Page 35 of From London, With Love

When my father started the firm all those years ago, he never anticipated the rapid growth it would experience. What started as a small family law firm quickly transformed into one of the largest and most prestigious firms in the United Kingdom. And with that growth came media for the entire family.

Since the day I started university, my name has been well-known in the corporate and legal worlds. Anyone with the slightest knowledge of this world, at least in the UK, knows who my father is and usually who I am as well.

Naturally, as a young man in his late teens and early 20s, I thought it was the absolute best thing ever. I mean, who doesn’t want their name on magazine covers? Or at least I thought I did until I learnt about the darker side of the press.?

One night at the end of our first year, Dex and I had been at a party at a friend’s estate not far from campus. We’d finished up exams, and the party was an excuse to let loose. I’d been casually seeing—sleeping with—a classmate for a few weeks, and she’d mentioned she may be at the party too. She was perfectly lovely, but something about her kept me a little on edge. Regardless, I’d kept seeing her on and off because I was nineteen and horny.

Long story short, she’d seen me talking to others and became overly territorial. To the point where she verbally attacked me in front of half the party, calling me a man whore, yelling about how I’d embarrassed her, and even threatening me with the press—a threat I had wrongly assumed was empty.

Flash forward an hour or two, and I’m in a more than compromising position with one of the girls I’d been talking to earlier. Without warning, the door slams open and in bursts, a hoard of press representatives, cameras and microphones as far as the eye can see.?

My face, and more of me than I’d like to admit, covered the British tabloids for a solid week. Thankfully my father was able to quell it quite quickly, but I vowed then and there to keep my head down as best I could for the foreseeable future.?

And that was what I did, until four years ago, when Teddy received that fateful phone call.?

The memory of that day is as fresh as if it were last week. Picture this: you’re the eldest son of a well-known family, loved by the British tabloids, and have just returned from a tour of Afghanistan. You receive one call from an unknown number, and your life alters beyond any of your wildest dreams.

Being the “fix it” middle child I am, I did the only thing I could think of to ensure the tabloids never found out. They may love my family, but they love drama and gossip even more. They’d throw us under the bus quicker than we could say “stop”.

The next several weeks were spent finding a new woman to be seen with each weekend. What better way todistract the tabloids from sniffing around than to give them something to gossip about?

I’d made sure to have Emmy speak to her regulars at the bar about me, and in particular, what I’d be up to that weekend, ensuring the local photographers who frequented the bar overheard.

Every media article about me from then on had been in order to protect my brother and our family. Every picture with yet another gorgeous woman on my arm was staged.

Front pages were splashed with titles like “London’s Law Prodigy has a Hot Study Date” and “Another One, Carter?” Each article made my parents more and more uncomfortable with the situation I’d brought on myself, but they knew why I was doing it.

It didn’t matter to the media if I hadn’t taken these women home; instead, opting to help my brother with his newly acquainted baby daughter, they decided the narrative.

At the end of the day, I didn’t care what the general public thought of me, as long as it kept the attention off Teddy. My family, the firm—under strict NDAs—and those closest to me knew the truth, and that was enough.

I’ve spent the last four years keeping up the ruse in the public eye. Do I regret it? Occasionally, but only because of the ramifications on my personal life. If I had my time over though, I wouldn’t change a thing.

Since then, the tabloids have known me as the player of the British Law World, which means women know me the same way. I’ve been on many dates over the years, all of which were photographed, of course, but the women I dated saw me as nothing more than a good-looking man in an expensive suit.

Not that I particularly minded; I spent a lot of that time seeing myself the same way and still do to an extent. But now,having taken over the firm, I wonder if I can make them see me as more.I wonder if Lara could see me as more.

The thought stops me in my tracks in a way that’s almost comedic as I make my way through reception. It continues to rattle me how deeply this woman has invaded my thoughts and clouded my brain.

I’m trying my best not to burn myself on the baking tray when the music cuts out, and my sister’s incoming call is announced.?

“What took you so long?” Emmy sounds miles away from the phone as I answer. Placing her on speaker, I successfully remove the tray from the oven, sans third-degree burns. My mother may have had me baking from a young age, but I never quite mastered the art of safely removing things from the oven.

“Hello to you too, little one.” I smile to myself at the smug tone of my voice. My sisterdespisesit when I refer to her as ‘little one’; something I’ve done since we were kids.

“Carter John Lawrence.” It’s never a good thing when she uses my full name. “Believe it or not, I’m actually calling for a serious reason.”

“You’ve certainly piqued my interest, Emilia James.” I listen a little more intently whilst continuing to tidy up my disaster zone of a kitchen after baking. A muffled “god, you’re insufferable” comes through the phone, and I hold back the smile pulling at my lips.?

Memories surface of all the times Lara has called me the same thing. Being called insufferable isn’t exactly on my list of goals, but I can’t deny the ridiculous flutter in my stomach every time she says it; proud of myself for eliciting a strong reaction from her.

“Are you even listening to me?” Emmy’s voice cuts through my thoughts.

“Honestly? No. I’m sorry, I was somewhere else entirely. Could you please repeat that?”

Emmy lets out a sigh before continuing. “Oh, it wasn’t anything vital, just how I may have found you the perfect assistant.”?

Stars appear in my vision from the speed at which I whip my head around. My brows draw together as I glance at my phone.

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