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“I am a predictable perfectionist,” Olivia said. “And I acknowledge it may be irritating for some who are...." She looked as if she had someone particular in mind. “...perhaps less organised. But, yes, I assure you I'm most straightforward.” But not straight, Kate laughed to herself.
Your brain is anything but slow. Yes, you get distracted. But you have a thousand thoughts whizzing around in there, and only one mouth to tell them. You have traffic jams. The last thing you are is stupid, my big-brained lover. Sometimes you take a while to get in gear, but then there’s no stopping you.”
“And more specifically, say, with actors?” Olivia looked at her, as if Kate shouldn’t press. “My experience has mixed results.” “Should...” Kate began, failing to resist this nugget of information, “should I take that as a compliment, Ms Sachdeva?” “If my opinion means something to you, then yes, Ms Woodhouse.”
Soft fingers stroked inside the hem, and Kate closed her eyes to the sensation between her shoulders. Such a small contact, but it touched her whole body. Loop after loop, fingers circled down her back, a light touch every time, before the rouleau loops gave over pearl buttons, the suggestive movement trailing lower.
And in her trailer...Olivia paused. She remembered with overwhelming clarity the softness of Kate’s neck on her fingertips, and the enticing glimpse beneath the material. She’d seen Kate undress in films, but this was real and vivid on all her senses. The sliver of naked back, the undulation of her spine, the patterns of her pale skin, tiny downy hair which Olivia craved to touch, even though they’d be too fine and beyond perceptible. She wanted to lean down and breathe on them, and she closed her eyes, because the memory of Kate’s scent came to her instantly.
Then she felt it. Perhaps something caught her eye that her mind failed to grasp. A movement. A sound. But awareness stole over her shoulders and tickled up her neck. She twitched her gaze over the crowd. Nothing. But she knew what, who, she felt. She pushed the realisation down without saying her name, wanting to deny the increasing presence within her subconscious.
She risked the question again. “Do you mind this...contact?” Another thrill from Olivia’s body. Kate couldn’t miss it. “Quite the contrary,” came the same formal phrasing from Olivia, but none of the calm delivery. The words trembled. “I do find physical contact intense.” A pause. “But sometimes deeply pleasurable.”
Because the actor was charming, and challenged her, then revealed vulnerabilities which had Olivia relenting like a sap, wanting to sweep her off her feet when they danced, and taking her on romantic punting trips at dusk. Oh my god, how had she let this happen? This was a disaster.
suspension of disbelief?”
“I’m emotionally invested with you.” She was in way over her head. “And I can’t tell if I’m advising you appropriately anymore. With you, I don’t even know what detached and impartial is anymore. When you’re in the room, my heart beats too fast and my mind spins. It doesn’t matter that we’re not involved, because I’m overwhelmingly attracted to you, in so many ways, and I can't advise you with a level head.”
“It doesn’t matter, because I,” Olivia said, emphatically, “don’t trust me.” She glanced at Kate, not daring to linger. “You cannot have a lawyer who feels like this about you. Because you’re just sitting there, doing nothing, and I can barely think. I know where you are in a room. Always. I might take my eyes off you, but my mind is still where you are.” She breathed in. “I am inextricably drawn to you.”

