Page 6 of Merry & Bright

I suddenly realised he’d been talking and blinked, embarrassed. “Sorry, what was that?”

“I said, I know we’re a bit low on staff this week, but would you mind if I left early today? I’ve already made up the time—I worked on that billing spreadsheet late last night at home and I came in early to finish it.”

I opened my mouth to agree then shut it again, thinking. Marley had always taught me that when someone asked you for something, you should never give it to them too easily.

Make them earn it. Better for them, better for you.

And there was that timekeeping thing I’d been meaning to raise with him...

I sighed. “Listen, Rob. You’ve had some attendance issues recently that I think we need to address before we talk about you taking time off. I’ve noticed...”

I trailed off, registering his suddenly incredulous expression. He looked so affronted I half expected him to start shouting at me, but then he seemed to get control of himself, taking a deep breath and schooling his expression back to neutrality.

“Fine,” he gritted out. “I’ll find a space in our diaries to sit down and talk about any concerns you have after the Christmas holidays, but today, I need to leave at lunchtime. You needn’t worry—I won’t be completely offline. I’ll still be contactable by phone if something important comes up. You can just call or text me and I’ll—”

“Hang on,” I interrupted, glaring at him. That take-charge tone he was using riled me with its assumption of authority. “You’re getting ahead of yourself. Let me be clear: the answer to your request is no. I expect you here till five thirty as usual—beyond that, if required. You know how it works here, Rob. We’re a client-focused firm, a service provider. We need to be available.”

Rob glared at me. “I’ve more than made the time up, and Emily’s always going on about our flexible working policy—”

Emily, our HR Manager in Manchester, was a fucking liability in my opinion.

“It’s flexible workingby arrangement,” I snapped. “Not just whenever you like because you happen to feel like doing a bit of late Christmas shopping.”

His face grew red. “Christ, you really are a monumental dick, Quin!”

That was so unexpected that I just stood there and gaped. Rob was the most easy-going guy I’d ever met. I’d never heard him so much as raise his voice before. The only sign he usually gave of being pissed off was when he retreated into rigid formality.

“You have literallynoidea why I’m asking to leave early,” he went on angrily, his dark eyes flashing with sudden temper. “What’s more you clearly don’t give ashitthat I worked at home till after midnight last night, then came in at the crack of dawn to make up the time in advance—twice over as it happens. You just say no, without even asking why I need the time off.”

I ignored the faint pang of guilt his angry words invoked, instead saying loftily, “That’s not the point. The point is that you can’t just land this on me without any notice. There’s hardly anyone in today. What if we’re asked to pick up a new project urgently? I need you here, Rob.”

“No, you don’t! Youdon’tneed me. You don’t even need that fucking billing spreadsheet, although you pretended to, just so you could hold it over my head. It’s the fucking twenty-third of December.Our biggest project of the last year has ended, and everything else is in hand. No one will need anything for the next few days because it’s fuckingChristmas. And if they do need something, all you need to do is call me andI will come back!”

For several long moments, we both just stood there, staring at each other. He was breathing heavily and I felt like a stunned rabbit, as it gradually dawned on me that I hadn’t handled this at all well and now needed a face-saving way out of my managerial fuckup.

I was desperate enough to welcome any kind of distraction, so when the security door opened and someone spoke my name, I gratefully turned away.

I took me several moments to recognise the woman facing me.

“Marley?”

I’d known Marley Jacob for almost six years, but without the suit, the makeup, the heels, and the glossy, styled hair she looked unfamiliar. The woman standing in front of me was wearingjeans—I’d’ve put money on Marley not even owning a pair of jeans—and her usually perfectly made-up face was pale and blotchy from crying.

Clearly something was very wrong—and I had no idea what to say or do. I gaped at her, standing there, tearful and lost looking.

Luckily Rob seemed to have more common sense than me when it came to this sort of thing. He stepped towards her, saying, “Marley, what’s wrong?”

“My brother died last night,” she whispered. Then she began to sob.