decided she needed to distract her mind, and her body, from missing Elda.
Jude opened the door and held out her arms. She flashed a smile just as wide. “Hello, darling. Get inside. I’ve missed you.”
Charlie shrugged off the nagging feeling that this was a bad idea. She took the glass of wine that Jude offered and sat at the edge of the curved velvet sofa. Jude’s living room was decadent and ridiculous, like the basement of a Berlin cabaret. A place where anything could happen in the middle of the night.
There was no denying Jude was attractive. Here, in her own space, with her hair down and the straps of her bra just visible under a fitted shirt, she was hot.
“I was surprised when you called. You’ve been keeping your head down in chambers. I thought you’d shacked up with that woman from Paris, never to be seen again.”
“Not quite. It didn’t go entirely to plan.” Charlie laughed.
“No?” Jude winked. “Didn’t she fall for your charms? Not like you.”
“She did. Briefly. I fell harder for hers if you really want to know.”
“I’m not surprised. You were smitten the last time I saw you. What was her name?”
Charlie took a breath. “Elda.”
Jude smiled.
“Don’t pity me, Jude.” Charlie poked her in the ribs playfully.
“Anyway, I’ve had a run of cases and I needed to have some fun. I thought of you.” Charlie skipped the part where she couldn’t get out of bed for three days and missed a court appearance.
“That’s nice to hear.” Jude’s furrowed brow was just perceptible beneath her chunky fringe. “Drink up, and we’ll hit Lock’s for a cocktail or two.”
Charlie leaned back and flicked her legs up onto the sofa. The depth of the sofa was absurd, even for her tall frame. She shuffled closer and met Jude’s gaze. “Let’s hang around here for a while, like old times.”
“Charlie.” Jude laughed and turned away. “It’s been ages since we had old times together, I wouldn’t know where to start.”
“I would.” Charlie caught hold of Jude’s chin. She traced her thumb across her lips and pushed away the thought of Elda. She stroked the back of Jude’s neck and moved in, tasting her earlobe. The sharpness on her tongue made her sit back. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure I can do this.” This was wrong.
“Of course you can’t,” Jude whispered, taking Charlie’s hand and rubbing the back of it. “You know this isn’t what you want.”
“I’m such an idiot. I’m so sorry, Jude, I never wanted to use you.” Tears fell down her cheeks, and she looked away, ashamed of herself.
“Sweetheart, you are dear to me. So when I tell you this, know it’s coming from a place of love and respect.” Jude’s hands steadied Charlie’s shoulders and she withdrew, creating space between them. “There’s nothing I’d like more than to rip your clothes off here, take you to bed, and touch every inch of you. Of course I would—look at you. But you’re hurting. You’re deeply in love with Elda what’s-her-face. We both know this. Chances are, she’s still in love with you too, and you’ll be back together before you know it. So, let’s drink up, and you can tell me all about it.”
Charlie slumped, forcing a breath in and out, spinning with confusion. She’d always been in control of her interactions with Jude. They were playmates, and they both liked it. Now she found herself being read like a book. “Am I that obvious? I shouldn’t have come.” She squirmed but was grateful to Jude for calling her out.
“Nonsense. Here.” She put the glass back in Charlie’s hand. “Let’s crack this together. Tell me the facts of the case.”
Charlie filled in the blanks, and Jude supplied booze and tissues all night. In the end, she proved herself as wonderful a friend as she was a shit-hot lawyer. Charlie stayed the night on the round sofa and drifted in and out of sleep, thinking about where in the world Elda was. Charlie had hit rock bottom, and the desperation clung to her like a bad smell. But that meant whatever happened next had to be an improvement.
***
Charlie examined her pores in the bathroom mirror. Pink veins had burst in her eyes and her bones were weary. She went into a toilet cubicle to use as her makeshift dressing room. She unzipped a long, dress bag revealing the delicate black dress that had made an appearance at every formal dinner for the last ten years.
She thumbed the silk then took out a strapless bra. It was awkward and tight in the cubicle, and everything was grabbing at her skin. She pulled the flimsy, spaghetti straps over her shoulders and threw everything else in the bag before exiting the toilet stall.
She paused at the mirror for a quick check under the blue hue and applied a layer of red lipstick, while praying that the venue lighting would be much more forgiving. Her clown face looked like a stranger’s: interesting but odd. She bared her teeth to check for crisps and tried to practice a smile.This is going to be a nightmare.
Playing nice at chambers’ dinners was not Charlie’s favourite thing. It took all her energy to act the extrovert for the evening. A cab was waiting outside the building, and Charlie climbed in, scooping her dress behind her. She fiddled with her neckline. It was a bit low, even for her small breasts.
As the car pulled up to the city hall, she regretted accepting the invitation and almost bolted. Without Elda, work was the only thing keeping her going, and she had to be seen at this event if she was ever going to make it anywhere near KC.
