Page 25 of Behind Frenemy Lines

He’d be normal by the time we were back in the office, I told myself. It was being abroad and sad about his ex-wife and drinking too much wine. He probably didn’t realise how he’d been coming off. I couldn’t believe that Arthur might really have been… No. I’d worked with him for so long. He wasn’t like that.

My hotel room was dark when I let myself in. I could see Hong Kong through the bank of windows, lit up in the night.

Ant-like cars and buses and trams sped along glowing roads. Beyond them was the dark expanse of the sea. Ferries and junks moved to and fro, cutting through the wavering reflections of the city’s lights on the surface of the water.

The fruit bowl on the side table had been refilled, as it was every day, with one orange, one honey-scented apple, and one crisp yellow pear. I collapsed into an armchair, biting into the apple, watching the lights outside and thinking about nothing in particular.

There was a knock at the door.

Arthur was standing in the corridor, in the same suit he’d worn all day. He looked sweaty and dishevelled, more like a man you’d swerve away from in the street than a successful law firm partner.

“Er,” I said. “Is everything all right?”

Everything was obviously not all right. But it wasn’t like I had anywhere I could run to. I could shut the door in his face, but I had to work with the guy.

My best strategy was to pretend everything was normal and hope that shamed Arthur out of whatever it was he’d come here to do.

“I’m sorry,” said Arthur.

I could smell the alcohol fumes coming off him. I shuffled back, wishing I’d left the door chain secured.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you, all evening,” said Arthur huskily. “What would happen if I took a chance and came to your room.”

“Oh,” I said. It was the kind of noise you let out when you put your hand in the kitchen cabinet to grab a mug and a lizard ran over it.

My brain engaged just in time to stop me from saying anything else. But the tone had been enough.

Arthur blinked several times. “I’ve screwed up, haven’t I. I’m sorry.” He passed his hand over his eyes. They were less piercing than usual, red from tiredness and alcohol. “It’s been such a busy week, and then I turn up here. You must be thinking I’ve lost it.”

I wasn’t sure what to say. Agreeing was too risky. Arthur might be drunk enough to be making bad decisions, but he didn’t seemquitedrunk enough not to remember my reactions the next day. “Arthur…”

“I couldn’t let you go without at least giving it a shot.” He took a deep breath. “I need you to know, you’re the most important woman in my life. I just thought I’d ask if you thought… in case it was something you’d, you know, be open to exploring…”

This was in some ways a very familiar situation. Arthur was fumbling for a thought. My role was to step in and clarify it, help him grasp the idea he was reaching for.

Except this time, the thing he was reaching for wasme.

I’d been mad at Arthur before, for many legitimate reasons. I knew all his foibles: his possessiveness with clients; his insistence on taking all the credit even if he’d done none of the work; his tendency to swing between micromanaging and disengagement; the fact his inbox was perpetually two thousand unread emails deep.

But he’d always been a decent boss, as partners went. I understood how he worked, and he understood me. So I’d thought.

Arthur was still talking. “I want you to think about it. Take all the time you need. We make a great team. I think we could be good together, you know?”

The silence stretched out. Arthur looked expectant, and also like it would take a literal earthquake to move him.

“I have a boyfriend,” I blurted.

“You what?” Arthur looked like someone had upended a bucket of cold water over his head. Maybe I should have tried that. “I thought you broke up with Tom.”

“Yes, it’s, uh, it’s someone else,” I said. “Look, Arthur, I’ve always had so much respect for you.”Before you hit on me.“I think of you as a friend.”A friend who is also my boss, so I have to do what you tell me to, whether I like it or not.“And you know, I value our professional relationship and all the support and leadership you’ve shown. I don’t want anything to come in the way of that, or to risk—”my career and my family’s financial stability.

I paused to think of something I could say out loud.

“Who is it?”

“What?”

“This guy you’re dating,” said Arthur. “It can’t have been—you only broke up with Tom a few months ago.” He paused. Suspicion crossed his face. “Why didn’t you mention you’ve been seeing someone before?”

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