I stood on Welling station shivering in the cold, and trying to calm the butterflies fluttering around in my stomach. Today was the day of judgement at work. The day I would find out if my training contract would turn into a fully fledged job at Pearson and Hardwick, one of the big four law firms in London. If today went well, I would become a qualified, and gainfully employed, corporate lawyer. If today went badly, then six years of studying would be down the drain.

It had been a real slog to get this far. I came from a working class family, who didn't believe in social mobility, and thought I was wasting my time. I had worked hard at Bexley Grammar to get top grades and secure a place at Cambridge to study law and business. I had kept my head down through university and had put in enough effort to gain a first. A year long legal practitioner course led to my traineeship, and another two years of intense concentration at Pearson and Hardwick had followed, as I threw myself into the opportunity they had given me.

I looked around the grey, featureless platform. At six thirty in the morning, only the early bird commuters were present. Pale, pasty looking men in badly fitting suits looked resigned to another miserable day in mundane jobs. There was not one exciting or interesting looking person there. Suburbia doesn't really breed the people who make you sit up and take notice, I thought to myself. All the more reason to escape as quickly as possible.

I'd enjoyed Cambridge as it had been a huge relief to be around intelligent, informed people who had been passionate about academia. My mum had never understood a thirst for knowledge, and had tried to get me to lower my aspirations and take a 'nice shop job' at sixteen. The thought of returning home tonight unemployed and a failure, confirming all her warnings about 'getting ideas above my station', made the butterflies ten times worse.

I arrived at the offices at quarter past seven, pausing in the stunning wood panelled lobby of the ancient law firm, and wondered if it would be the last time I would walk through on my way to work. I ducked into the cloakroom to change into my heels and shed my coat.

"Good morning Elle," said Roger, the security man who was based in the lobby, as I waited for the lift up to my floor.

"Morning Roger, today's the day."

"I wish you the best of luck. I'm sure you'll be fine, the time you get here everyday must have shown them how conscientious you are."

"Thanks. Hope so." I smoothed the front of my neat pencil skirt, and gripped my handbag a little tighter.

Once I had reached my floor, I made my way straight to my desk to switch on my computer, check my emails, and just wait. All the cases I had been assigned to work on had been completed, and as my traineeship had been near its end, they hadn't given me any new ones. For the last week or so, I had just been assisting the other trainees with their cases, doing their drudge work, and helping out in the filing room. I had felt that the lack of new cases being put my way was a bad omen, and if they were keeping me, they wouldn't have worried about giving me fresh work.

Checking my emails, I saw one from Mr Lambert, my line manager. I opened it.

From: Adam Lambert

To: Elle Reynolds

Subject: Interview

28th March 2013

Dear Ms Reynolds,

Your interview today will be held at 11am in room 7 on the 4th floor. In attendance will be Ms Pearson, Mr Jones, and myself.

Kind Regards

Adam Lambert

I stared at the email for a minute or two. It wasn't giving anything away. I decided I need a cup of tea. In the small kitchenette area, I realised that my hands were shaking as I filled the kettle. I needed to get a grip. The last thing I wanted to do was show nerves or weakness when the rest of my workmates arrived. Cool, calm and collected was the image I wanted to project at work, not needy, insecure or scared, no matter how I felt inside.

As the other trainees filed in, I could see how rattled they were. It was interview time for all of us who began in 2011, and usually only a quarter of the intake would be offered permanent jobs. Scanning the faces, I tried to figure out who had screwed up, who had excelled, and who would be a tough call.

"Why are you looking so pensive?" Lucy demanded, standing in front of my desk, "we all know you'll be ok, miss perfect," she teased.

"I don't know about that, they could easily decide I'm not posh enough to fit in," I said, fully aware of my lack of private schooling and accompanying posh accent.

"Don't be daft, the fact that you have a perfect record and are a bloody genius will easily outweigh the problem of a glottal stop." She smiled to let me know she was teasing.

"Wha times yuh mee-ing?" I said, in full south London accent, taking the piss.

"11.30. You?"

"11. Good luck."

"You too. If its good news, I'll treat us both to lunch in Bennies." Lucy came from a wealthy background and didn't have to watch the pennies as I did. She sauntered off, seemingly unconcerned about her fate being decided upstairs.

At ten to eleven, I rinsed my hands in cold water to avoid a sweaty handshake, and made my way up to the floor above. The secretary directed me to take a seat just outside the meeting room to await my turn. The door swung open, and a fellow trainee, John Peterson, came out looking as white as a sheet. I caught his eye, and he gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head. He had been one of the 'sure things' I had judged earlier that morning. My stomach sank into my boots.

"Miss Reynolds, you may go in now," said the secretary. I plastered on my best fake smile and entered the room. The three interviewers sat behind a long table, with a single chair placed in front of them. Mr Lambert smiled at me, and asked me to take a seat. I shook their hands, and sat down.

"Good morning Miss Reynolds, I'm sure you must be nervous, so I won't waste time on pleasantries," began Ms Pearson. My heart sank. "You have the highest work output rate of your year group, the best attendance and punctuality rate, and the best report from your superiors." My heart hammered, and I tried to stop myself blushing at her compliment. Ms Pearson was a managing partner, so remaining in control in front of her was extremely important.

"So I'm delighted to be able to offer you a permanent position at Pearson and Hardwick. Now your report states that you would like to specialise in corporate law, is that correct?"

I pulled myself together quickly enough to answer her, "yes, that's correct."

"Good. We have an opening in our corporate department at Canary Wharf. You can begin there on Monday. For the rest of this week you will be on paid leave, as Mr Lambert has indicated that you have taken no holiday at all this year. The salary will be eighty thousand per year, plus the grade 3 benefit package. Do you have any questions?" Ms Pearson looked at me intently.

"No questions, and thank you Ms Pearson, I won't let you down," I said, barely able to take it all in.

"I'm sure you won't. Now, please head over to HR, where they have your new contract ready for you to sign, and sort out your package, then I suggest you have some rest until Monday."

I smiled widely at the panel, "thank you for this opportunity," I said before heading out.

Over at HR I signed my new contract, collected the details of my new workplace, and perused the list of benefits I could choose as part of my package. As I didn't have a car to be subsidised, I chose gym membership, private health care and an enhanced pension. The HR lady assured me that the gym at the Canary Wharf building was superb, and useful for showering and changing facilities if I needed them. On my way back to my floor, I bumped into Lucy, who was sporting a wide grin

"Great news Elle, I got family law, just as I wanted. What about you?"

"Good news for me too, I got corporate, so Canary Wharf here I come," I replied with an equally big smile.

"Wow! They are the most prestigious offices in the firm, you must have done really well. I'll come and visit you there. Now, shall we meet by your old cubicle as I have to see HR before we go to lunch?"

"Great, see you in a bit."

I went back to my cubicle with my shoulders back, and a lightness I had never felt before. Success felt fantastic, and for the first time ever I could escape my background.

Bennies was a bistro type bar tucked away down one of the tiny passages that characterised the city. Lucy ordered a bottle of Moët while we waited for our overpriced sandwiches. We clinked glasses and gossiped about who got kicked out and who was kept on. It turned out that out of a hundred who began the training contract with us, only fifteen had been offered full contracts.

"So, what's your next plan? Are you moving nearer work?" Lucy asked.

"Sure am, I have the rest of the week off, so it's a good opportunity to look for a flat share or a studio. Mum's boyfriend wants to move in, and it's too small a flat to have all three of us there, so it's time to move out." I hugged myself with glee. Escape from the moaning about my getting up early, use of hot water and aversion to junk food.

Lucy broke my reverie, "my brothers friend is looking for a flatmate, he lives near Canada square. Would you like me to call him?"

"Oh yes please, that would be great." She pulled her phone out of her bag and prodded the screen.

"Hi James, it's Lucy Elliott. Have you still got that room available? Only one of my friends is looking for a flat near Canary Wharf." She listened to the other person, injecting a 'mmm' every now and then. "Yes it's a she, and she is a nice, hardworking, quiet, corporate lawyer. Yes I work with her.....yes.....no......ok I'll send her along this afternoon. Text me the address yeah." Lucy ended the call.

"Rooms still available then?" I asked.

"Yep. He's a bit fussy about who he shares with. James is a nice guy, and likes a quiet life. He works from home, so needs a flat mate who goes out to work, and isn't too noisy." Lucy's phone chirped as a text arrived with the address, which she forwarded to me.

A couple of other trainees from our year arrived to celebrate with us, nicking our champagne, much to my relief. I didn't want to view a flat half cut.

After lunch, I headed over to the docklands, taking the DLR. I had to double check the address, as the building looked way too swanky to be a flat share type of place. Pressing the buzzer, a voice came through, "who is it?"

"Elle Reynolds, Lucy sent me."

"I'll buzz you in. Take the lift to the fourteenth floor. My door is right in front of you." The buzzer sounded, and I pushed my way into a marble and glass lobby. I took in the silence, the deep carpet, and sense of restrained opulence. The lift was large, mirrored and silently sped straight up to floor fourteen, which I noticed, was the highest floor.

The door in front of the lift was open, and what could only be described as a bear was standing in the doorway. It was hard to gauge his age with all the facial hair, but I took a guess at early thirties. He was tall and broad, dressed in jeans and an old tshirt which showed off muscular, hairy arms. Through all the long, curly hair and copious beard, a pair of twinkly blue eyes reflected a smile. "You must be James? I'm Elle," I said, extending my hand out to him. He shook it warmly and invited me in.

"Did you find it alright?" he enquired, "and would you like a coffee?"

"Yes it was easy to get here, and yes I'd love a coffee if you're having one." He showed me through to what could only be described as a state of the art kitchen. James pulled two cups out of a cupboard and pulled two pods out of a drawer.

"What sort of coffee? I can do americano, espresso, latte or cappuccino."

"A latte would be lovely," I said, awed that there was a choice. If my mum remembered to buy fresh milk it was an event, and yet this hairy, bearded, bear-person had fresh coffee and fresh milk. I was impressed.

I found out that James was an app developer, and had built a few hit apps, which had enabled him to buy the apartment. He was working on a new app, and worked from home, so needed some peace during the day. I told him all about my promotion, and we toasted my success with fresh coffee, which made me giggle. He explained that Canada Square was quite literally round the corner, and my walk to work would be around five minutes.

"So why do you want a flat mate?" I asked.

He squirmed slightly, "I work from home, and sometimes barely speak to a living soul from one day to the next. I guess I get a bit lonely here on my own." He looked a bit sad.

"No girlfriend?" I wanted to make sure there was nobody to get jealous that a woman was moving in. The last thing I wanted was to put anyone's nose out of joint.

"Nope. My last girlfriend went to live in Australia, so don't worry, nobody to get arsey about a girl living here. I have to ask, any boyfriend?"

"No. I've been working like a demon for the last few years. No time for a man." Much to my mothers disgust, I thought.

"Well, I have no issue with you bringing friends back, but I'd rather not have a man move in here, so if you get serious with anyone, please bear that in mind."

"Will do. Can I see the room?"

"Sure, this way." James led me down a short corridor and opened a door. The room was enormous, with floor to ceiling windows covering one wall. There was just a large bed and a cabinet with a TV in the room. It looked a bit sparse. I walked over to the windows and stared at the view of the Thames.

"There's a dressing room through here, and an ensuite through that door," said James, pointing at two doors. Looking in the first one, I found a beautifully fitted out walk in wardrobe, with acres of hanging space, shoe racks and a dressing table. My paltry clothing collection would take up about a tenth of the space.

The ensuite was lovely. It had a large, deep bath, a separate shower, and a heated towel rail. It all looked brand new and pristine.

"How much is the rent?" I asked, suddenly nervous that I wouldn't be able to afford to live in this luxury.

"A thousand a month, but that includes all bills. Does that suit?" I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Fantastic, it's a deal." We shook hands. I arranged to pay the deposit and first months rent into James bank account via my laptop, and he gave me a key.

We bonded over another cup of coffee. I really warmed to James. He was just the right mixture of intelligence, geekiness and humour. We had thrashed out some basic house rules which, thankfully, didn't include hot water usage or rationing the gas. He also mentioned that he was an early riser, and hoped that it wouldn't be an issue for me to be quiet late at night. We both laughed when I pointed out that ten pm was staying up late for me.

I headed back to Welling with a spring in my step, eager to begin my new, London life. As predicted, my mum could barely contain her excitement at my moving out. She dug out the News Shopper and found an ad for a 'man with a van' who would be able to move all my belongings at short notice. He was able to do Thursday, so that left Wednesday to pack up, and get everything ready. I would still have a few days to unpack, settle in, and explore before starting work.

Mum was eager to help pack my belongings, and I actually didn't have much. The whole lot took us a morning to box and bag up. I had invested carefully in good work clothes, but apart from that, I didn't really buy a lot. Plus I had used the money I earned during my training contract to pay off my student loans, and build some savings, rather than blow it on clothes and makeup.

That afternoon, I decided to hop on a bus to Bluewater and treat myself to a haircut and some new work outfits ready for Monday.

I went into the swankiest salon there, and booked in for a trim. I kept my hair long, but the stylist added layers, and the whole effect was classy and grown up. Delighted with my new hair, I wandered round the boutiques trying on clothes until I found a fabulous navy dress and jacket combo which fitted like a dream, and projected just the image I was aiming for. I stocked up on tights and toiletries and bought a pair of navy heels to match my new dress. In a mad moment of optimism, I even bought a box of condoms before heading home.

The next morning a slightly grubby van pulled up outside the flat, and an even grubbier, skinny man got out. He wasted no time flinging my stuff in the back while I wrote out my new address for mum.

"You have fun, and don't work too hard," were her parting words of wisdom. No doubt Ray, her boyfriend was waiting round the corner for my van to pull away before rolling up with his bags.

As we pulled away from Welling, the excitement rose in my belly. This was the moment I had worked towards for six long years. My life could finally begin.

James helped van man with my bags and boxes, so with the three of us, it didn't take long. It took a further two hours to unpack and neatly hang my clothes in the closet.

"You don't have much stuff for a girl," said James, wandering in with two glasses of wine.

"I'm not a great shopper, and I've not had much spare cash to spend on clothes and stuff," I replied, a bit embarrassed by my meagre use of the dressing room. I aimed to spend 10% of my new salary on clothes every month to make sure I looked the part.

"Not criticising, just saying. I've got even less clothes than you," he said in a good natured way. He sat on the dressing table seat sipping his wine as I checked all my shoes for dirt before stowing them on the rack. He told me all about the new app he was working on, which sounded great, and described the other occupants of the building.

"The only unfriendly one is the fella on the floor below. Never says hello, and seems to bring lots of different women back. I saw one crying in the lobby once, said he threw her out. He's definitely one to stay away from."

"Thanks for warning me. He sounds delightful, not. Now is there a grocery store around here? I need to pick up a few bits."

"There's a small mart round the corner. What do you need?"

"Milk, bread, that kind of stuff."

"I had it all delivered today. There's loads in the fridge. I get everything ocado'd in. I have everything sorted for dinner tonight, thought you might be too busy with the move to worry about it."

"James, that's really kind of you, thank you. I'll pay you back."

"Nonsense, it's only a few groceries, and besides, I love to cook, but I never have anyone to cook for, so indulge me and let me prepare something." He smiled warmly, and wandered back to the kitchen area.

I hugged myself with glee. Sipping wine in a gorgeous apartment overlooking the river, with a new friend, and a new job. It was everything I'd imagined it would be.

"Elle," James yelled, "foods ready." I hurried into the kitchen as he dished up a pasta and tiger prawn concoction. He poured another two glasses of wine, and pushed one over to me.

"Bon appetite little Elle, and welcome to Canary Wharf. I hope you'll be very happy here." We clinked glasses.

"Thank you big James, and I'm sure I'm gonna love it." I took a bite of my pasta, it was all lemony and buttery, and delicious. "Wow, you are a great cook, this is gorgeous."

"You look like you need a bit of feeding up."

"I'm not a great eater. My mum only ever heated stuff up out of the freezer, so it was often better to go without than suffer the nightly unidentified breadcrumbed fare."

James laughed, a rich, deep, hearty laugh, "no wonder you're skinny. You need good, healthy, hearty food, especially with a pressurised job. Will they have you working all hours of the day and night?"

"Probably. I'm going in there as the lowest in the pecking order, so I'm in no doubt that I'll get the donkey work. Law is like that, hierarchy is everything. I'm pretty certain that I'll be given a cubby hole next to the bogs for my office, and the secretaries will be sly bitches. I don't mind though, I'm prepared to earn my stripes."

"I hated corporate life," James confided, "glad to be out of it. Hated sucking up to a useless wanker of a boss, and attending endless meetings. If I need a status meeting nowadays, I just look in a mirror."

"Do you always work alone? Or do you sometimes collaborate?" I asked.

"Always alone. I did one app a few years back with a designer, and it was a bit of a disaster, all style over substance, so since then, I do it all myself. So what made you go into law?"

I pondered his question. "Money really. Corporate law is a well paid profession, and I wanted to escape my background. I wanted to aim high, and I enjoy the intellectual rigour of law. I didn't want to be involved in criminal law because I hate grisly stuff, and family law is often emotionally draining. I like the detail of contract law, and the fact that its usually done in shiny, neat offices rather than police cells or prisons."

James smiled at me, "I admire your ambition, I wish I had more of it. I'm happy just sitting coding apps and dreaming up games."

"You did ok out of it," I said, sweeping my hand to indicate the apartment, "this place is fantastic."

"Yeah, I'm pretty lucky," he agreed.

I spent the first evening in my new home watching telly on the big flat screen in the living area. James had shown me how to use the coffee maker, and dishwasher, so I insisted he sat down while I cleared up after dinner, and made us both coffee. By nine, I was yawning, so bade him goodnight, and went to bed.

The next morning I was up at my normal time of half five. I wandered through to the kitchen to make tea, and discovered James boiling a kettle.

"Morning Elle, sleep well?"

"Morning, yeah great thanks. Is there enough water in the kettle for two?" James nodded. He looked even more dishevelled in his dressing gown and pyjamas, with his beard sticking out like bed hair. He pulled out another cup and threw a tea bag into it.

"So what's your agenda for today?"

"I'm gonna check out my new gym, pop into my new office to say hi, and explore my surroundings. Anything you need me to bring in?"

"Don't think so, I'll text you if I think of anything. I've got stuff in the fridge for dinner tonight, so don't worry about food."

"Ok, thanks, just let me know. I'm gonna take a shower now and head out." I took my tea back to my room and drank it while staring at the view from my window. After a luxurious shower, I dried my hair as I watched the stylist do, and applied a touch of makeup. I decided that trousers and flats were best bet for the day I had planned, so dressed in neat but trendy trousers and a simple cashmere jumper. As I wasn't sure what time the gym would open, I went back to the kitchen and made another tea. James wasn't around, so I sat quietly at the island and read through the bumf on the gym that HR had given me. It all looked pretty straightforward. I would have unlimited use of the facilities, and only pay for personal training. I checked the opening hours, finding that it opened at six. I would be able to do a workout in the mornings and still be at my desk by seven thirty, perfect. I finished my tea and placed mine and James cups in the dishwasher before heading down.

The lift stopped and the doors slid open while I was looking at my map of the area, and I automatically began to walk out, bumping straight into someone stepping in.

"I'm so sorry," I began, before noticing we were not in the lobby, and I had just bumped into Adonis himself. "I thought I was on the ground floor." I said lamely.

"Just be more careful," he snarled, before studiously ignoring me for the rest of the journey down. Must be the man James warned me about I thought. James didn't tell me he was sex on legs though. I surreptitiously studied him as he exited the lift. Short dark hair, bespoke suit, and a face that would be handsome if he smiled.

I was indeed five minutes away from the Canary Wharf tower, which rose majestically to top the surrounding skyscrapers. I followed the directions to the gym on the lower ground floor. It was a health enthusiasts dream, row upon row of state of the art equipment, complimentary towels, pristine changing rooms, and a full list of fitness classes. I booked in for an orientation session the following day, and picked up a class timetable. I exchanged my voucher from HR for my gym pass at the desk, and wandered around for half an hour, checking out the changing room and the machines.

My new office was based on the 34th floor of the tower, so at nine, I went up there to introduce myself. The receptionist was a pretty Asian girl, called Priti, who seemed efficient and welcoming. She introduced me to a few of the other lawyers, all of whom seemed friendly enough.

"I can show you where you'll be working," said a geeky, skinny man who introduced himself as Peter Dunn. "They told me you were starting Monday, so your desk is all ready."He showed me through a large open plan office full of people to a corridor of glass fronted offices. Pushing a door open, he revealed a large office with four desks. Two desks were occupied by men. Peter explained that he sat at the far end, and the final desk was earmarked for me. I introduced myself to the other two.

"I'm Adrian Jones, and he's Matt Barlow. So your the ex trainee we have to get up to speed then?"

"That's me. I hope you don't mind having a newbie around," I said, hoping to disarm them. I knew that nobody liked babysitting newbies.

"I'm sure we'll cope, and it'll be nice having a bit of eye candy around, eh boys? This firm has an ugly secretary only policy," Adrian sniggered.

"I'll do my very best to look pretty gentlemen, just don't forget I'm not a secretary." I smiled to make them think I was teasing.

"If you wear a tight blouse I promise I won't get you making tea," quipped Matt.

"I'll see what I can do," I laughed, "as long as you'll be able to concentrate on your work if I'm in here with my cleavage on show."

"She's gonna have every hotshot in the tower salivating over her, you have no chance," laughed Peter, looking amused at the adolescent behaviour of his colleagues. I had fully expected sexist banter, and it all seemed quite harmless. Certainly my office mates seemed friendly enough, and I was confident I'd be able to handle them.

I didn't hang around long, as I wanted to explore the whole area. I discovered the vast shopping complex beneath the tower, looking out for decent lunch places and a dry cleaners. I found wine bars, restaurants, and pubs for evenings out, and a gorgeous deli for supplying food for evenings in. I stopped off at a Starbucks for a coffee, and settled into a sofa to check my map.

"May I join you?" My head snapped up at the masculine voice. Adonis from the apartment block was standing in front of me.

"Sure," was all I could manage. I went back to my map. I could do rude too. He coughed slightly, which made me look up. He was staring intently.

"You just came out of Pearson and Hardwick," he said.

I stared back, "yes," I replied, giving nothing else away. He unnerved me, which I didn't like. I hoped he didn't work for them as well. He blew on his coffee before sipping it. I watched his mouth. He had the sexiest mouth.

"So what were you doing there?"

"I beg your pardon?" How rude was this man? Out of all the ways to frame a question, he had to pick the worst.

"Are you a secretary?" I almost spat my coffee at him.

"No I'm most certainly not. It's none of your business why I was there." I watched as his eyes flashed. I couldn't work out if he was laughing at me or angry.

"I suppose it's not, I just saw you in their offices. I was in there signing a contract," he said.

"Are you a client?" I asked, suddenly wary of upsetting him.

"No, I was there with my own legal team, they had drawn up a contract for the other party. So are you going to tell me why you were there?"

"I start work there Monday, I'm a lawyer for Pearson and Hardwick, just moving over to corporate. Went there today to introduce myself."

"So are you going to introduce yourself to me? Seeing as you nearly knocked me over at home and work two floors below me in the tower?"

"I'm Elle Reynolds. I just moved into the apartment, James' new flatmate. Have you lived there long?"

"About two years. I'm Oscar Golding, and it's very nice to meet you Elle." He leaned forward and shook my hand. His hand was surprisingly warm and soft for such a harsh looking man. I wanted to get a smile from him to see if I was right about him being more handsome. I gave him my best beaming smile, hoping he would reciprocate. He just about managed to turn the corners of his mouth up when his phone rang. As soon as he saw the screen, he scowled and excused himself. I went back to my coffee and my map.

I picked up a box of Krispy Kremes before heading home. James came out of his study when he heard the front door.

"Thank god you're back. I was going boggle eyed at my screen in there. What you been up to?" He made coffee and set out the box of doughnuts while I told him about the gym, my office, and the shopping mall.

"I bumped into our downstairs neighbour this morning, quite literally. He really is a strange one. Snarled at me in the lift, saw me in Starbucks this afternoon and managed to piss me off again."

James laughed, "how did he manage to piss off a jolly little thing like you?"

"Said he saw me in the Pearson and Hardwick offices and asked if I was a secretary." James' eyebrows shot up.

"Why did he assume you were a secretary? Stupid man."

"Quite. He really is quite unpleasant. Never smiles either." I sipped my coffee, and smiled at James demolishing the pile of doughnuts. "I did make sure he wasn't a client though."

"Clever move. Never a good idea to make a client feel like an idiot." We both laughed.

James made fajitas that evening, which were delicious. Afterwards I had a long hot bath before putting my pyjamas on and joining him for a bit of telly and a glass of wine before I turned in.