Humbug (4 page)

“Okay, listen,” I said, moving to stand right in front of her. I held my hands up in a gesture of surrender. “We’ll close up the office like you want. I won’t even call Phil. But I’ll still need to log on at home today or tomorrow in case anything urgent comes up, so I’m going to need my phone back. I can’t even work remotely without the password app.”

“Nice try, but no way. It’s for your own good.”

“But—”

“Suck it up, kid.”

I recognised that tone. It was the one she used when she’d made up her mind—there was no changing her mind on this.

“I’m sure you can find something other than work to do, for a day or two,” she added as she headed for the door. “You might even try having some fun.”

H
alf an hour later, I found myself standing outside the front door of the office, watching as Marley peeled away from the kerbside in her Porsche.

“Bye, guys,” Holly called out as she emerged from the building behind me. I turned to see her legging it down the street away from me, clearly worried I’d try to countermand Marley’s orders. “Have a great Christmas!” she called as she disappeared round the corner.

Brian was already gone, having been first out the door after carrying out Marley’s instructions.

I turned to my last remaining colleague. Rob stood beside me on the wet pavement, looking far too good in his navy peacoat. As always, he glowed with good health and vitality, the chestnut strands in his hair glinting in the pale winter sun. Right now he looked happy, a small smile curving his wide, mobile mouth as he gazed ahead, unaware of my scrutiny.

I wondered what he was thinking about—probably what he was going to do with the rest of his day.

“Well,” I said. “I guess you got what you wanted after all.”

He glanced at me, his smile fading. “What do you mean?”

I shrugged. “You wanted to leave early, didn’t you? And here you go. You got your wish.”

Rob’s lip curled. “And it’s just killing you, isn’t it? The thought of me actually getting to leave early when you were so determined to prevent me.”

I opened my mouth to defend myself but the words stuck in my throat. What could I say? I’d refused his request, hadn’t I? And here I was bringing it up again.

“You know what’s funny?” Rob went on, turning to face me properly. “When I first met you, I really liked you.”

I stared at him, astonished. “You
liked
me?”

“Yeah. You were funny and quick and incredibly bright”—he counted my qualities off on the fingers of one hand as he spoke—“and even though I could see you were a demanding sod, I thought you were a good guy. When you told me you were going to speak to your boss about getting me a job at Quicks, I figured that underneath the bark, there was a good heart to go with the pretty face.”

I blinked at the “pretty face” comment but before I could consider what it meant, Rob added, “And then I started working with you.”

And there it was. The inevitable
but
.

My stomach flipped over as I took in the expression on Rob’s face. The disapproval. Hell, the
dislike
. I dropped my gaze, feeling sick, waiting for him to start really putting the boot in.

Instead, he sighed. It was a big sigh, heavy with regret.

“I was going to leave this till January…” he began, and my gut clenched with a sudden, horrible premonition.

I snapped my gaze up to meet his and said quickly, “Listen, don’t make any hasty—”

“I’ve been offered another job,” he continued, speaking over me firmly and clearly. “I’ve already informally accepted it.”

Shit. Shit, shit,
shit
.

“Rob, please,” I said quickly, stepping closer. “
Please
don’t make any decisions yet. I know I’ve been a grumpy bastard but please, just think this through before you do something as drastic as leaving.”

“I have thought it through,” Rob replied firmly. “I don’t want to work at Quicks anymore. I want to do something different.”

Fuck. I really didn’t want to lose Rob from the team. He was solid and dependable and good-natured. Unflappable. Nothing fazed him. He got shit done, without offending or alienating anyone in the process. He smoothed over all the rough edges I created with my more…direct approach.

Without him, I was going to be toast.

I cleared my throat. “Okay, what’s this new job? Tell me about it.”

“It’s with the Council,” he replied easily. “In the Finance Department.”

“The Council!” I exclaimed, horrified. “You’ll get paid a pittance!”

Rob just shrugged.

“Seriously—you’ll be dropping, what, half your salary?”

He shrugged again, seeming unconcerned. “I’ll also get an additional week of annual leave, and a way better pension. Plus the hours are standard nine to five office hours with flexitime so I can build up hours by coming in early or working late and then, if I want to leave early anytime, I can do that without having to go cap in hand to my boss.” He raised an eyebrow at me and I felt my cheeks heat.

“Look, I’m sorry about earlier,” I said. “I was being a wanker, I know that.”

“You were,” he agreed, “But that’s not the main reason I’m leaving. Sure, I’ll get less money in this new job, but I’ll also work way less hours and that means I can spend more time with Tim.”

“Tim?”

The name was out of my mouth before I could think it through.

Rob stared at me for a long moment, then he said coldly, “My brother.”

His brother. I racked my brains for the information I was clearly supposed to already have but came up with nothing.

“I told you and Marley all about Tim when you interviewed me,” Rob added tightly.

Shit. I had no absolutely no memory of Rob mentioning his brother at his interview. Nothing but a vague, uncomfortable recollection of fielding emails on my phone under the table while Marley asked Rob interview questions. In my defence, I had already decided he should be hired—the interview was for Marley’s benefit, so I’d left all the talking to her. There were always so many emails to catch up with…

“You don’t remember,” Rob said flatly.

“Not exactly…” I trailed off, conscious that I was the worst manager in the world and that this complete and total ignorance about Rob’s personal circumstances would not be viewed kindly by Emily in HR.

“You don’t remember me telling you that my brother has Down’s syndrome?” His expression was disbelieving.

Oh shit.

I swallowed. “Rob, I—”

“Tim’s the reason I need to go home early today. He’s been going to his support group for the last eight years and he has lots of good friends there. They’re having a Christmas party this afternoon and Mum can’t take him. It’s important to him to be there, and if it’s important to Tim, it’s important to me.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realise.”

Rob’s gaze was grim and I realised suddenly how often he smiled—that it was strange to see him unsmiling.

“I’m not like you,” he said now. “I don’t want to work all the hours God sends. I want to spend time with Tim, and with the rest of my family and friends. My job’s just part of the picture.”

“I’m sorry,” I repeated miserably. “I really didn’t know about your brother. If I had…” I stopped, unsure how to finish that sentence, unsure what I would have done if I’d known.

“The reason you didn’t know,” Rob said tightly, “is because you didn’t care. You don’t care about anything except work.”

I winced and protested, “That’s not fair.” But the truth was, his words made my gut churn with a sick sort of recognition.

“It’s entirely fair,” Rob went on. “I told you and Marley all about my personal situation that day and you didn’t even do me the courtesy of listening to me, did you?” He shook his head. “You know, it’s true what everyone says about you. You really
are
a dick. I can’t believe I used to defend you.”

I couldn’t think of a word I could say to defend myself, and in the face of my pathetic silence, he gave another disbelieving laugh and looked away, gazing unseeingly across the street. I hated that laugh. It was bitter and angry and disappointed and it made me realise that Rob thought I was a shitty person. Worse, he clearly wasn’t the only one.

It’s true what everyone says about you…

That hurt more than it probably should have, and it felt unfair besides. I wasn’t such a bad guy, was I?

I took a deep breath. “Look,” I said, “I know I’m not Mr. Touchy-Feely, but I’m not such a bad guy either.”

Rob turned back to me. “You reckon?” he said, and his usually warm brown gaze froze me. “Do you even know what your nickname in the office is?”

“No,” I whispered.

“Skinflint.”

“Skinflint,” I repeated faintly.

“Quin Flint—skin flint,” he explained, emphasising the obvious rhyme. “Not exactly subtle, I know, but I can’t argue with its accuracy. Haven’t you noticed that no one comes to ask you for anything if they can possibly help it? If you’re given an expenses claim to approve you always question it—it’s as though you think we’re asking for money out of your own pocket! You’re as bad with leave requests. You make people feel like they’re asking for this huge favour, instead of taking time off that they’re entitled to. Do you think I
wanted
to speak to you this morning about leaving early? The only reason I did was because Marley wasn’t there.” He was furious, his dark eyes sparking with temper, and all I could do was stand there. I couldn’t deny anything he’d said. Eventually, I looked away, feeling wretched.

I can’t believe I used to defend you.

For some reason, the worst part was knowing that perhaps Rob hadn’t completely hated me till today.

The silence between us stretched uncomfortably but I didn’t know how to break it.

In the end, it was Rob who did, sighing heavily, then saying in a flat tone, “I should go. I need to get back to take Tim to his party.”

Reluctantly, I returned my gaze to him. He was watching me with the weirdest look on his face. Like maybe he felt as shitty about all this as I did. He certainly didn’t look as though he’d enjoyed saying his piece.

“Okay,” I mumbled. “Well, I hope you have a good Christmas with your family.”

“Thanks,” he said, his dark gaze oddly bleak. “Same to you.” And with that, he turned on his heel and trudged away, shoulders hunched against the cold.

S
kinflint.

Quin Flint, Skinflint.

Haven’t you noticed that no one comes to ask you for anything if they can possibly help it?

The words circled in my head as I walked home, my hands thrust deep in my pockets against the cold.

…it’s as though you think we’re asking for money out of your own pocket or something…

Was I really that unpopular with my colleagues?

I told myself I didn’t care. So what if I’d offended them by asking a few reasonable questions about their expenses forms. Did they expect me to approve anything they put in front of me? Grant any leave request? Would I really be doing my job properly if I didn’t scrutinise these things? But even as I tried to justify my actions to myself, I recognised, with a sick feeling, that Rob’s words were true. I had recognised the truth of them as surely as though he’d held a mirror up to me and I’d seen my own face.

Lost in my own thoughts, I jumped when I suddenly heard a new voice calling my name.

“Quin! Quin, wait up!”

A new voice, but an oh-so-familiar one.

I stopped and turned, and sure enough, there was Ben, my ex, jogging towards me. He was dressed in the casual clothes he favoured—jeans, a hoodie, a denim jacket. An orange beanie hid his blond hair. Another guy was walking behind him, bringing up the rear more slowly. He was tall, leanly muscled and Asian—all details which confirmed I was about to meet the famous Leon, Ben’s new boyfriend, whose too-perfect-to-be-true credentials Freddy had already filled me in on in sickening detail. Leon was handsome, attentive to Ben and had an incredibly well-paid engineering job in the oil and gas industry. Oh, and just like Ben, he loved to travel. I was very ready to hate him.

“Hi,” I called, as Ben closed the distance between us, somehow dredging up a smile. “It’s great to see you!”

I didn’t sound awfully convincing to myself, but Ben didn’t seem to detect my lack of enthusiasm.

“Oh my God, tell me about it!” he cried, grabbing hold of me and pulling me into a bear hug. “It’s been way too long.” He rocked me tightly from side to side for a few seconds before pushing me back to give me a good look over, his hands still gripping my upper arms.

“God, Quin, you look amazing!” he exclaimed happily. He beamed at me, then winked and added, “Of course, you look too tired, as usual, but still…smokin’ hot.”

Leon drew level with us. He slid a proprietary arm round Ben’s shoulders and sent me a pleasant, if not hugely friendly, smile.

“Quin, this is Leon,” Ben told me, then he looked at his boyfriend and said, “Babe, this is Quin. You meet at last.”

They exchanged a brief look, and although nothing obvious passed between them, I felt like they shared something right then. It made me wonder what Ben had told Leon about us. When Leon turned his attention back to me, the indulgent smile Ben had coaxed from him melted away, and the more reserved one of before returned. He held out a hand.

“Hi, Quin. I’ve heard a lot about you. It’s good to meet you at last. I can’t believe it’s taken so long.”

I shook his hand. “Me either. And it’s good to meet you too.”

All lies.

“The reason it’s taken so long for you to meet,” Ben told Leon, “is that Quin never turn up to any of our nights out. He’s always working.” He turned to me and added, “Babe, you really gotta come out sometime. All work and no play…”

I wondered if that was a barb, but Ben’s expression stayed as open and friendly as ever, his broad smile still firmly in place.

I cleared my throat uncomfortably. “Well,” I said weakly. “You know how it is with my job.”

Ben smiled and shrugged. “I guess some things never change.”

“Are you coming out tonight at least?” Leon asked. “Freddy mentioned she was going to try and get you to join us.”