Chapter 14
After the attempted attack, the week goes by in a blur. I’m still forever grateful to Ben. God only knows what could have happened if he hadn’t been there to put James in his place.
On Tuesday afternoon, Ben and I visit Bethany in the Focus Facility.
Her mood has significantly improved since our last visit, so much so that she’s able to give us the names of her general practitioner, online therapist, and the mental health specialist she’s been referred to.
I reach out to these people and hope for a quick response.
I work from Brendan’s house for the rest of the week. Honestly, I’m too afraid to go into the office. I doubt James would try anything in the workplace, but I elect to play it safe. I fake having a bad cold and doctor a sick certificate to give to HR. I don’t regret my decision.
At the weekend, the weather is tolerable.
Brendan and I take Bailey on a forest walk, an activity that excites her greatly.
She sniffs every tree she can find, jumps through every pile of leaves she comes across, and splashes through a pond.
It’s nice to spend weekends with Brendan.
I will always cherish our time together.
Soul-crushingly, I still haven’t heard from Tom.
There’s mandatory, in-person training at O’Leary and Adams’s Dublin office on Monday. Sitting at our desks, Melissa and I complain.
“What do you think this one is for?” I ask.
I haven’t opened my laptop yet, and I don’t intend to. The training starts at 9:00 a.m. and is expected to last for the duration of the day. As such, it feels unnecessary to start actual work.
“Work and well-being? You know, those ones where they tell us about the importance of our mental health and the work-life balance but then threaten to sack us if we take a sick day?”
I suck my teeth. “No,” I say, swinging in my chair. “We had that last year. Maybe it’s that Dignity and Respect at Work one? I heard all the solicitors over in Greene and Sons had to do that recently.”
I only know this because Ben told me. He worked with one of these solicitors on his drugs case. He lost the case in the end, likely because the Gardaí had video footage of his client selling heroin on the street.
Melissa rolls her eyes heavenward. “Probably that one then.” She runs her fingers through her hair. “What a waste of time though. They won’t have much respect for us when we fail to meet our deadlines because we’re too busy at this training.”
I egg her on. “Preach, girl.”
To kill more time until 9:00, Melissa asks about my date with Conor. I tell her we decided to remain friends and nothing else. I don’t want Melissa to lose her job for deservedly punching James Adams in the face.
Out of nowhere, a familiar, deep voice calls my name.
I swivel around, and my eyes widen with surprise when they land on Ben. “What are you doing here? We don’t have anything planned with the appeal, do we?”
A momentary fear pulses through me. I’d feel awful if I’d scheduled something relating to Bethany’s appeal and then wasted Ben’s time.
“No, no.” Ben leans against the desk behind me, charismatic as ever. Today, his suit is black, matching his dark curls. “Nothing like that.”
“Then, why are you here?”
Melissa turns around in her chair. With one leg crossed over the other, she leans forwards, stretching her hand out to Ben. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced,” she begins. “I’m Melissa, Nick’s most-favoured and smartest colleague.”
Ben shakes her hand. “It’s a pleasure. I’m Ben Kehoe, the barrister on the Murray appeal.”
Melissa’s gaze lingers on Ben for a moment too long. She’s playing with her necklace and batting her long lashes. It feels like déjà vu, like I’m back in the little café where the young waitress fawned over Ben. And just like that time, jealousy fizzes uncomfortably within me.
To break the tension, I butt in. “Why are you here, then?”
He puts his beautiful hand back into his pocket. “I’m here for the training, actually.”
“But—”
Melissa interjects. “That’s perfect. You can sit with Nick and me.”
Ben eyes me, like he’s waiting for approval. As he does so, he flashes the alluring smirk that I’ve seen on many occasions. Somehow, it still manages to send butterflies to my tummy.
I shrug. “Yes. You can sit with us.”
Ben’s eyes brighten, and his smirk transforms into a polished grin.
Employees around us start to rise from their desks. They head in the direction of the main conference room – the location for today’s training. The office is quickly emptying, but Melissa and I are still ogling Ben.
“Should we follow them?” Ben suggests.
Melissa blinks quickly, like she’s just woken up. “Oh, yes. We should. Good call, Ben.”
Before we leave, I take one last look at the Liffey. Please God. Don’t let James Adams be at this training.
I’m correct about the training. Written on the first slide of the PowerPoint is ‘Dignity and Respect in the Workplace’.
Chairs are lined across the conference room like a college lecture hall; on each chair is a branded pen and refill pad with the name of the training provider’s company printed on them.
Melissa, Ben, and I sit down three rows from the back, far enough away that we won’t be called upon to answer questions, but still close enough that we can see the slides.
As we’re waiting for the training to commence, I look around the room.
By now, every chair is occupied, and the conference room is at maximum capacity.
By the Grace of God, James Adams is nowhere to be seen; my prayers must have been heard.
The first two hours of the training are focused on legislation and definitions of bullying and harassment.
I zone out for most of it and don’t take any notes.
Truthfully, I’m too distracted by the smell of Ben’s aftershave to follow along.
He’s sitting right beside me. The smell is powerful.
Just as powerful as that night, and just as powerful as the time he leaned in to tell me he had come back for me.
At 11:00 a.m., we’re permitted to take a thirty-minute tea break. As we make our way downstairs to the canteen, Ben walks beside me; Melissa is in front of us, turning around every so often to join the conversation. We mostly complain about the training thus far.
In the canteen, I immediately gravitate to the pastries and the Keurig of tea. Ben follows me. Melissa veers off in the opposite direction, eager to fill a plate with scrambled eggs.
With a plate full of pastries and a cup full of tea, I make my way to the queue for the till. Ben is still with me, even though his hands are empty.
Before I can ask if he wants anything, he whispers into my ear, “I like that you’re wearing that maroon suit again. It suits you.”
I cannot contain my embarrassment. I snicker louder than I should, loudly demean the fabric by calling the suit ‘this old thing?’, and cannot stop my expression from turning as red as a strawberry.
My fellow employees that are waiting in the queue experience second-hand embarrassment as a result of their close proximity to me.
At lunchtime, Ben and I leave the building.
Melissa doesn’t join us; she has affidavit evidence to file for one of her cases.
Ben takes me up on last week’s offer; I buy him lunch.
I have one stipulation, however: I get to decide where we go.
We’re strolling into the city centre, and I know exactly what I want for lunch.
“How would you feel about waffles and a milkshake for lunch?” I examine his physique. It’s perfect. “Unless you’re on a diet or anything.”
Ben chuckles. “I’m not on a diet, Nick. And I’m not afraid to treat myself every now and then.”
His words are music to my ears.
“Come on,” I urge, excited. “I know the perfect place.”
This early in the day, the line outside the little milkshake shop is non-existent. They’ve only been open for forty minutes, after all. I eagerly step inside, my limbs shaky with excitement.
The cashier beams as I enter. “Nick, how are you?” The fact that she knows my name is proof enough of my love for sweet things. “And you’ve brought a friend with you.”
“Alicja, this is Ben.”
“Is he a lawyer too?” she asks, eyes bulging.
“I’m a barrister,” Ben says. “So, yes, pretty much.”
“Wow.” Alicja awes.
After Ben and I have ordered and found a non-rickety table to occupy, we chat.
“She’s lovely,” Ben says.
I peep over Ben’s shoulder, watching as Alicja mixes the batter for our waffles. “She is. She’s had a rough go of it though. Her now ex-husband tried to take her children back to Romania a few years back.”
“Jesus. Did he?”
“I put her in contact with a family law practitioner I knew from Blackhall to help her bring the case to court. Three years later she’s divorced and still has her kids here in Ireland.”
“That was nice of you to help,” Ben says. He studies me. Again, it feels like his inquisitive eyes are peering into my soul. What they’re looking for, I do not know.
“It was the least I could do.”
Alicja brings our lunch to the table. It does not disappoint. While my crispy waffles are smothered in chocolate, Ben’s are decorated with strawberries. And our glasses are overflowing with creamy milkshake. It’s the best lunch I could ever imagine.
I tell Ben about my plan for Bethany’s case as we eat. I speak quickly, eager to explain everything in as little time as possible.
Ben puts his hands out, pausing me. “Take a breath. We don’t have to figure it all out right now, do we?”
I redden. “No, but a little bit of planning ahead won’t do any harm.”
“There’s your favourite word,” Ben jokingly points out.
I roll my eyes. “Having a plan won’t kill you, Ben.”
“But what if it does? I’ve done just fine without one so far, and I’m still alive. What if making one takes so much brainpower that I collapse?” Ben raises a brow.
Pity the plan won’t get you any marks, I remember. I shrug. “Only one way to find out.”