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I did. I’d shot out of the bed and shouted something daft about not being into any gay stuff. I still cringed at my younger self.
“Yup.” I smiled into his kimono. “Then you gave me a lecture on bisexuality like it was extra credit I could add to my degree.”
“Indeed.” He lifted my chin so I was looking at him, then tapped me gently on my cheek. “You were never my mate after that. It was…you know…a friendship made in heaven.”
“Well, the part where you graphically described man-on-man sex over breakfast was kind of an eyeopener. How could I not be friends with you after that?”
“I’m brilliant.” Mark grinned. “And you fell head over heels in love with me.”
That’s when I sat myself up and boxed him in the shoulder.
“Idiot,” I muttered.
“Shhh!” he mouthed back. “Don’t wake Finn. He’s being a right grump. I know I’ve been a lot over the past week, but he…he doesn’t know how to deal with me when I’m unwell. Not like you do. He shouts at me and wants me to get up and eat and just be my normal self. I don’t even know how to be my normal self. Not right now.”
“Mate,” I said. He grimaced. “Mark, you’re way better this time than the last one. Don’t be so hard on yourself. One day at a time, yeah? No stress. No worrying about upsetting Finn. He’s been shocking at work—spilled coffee at the meeting on Friday, and his tie was the wrong way around. Label out and everything. So don’t think you’re the only disaster. Finn doesn’t function when you’re not there to hold him together.”
I meant that. Every word. Even though Finn might come across as an iceman with zero feelings and union rules coming out of his ears, his weakness was Mark, and Mark’s was Finn. They were two impossible men, as stubborn as each other, but they made sense together. They always had.
“And you?” Mark asked softly as if he could read my thoughts. “What’s going on in that big head of yours. Something happen today?”
“Tried to speak to that Hugo. Didn’t go well.”
“Hu-go.” Mark smiled, mocking my French accent. I hated him.
“It’s not like that, but something with him is off. He’s really bloody brilliant at his desk, but take him away from there, he’s…different. And not in a good way.”
“What did you do?” Trust him to put the blame on me. But he had a point. I’d once tried to flirt with a girl in accounts. She was stunning. Shiny brown hair, curves to die for. I’d made up some very clumsy prose to invite her todinner. She’d made a complaint against me for sexual harassment. To this day, I had no idea what had gone down in her mind, but Finn had handled it, and I had apologised profusely and never set foot anywhere near the accountancy office again. Also, I hated when Mark said I’d fallen in love with him. I’d never been in love with him. It was just a deep friendship, different from any other friendship I’d ever had, and I needed it like I needed oxygen.
“I don’t shit where I eat,” I snapped, picking up on Hugo’s brilliant line. I didn’t. Shouldn’t. It was good advice.
“Good plan.” Mark was still smiling. “Did you flirt with Hugo?”
“No!” I hissed. Finn was going to come stomping out of the bedroom any minute, shouting at me to keep my voice down.
“Then what?” Mark persisted.
“I offered him a slice of cheesecake. Highly offensive, I know. He refused my food. Wouldn’t have any dinner, and he hadn’t eaten all day.”
“And you know this because?”
“Because it’s my job!”
“It’s your job to keep an eye on our staff. Ensure they’re well and happy and motivated and suitably recognised for their efforts.”
“I’m a senior manager.”
“And Hugo is under Finn.” He didn’t say it to scold me, but he was riling me up enough that I’d spill the beans. It was an old trick of his.
“There’s something wrong,” I insisted.
“There isnothingwrong with Hugo. Or nothing that Finn isn’t aware of and dealing with. And if you even think of mentioning the crap on the floor around his desk…well, just leave it. Please.”
“Why?”
He put his fingertip on my lips. Shook his head.
Okay. For him to know and tell me another time when I got him drunk enough to spill company secrets and colleague gossip. Like him, I had my ways. Sadly, the glass of red I’d sorely needed was on the floor. I wasn’t going to even attempt to pour myself another one. And anyway, Mark didn’t drink when he was unwell.
