Page 27 of Behind Frenemy Lines

Kriya

Charles was looking frazzled when I got to the office, the morning of the Wednesday after Loretta’s wedding. He was glaring at the screen, his hair standing up as though he’d been tugging at it. I smiled at him, but didn’t say anything. Presumably he was busy, not in the mood for small talk.

I’d thought it might feel awkward, seeing Charles again after everything that had happened at the wedding.

But it was weirdly normal. It was as if, having gone through the extremes of the possible relationships available to us—from work nemeses (though to be fair, I was the only one who’d characterised our relationship that way; before I’d turned up at his office, Charles had apparently thought of me as “that girl who drafted the witness statement for Mackintosh Cereals”), to romantic partners (albeit fake)—we’d learned the worst and could be comfortable with each other.

Though “comfortable” wasn’t quite the right word for the flutter in my stomach when I looked at Charles’s throat, rising out of his collar. His lower lip was surprisingly full. He chewed on it when he was thinking hard. I could have bitten it when I kissed him. Set my teeth in his lip, gently.

I shoved the thought to the back of my mind to join all the other inappropriate and unacceptable feelings that lived there.

I was sad and horny, that was all. My brain was looking for someone to latch on to after finally accepting the Tom I loved was never coming back to me—had, in a sense, never existed.

Charles was close at hand; he was kind and funny; he was professionally competent; and unfortunately for me, I knew for a fact he had amazing thighs. So I wanted to suck his dick.

Pretty pathetic all round. I needed to start dating again. Or at least buy a vibrator.

Charles finished up a spate of typing, clicked his mouse once, and leaned back, sighing.

He looked over at me. “Sorry, we had a new matter come in yesterday. It’s been a bit of a scramble. Were you all right getting home after the wedding?”

“It was fine. How’d it go with your family? Have we put the gay conversion rumours to rest?”

Charles rolled his eyes. “Nobody’s said anything to me. I suspect Loretta just wanted me to find a date for the wedding. She’s very concerned about my love life.”

He blushed. So did I, remembering Loretta’s drunken petition on Charles’s behalf: He really likes you.

I’d assumed Loretta’s speech was the product of champagne and delusion. Watching the flush climb Charles’s cheek now, I wondered, for the first time, if there might be some truth in what Loretta had said.

The idea was discomfiting. What I liked about my relationship with Charles was how nice it was, in a surprisingly uncomplicated way. If Charles really did like me, it was not going to stay uncomplicated.

Because I liked him. Enough, I suspected, that I’d be willing to ignore the complications.

“It was nice meeting Loretta,” I said, to take my mind off these alarming thoughts. “Have she and Hayley gone on honeymoon now?”

Charles was telling me about their trip to Japan when my personal phone buzzed.

Amma was due to see the dentist that day about her dodgy tooth. Maybe she’d sent an update.

I had received a message, but it was from Rosalind. Despite all my efforts, I’d yet to train her out of using WhatsApp for business communications.

Sorry, I know you’re desperately busy, but the new lawyer is useless and I don’t know what to do. Do you have time for a call? I promise it will be quick!!!

Strange. I popped my headset on and rang Rosalind on her direct line.

Rosalind picked up on the second ring.

“Oh thank God, Kriya. This German woman is driving me mad. She keeps peppering me with questions about the compliance protocol. When I answer them, she turns around and sends me a million more questions. I sent the latest batch to this new lawyer who’s taken over, but he’s hopeless.

You won’t believe his reply—wait, I’ll read out his email.

‘These questions depend on the context of Sanson’s operations.

We believe Sanson is best placed to answer them, but please let us know if it would be helpful to have a call.

’ Can you believe this little shit? It would be helpful for him to go fuck himself. ”

“Rosalind—”

“I know you’re on this big new case now, but can we find a solution? I can’t work with this guy.”

“Rosalind, slow down,” I said. “What new lawyer is this? Who are you talking about?”

“This guy Milo. Milo Deacon.”

“Milo Deacon,” I echoed. I’d seen Milo around: he was a junior associate who did banking litigation.

If we exchanged “hellos” when we passed in the corridor, that was as much contact as I’d ever had with him.

I only remembered his name because of its association with the beverage. “Why is Milo Deacon emailing you?”

“He’s taken over, because of your new case.”

“Who told you I’ve got a new case?”

“Arthur,” said Rosalind. “He emailed saying you no longer have capacity to advise on the protocol, so Milo will be helping going forward. But I have to say, Kriya, he’s no replacement for you. Fine, he’s cheaper, but I don’t come to a firm like brC because I think you’re going to be cheap.”

Rosalind’s voice throbbed with feeling. It wasn’t the moment to pick her up on her slip about the firm name.

“I come to you for advice because you make my life easier,” she continued. “So far, this Milo is not making my life easier. I don’t care if I have to pay more. You tell me, have I ever made an issue of the bills? You have targets to meet, I understand. If the work is good, it’s not a problem.”

“No, you’re very good with bills,” I said absently. “One of my prize clients.”

A prize client Arthur had reassigned to an associate with all of two years’ post-qualification experience, who was too busy to even pretend to be interested. And Arthur hadn’t told me.

“There’s been some misunderstanding,” I said briskly. “I’m never too busy for Sanson, or you. I’ll talk to Arthur. Let’s go through these questions from your German colleague. Can you forward me the email?”

We ended the call after a productive hour and a half, Rosalind fully soothed.

“Thank you so much, Kriya. When Arthur said you weren’t going to be advising anymore, I felt like a baby bird thrown out of the nest by its mother. Like you had abandoned me in the desert with these idiots.”

“No problem,” I said. “Let me know if there’s any follow-up from Germany. I can hop on a call and we can hammer out the issues together. I’ll feed back to Arthur that the cover he put in place wasn’t satisfactory. Take care.”

I took my headset off slowly.

“Was that Rosalind?” said Charles.

When I didn’t answer, he looked away from his computer, his forehead starting to crease. “Kriya? You all right?”

“Yes,” I said. “Sorry. I need to go speak to Arthur.”

Thinking about challenging Arthur on why he’d pushed me out of the Sanson work made me feel sick. I knew if I didn’t do it straight away, there was a real risk I wouldn’t do it at all. So I charged off down the corridor before I could think better of it.

I could see how there might be good intentions behind Arthur trying to boot me out of the office I shared with Charles.

It probably would be a bad idea to share an office with someone you were dating.

I wasn’t even dating Charles, and I was already finding it distracting being in the same room with him for around ten hours a day, three days a week, watching him bite his lower lip.

Taking my most important client off me without telling me, though? I couldn’t see how Arthur could spin that, to me or himself, as being in my interests, or the firm’s. It couldn’t be about anything except retaliation for what had happened in Hong Kong.

Except there was no way Arthur would admit that. He couldn’t afford to. So he’d have to make it about me, about my fitness for the job.

If Arthur was willing to lie to Rosalind, what might he start saying about me to other people? To other clients and partners?

A blonde woman was emerging from Arthur’s office as I arrived at the end of the corridor. I’d seen her around the floor before, but it took me a moment to remember her name—Emily, one of the junior associates. She’d only qualified into the department a few months before Arthur and I had joined.

There was something odd about this, but I didn’t have capacity to worry about it now. I filed it away to think about later.

I poked my head around the door. “Arthur, have you got a moment?”

Was I imagining it, or did Arthur look guilty?

If so, it was only for a split second. He said, perfectly naturally, “Oh, hi, Kriya. Sure. What can I do for you?”

“I just got off a call with Rosalind.” This was a closed-door conversation, but I didn’t really want to shut myself in with Arthur.

This end of the corridor was too quiet, with no witnesses.

Nobody came down here unless they wanted to talk to Arthur, or the main colour printer was broken.

Our PA Victoria, who usually sat in the pod outside, worked from home on Wednesdays.

I compromised by pulling the door to, but leaving it ajar.

“Rosalind said you told her I’m too busy with a new case to advise on the protocol, and she should speak to Milo Deacon.” I crossed my arms. “I’m not sure if there’s been some confusion? I am not working on any new case, as far as I know.”

I gave Arthur a pointed look.

“Yes,” he said, unflustered. “That was when I thought Xinwei was going to confirm instructions to proceed right after we got back from Hong Kong. That’s obviously been going more slowly than we’d like.

I’m confident we’ll get the work—they’re still saying it’s urgent, we’ll have to move quickly once it comes through—but it’s got stuck in their internal processes.

“Anyway, I’ve been thinking about Sanson,” he went on. “The relationship needs a refresh. The way it’s limited to you and Rosalind is a real risk to us. What if she moves on?”

Arthur’s lack of embarrassment took the wind out of my sails. He wasn’t speaking like a man who was conscious of hav ing done anything wrong. I found myself scrabbling for the indignation that had borne me down the corridor.

“I agree we could do more to strengthen the Sanson relationship,” I said.

I’d been trying for years to persuade Arthur to let me introduce colleagues in other practice areas to Sanson, with limited success.

“I’m happy to get others involved. But I would have appreciated a heads-up before you spoke to Rosalind. ”

Arthur nodded slowly. “I should have spoken to you about it.” He raised his eyes to mine. “But I haven’t been sure if you wanted to talk to me.”

I didn’t roll my eyes, but it took a conscious effort not to do it. “I would have liked you to talk to me about this. ”

“But not about anything personal?”

I didn’t know what to say to that. As I hesitated, Arthur’s lip curled, wry.

“I’ll be honest, Kriya,” he said. “These last few weeks have been challenging. I’ve tried to give you space, since that seemed to be what you wanted.

But it hurt to find out you didn’t trust me enough to be honest about your relationship with Charles.

I consider you a friend. It’s been tough realising that’s not how you see me. ”

I recognised this self-pitying mood in Arthur. Since the divorce, he had a tendency to wallow. I was used to making the necessary sympathetic noises about Arthur’s woes, but I’d never been identified as the source of those woes before.

Well done, Kriya. You happy-happy rushed down the corridor to scold your boss. Now he’s turned it on you. What are you going to do?

“There’s nothing between me and Charles,” I said, then stopped.

It did sound like a lie, now. I could hear the ring of falsity in it. From the way Arthur was pursing his lips, I could see he heard it, too.

It wasn’t a lie, though. The spark of chemistry, a fake kiss in the alcove of a hotel, even an entire wedding where we were pretending to be dating for one specific auntie’s benefit, didn’t amount to a relationship.

And anyway, whatever was going on between me and Charles, it was none of Arthur’s business.

“But even if there was, are you surprised I might not want to tell you?” My palms were damp, my heart hammering against my ribs, but I held Arthur’s gaze.

“What happened in Hong Kong did affect how I see you, Arthur. I don’t think it’s surprising if I don’t feel as comfortable sharing certain things as I might have before. ”

Arthur was practically vibrating with coiled energy. He sprang to his feet and went to the window. “I apologised. I wish it had never happened.”

Not I wish I’d never done it, I noticed. “And I appreciated the apology, but—”

“Our relationship is so important to me,” said Arthur, turning away from the window. “We’ve been through so much together, over the years. You’ve seen sides of me Kelly never saw.”

I did not like the way Arthur was looking at me, or the way he was comparing me to his ex-wife. If only Victoria was in the pod on the other side of the door today. I would have been much more comfortable with witnesses around.

I needed to redirect this conversation away from the personal, back towards work, and my grievance.

“And I hope we’ll continue to work together for many more years,” I said. “But it’ll take time to rebuild that trust. What won’t help is if you make decisions that affect me and my clients without consulting me.”

Arthur’s shoulders drooped. He sat back down, sighing. “You’re right. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

“Thank you,” I said.

I was very ready to escape, but then Arthur said:

“I do think it’s not a good use of your time to be drafting emails for Rosalind. You need to be focusing on bigger-ticket work.”

The abrupt reversion to normal work talk was dizzying.

If I’d been less bewildered, I might have pointed out that my relationship with Rosalind had led to big-ticket work several times.

Our old firm’s New York Product Liability team had been kept busy for three years on a class action against Sanson US that Rosalind had originally referred to me.

But the reminder wouldn’t have helped. Arthur had a chip on his shoulder about that case, since the work hadn’t gone to him.

“I’d like you to get Emily involved in the Sanson work,” said Arthur. “If you can start pushing the BAU stuff down to her, that will free you up for higher level work. I’d like you to lead on the Xinwei project, for example. That’s the sort of thing we need you to be doing.”

“OK,” I said, mostly because I wanted to get out of his office. This was the kind of conversation I didn’t mind having with Arthur, but I had no way of knowing when he might strike off again and start talking about his feelings.

Sure enough, Arthur looked up and said:

“Kriya. Are we all right?”

“Yes,” I lied, and fled.