Page 31 of Tell Me Something

“Ken, this is Haylee, my assistant.”

“So nice to meet you. First time to Hong Kong?”

“Yes, it is. Nice to meet you too,” I said, smiling.

He turned to introduce me to his assistant, Ana, who seemed very friendly and overly helpful towards Josh.

“Mr. Singer, if you need anything, anything at all, please let me know.”

She was a small woman, probably in her late twenties. When she briefly lapsed into her native language to make a comment toward Ken, I tried to keep my features neutral.

“Ana will get you set up down the hall, Haylee. We have a space for you to make calls or set up your computer. Maybe you can join us on a tour of the office later this afternoon following lunch,” Ken offered.

I gave my thanks and, with one last look at my boss, followed Ana through the office.

“Have you worked for Mr. Singer long?” she inquired sweetly as she took me down the hall.

“Only a couple weeks.”

“Well, if you need anything, my extension is 5004. Dial 9 to get out for external calls.”

“Great. Thanks. What time is lunch? Do you need help with setup?”

She waved me off. “No, my dear, we have it under control. Matter of fact, you’ll be on your own, I’m afraid. You might try the sandwich shop downstairs.”

In the US it was customary to order extra for the assistants even if they weren’t eating with the executives, but perhaps it was different here. “All right, thanks. Uh, where’s the ladies’ room and the kitchen?”

She looked put out to have to extend our time together, but her manners must have kicked in. “Of course, let me show you.” She led me down the corridor and to the left, where I could see a number of desks, and finally into a large kitchen. “Water, coffee, sodas are here. And the ladies’ room is located two doors down.”

Another woman came in and was introduced to me as Patty. She smiled and then spoke with Ana in Cantonese, in which conversation Ana explained who I was.

It took everything in me not to react to Ana’s next words. She told Patty that I didn’t seem too bright, but it was obvious in looking at me that intelligence wasn’t why I’d been hired.

Patty shook her head a little and then smiled at me. “It was nice to meet you.” Well, at least Patty hadn’t wanted to join in.

“Anything else, or can I get back to work now?” Ana almost inserted enough false sweetness in the question to disguise the passive-aggressive comment.

“No, thank you, Ana. You’ve been most helpful.” Grabbing a Diet Coke from the refrigerator she’d shown me, I tried not to let my thoughts wander toward a fantasy of pitching it down the hallway at her head.

The rest of the morning was spent catching up on email and calling Nigel to coordinate Josh’s schedule for the next couple of weeks. I hesitated but then thought, what the hell. So I asked Nigel, “How are things on the personal front?”

He sighed heavily. “Did Josh tell you the details?”

“No, not at all, and I would never ask him. But from what you’ve alluded to, it’s health-related and obviously not yours. As someone who has been through it—both my parents had cancer—I want you to know that I’m here for you, Nigel.”

That seemed to break down his last defense. I heard his unsteady breath. “It’s stage three colon cancer. My partner, David, has been going through radiation and chemo, but we had to take a break because of the radiation burns. He started back up this week. Surgery to remove the tumor is set tentatively after Christmas, assuming we stay on course, followed by more chemo.”

Sighing, I thought of all the things well-meaning people had said to me that hadn’t helped. I decided to give support rather than mere sympathy. “Stage three and operable are the most positive things you said in that sentence even if it might not seem that way. Those words mean it’s beatable. I’ll definitely be thinking of you both.”

“Thank you. It means a lot, and I know you’re right. I need to keep thinking positive. How is Hong Kong?”

“It’s okay. I think that Josh will be held up in meetings all day, and then we have a cocktail party tonight.”

“Traveling overnight and then hitting the ground running is no fun,” he sympathized. “I don’t know how Josh does it so well.”

“I don’t know, either. At least I got some sleep on the plane, but I don’t think he even closed his eyes once.” It was a little unnerving now that I thought about it. I hadn’t once had a glimpse of the man sleeping.

“He’s an insomniac, but one who seems to function fine with it. Merely a couple hours a night, and he seems as fresh as anyone else who requires eight.”