10. KYLE
10
KYLE
The evening with Mike was everything I needed. Sometimes when things feel like they’re spiralling out of control, all you need is a night out with your best friend. Thank goodness for Mike.
We talked through what’s going on with his book, and how that’s all been going. He’s nearly finished his edits on book one and is slowly working through the sequel. He’s going to have to start thinking about a launch party soon and I think that’s causing him a bit more stress than he’s letting on. Since he left his job to become a full-time writer, it feels like things have been on a bit of a knife edge with him. I’m sure he’ll get through it, though, and I’ll be there if he needs me, like he’s always there for me.
He gave me a little more advice about the Kyle situation too. I think he can see where I’m coming from, and he can definitely see where I’ve fucked up and what I need to do to make sure this is right.
Today’s a fresh start, I tell myself. I’ll go in there and I’ll be his best friend. It’ll be great. I am so sure of it.
I go out for a run in the morning instead of taking my usual trip to the gym. I don’t want to bump into Larry there again. I don’t want things to be made even more awkward by having to avoid one another at the gym. I think we could both do without that.
I get dressed and head to the office, trying to ignore the pitter patter of my heart in my chest as I pass Maria and make my way through to my office. Larry has beaten me here. Wearing a pair of smart trousers and a blue shirt, he looks very handsome. Scrubs up really nicely in fact.
I smile as I approach, wanting to look friendly, like someone who’s going to be a good boss and not someone who’s going to make it super awkward. He doesn’t look up as I approach. Maybe he’s not seen me.
“Good morning, Larry,” I say when I reach my office.
“Good morning, Mr Carter,” he says, voice flat. Monotone. There’s a coolness to it that sets me on edge. “Your schedule of meetings is printed out on your desk. Do you need coffee?”
“Um…” He’s thrown me off balance. The detachment is so different from the little puppy dog that was here a couple of days ago. “Coffee would be great, thank you.”
“How do you take it?”
“Excuse me?” I splutter.
“Coffee,” he says. “How do you take your coffee?”
“Milk, two sugars,” I say. “Please. If you don’t mind.”
“No problem at all,” he says, grabbing his ID card and walking away from his desk.
I look across at Peter, who has watched all of this unfold. He quickly turns his attention back to his computer.
“Peter, have I done something?”
Peter looks up at me and raises an eyebrow. “Mr Carter, he’s just trying to be the assistant that you want him to be.”
“He’s being so cold.”
“Pot meet kettle,” he says.
“What?”
“You were awful to him the other day, Kyle. Come on,” he says. “At least try and make it up to him.”
“That’s what I was doing. I’m smiling and everything.”
Peter scoffs. “Do better.”
I wait until he comes back from getting the coffee, trying to stay extra smiley while he hands it to me… while he goes over the schedule… while he does his best to keep me at arms length.
Suddenly all the things I promised I’d say go out of my head—the apology for not feeling well yesterday, the hope for a fresh start today, it’s all gone. And I can hear Mike on the other side of town scolding me about it, because what the hell do I think I’m doing?
The day is excruciating. It’s painful to be so close to him and for him to be desperately trying to get further away from me. I try not to let it bother me, try not to allow my feelings to cloud my head, but here I am, cloudy as an autumn day.
The few times I manage to catch his eye throughout the day, there’s a distant look. He isn’t trying to impress, he isn’t trying to get me to like him. Apparently I gave a shitty first impression, and that first impression sucked the big one and has ruined this.
“Larry, could you please bring me the files for my meeting this afternoon?”
“They’re already on your desk, Mr Carter,” Larry calls, not looking away from his computer, fingers moving across the keys at lightning speed. Does he sound exasperated by me? I can’t help but feel like he does. Damn. Damn it all. “I’ll be happy to come in and show you?” He stops and looks over at me. He doesn’t want to come over and show me, and I think I’d rather not force him.
“It’s no problem, I’ll find them,” I say. I try to turn my focus to my work but I can’t help but think about Larry’s shift from warm to cold. It’s like I’m running into a wall every time I try and reach across the chasm between us.
I grab a stack of papers from my desk to get ready for my mid-afternoon meeting, making my way to the copy room. Normally, it’s the kind of job an assistant would do, but given how things are between Larry and me right now, I don’t want to put more things on his plate. I’m already pretty sure he hates me. I don’t want to make it worse.
He gets up from his desk shortly after me, a stack of papers of his own in his arms. I wonder for a second if he’s following me, or if he actually has things to copy. Maybe now is the time to have the conversation. The copy room is a pretty neutral space to be in, no one has any kind of power or high ground in here, it’s just whoever’s trying to get some copying done.
I go to open the door, ushering Larry in.
“After you,” I say, holding the door open.
“I can do those for you, Mr Carter,” Larry says as he steps inside. “Leave the instructions with me and I’ll make sure I get them done.”
I walk into the copy room, allowing the door to click shut behind me. The silence between us stretches out uncomfortably, and I’m suddenly aware of standing in a very small room with my assistant who I fooled around with the day before yesterday, and I realise just how terrible the optics of this are.
“Larry,” I start, trying to sound casual. “About the other day?—”
“I don’t really want to talk about it,” Larry replies, not looking up. He’s focussing on the copy machine, apparently not having a clue how to work it because he’s just staring at it.
“Okay, I get that but?—”
“Do you?” Larry turns to look at me, eyes sharp. “It doesn’t feel like it because you’re still talking about it.”
I open my mouth to respond but Larry has turned back to the copier, back to staring at a screen I’m not sure he understands. He presses a few buttons and the machine whirs into life. My pulse starts to quicken.
“Okay, what is this?” I ask.
“Nothing, Mr Carter,” Larry replies. “I’m doing my job.”
“Stop calling me Mr Carter, Larry,” I snap. “It’s Kyle. You know it’s Kyle.”
Larry’s eyes flick up to meet mine, and for a moment, something flashes in them—anger, hurt, maybe both—but it’s gone so quickly I’m sure I’ve imagined it. Or maybe that’s wishful thinking.
“I’m trying to keep things professional, Mr Carter, ” Larry says pointedly. “I’m taking your lead from the other day. I don’t want things to get awkward.”
“That’s what I’m trying to do by… by being better.”
“Being better?”
“Yes, I?—”
“You think you can come in here and smile at me and I’m going to be completely fine about things?”
“I didn’t mean to be so… You caught me off guard,” I say, suddenly on the back foot. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. I just wanted to talk to him, to explain.
“So you decided to be a dick to me all day,” Larry says. “And then yesterday I have to come out of work and see you with your partner, sitting there all lovey dovey. I mean look, I’m not trying to get in the way of your relationship or whatever, and maybe you’re open, I don’t know—far be it from me to say anything about it, it’s none of my business—but I deserve to be treated with some respect, don’t I?”
I blink. I’ve missed something. Somewhere in all of this I’ve missed a step.
“Who are you talking about?” I ask. “Who did you see me with?”
“The man last night? At Dean’s, in town?”
I think back, trying to remember if I went out with someone other than Mike last night because he can’t be… no… he doesn’t.
“You mean Mike?”
“Okay, Mike. Sorry I don’t know your partners name.”
I scoff. “Mike’s not my partner.”
Larry’s turn to blink and look a little lost. “He’s not?”
“No!” I exclaim. “That’s my friend Mike. He’s just a friend. We went out for dinner, he was… he was actually giving me a lot of useful advice about you. You should be thanking him.”
“Don’t push it,” he snaps, though he can’t keep a smirk off his face. Even he knows he’s jumped to a conclusion here. “You were shitty on my first day,” he adds.
“I know.”
“Why?”
“It was awkward,” I say. “I didn’t know what I was supposed to do.”
“Treat me like a person,” he says. “I didn’t know what to do either. I’d had your dick in my mouth literally hours before I found out you were my boss. That’s… that’s pretty uncomfortable.”
My body reacts at the very mention of what happened yesterday because now I can see it in my head, see him on his knees for me, hear my voice growling at him and calling him a “good lad.”
“It is pretty uncomfortable,” I say, willing myself to be less excited, but suddenly painfully aware of just how close we’re standing, just how tiny the copy room is. “I… I didn’t know how to act. I thought professional distance was a good idea, but that’s actually just made you feel a little bit hurt and unwanted and I don’t want to do that either. So… how about a fresh start?”
The copier beeps, signalling the end of the print job. Larry retrieves his stack of papers and looks at me, considering it for a moment.
He smiles. “Sure thing. Fresh start,” he says. “I’ll be back at my desk. Just shout if you need anything.”
He moves to open the door, pulling down the handle but it’s stuck. He turns to look at me accusingly, then tries again.
“Fuck.”