Page 9 of Fake It 'til You Make It

Reluctantly, I open up my inbox through my cell phone and see the number of unread emails taunting me in bold. That’s a count of more than 300 since I walked into my partner’s office out of hours and found him screwing my fiancée.

I don’t know what irritates me more, the number of emails or the fact that Roman, my ex best friend, is going about our business as if nothing has happened.

Absolute shitbag.

We’ve been programming together since college. Inseparable for a decade. Seemingly those years of friendship have meant nothing to him. Certainly not more than sex.

I walk to the shelf, pick up another of Mike’s signed baseballs – Buster Posey – and throw it as hard as I can at the wall on the opposite side of the lounge.

Brilliant. Now I have a freaking hole in a wall to fix on top of everything else.

The holding responses I’ve sent to a couple of urgent emails have obviously triggered my assistant’s attention because her ringtone, designated specifically so that I know to take her calls, comes over the ridiculous home theatre speakers.

‘Mel, hi.’ I don’t say anything else because I don’t know what to say and I don’t know whether the rumor mill has yet started at the office. I’m a private person, a relatively quiet person, but I’m the brother of an MLB player, a partner of one of the fastest growing tech companies on the west coast, and my girlfriend is a model with a strong social media following. So, yeah, Mike is right, it’s only a matter of time until word gets out.

‘Ted, finally. I’ve been trying to reach you for two days; you’ve been completely off the grid. Where are you?’

‘Connectivity problem with my cell phone, sorry.’ Yep, the kind you have when you turn off your phone for two days. ‘So… what’s up?’

I’m pacing the floor of the lounge, speaking into the open space, waiting for her to cut to the chase and tell me everyone is talking about what happened, some shocked, some ridiculing me.

‘What’s up?’ I can hear confusion in her voice. I guess I’ve never just disappeared in all the time she’s been my assistant. In fact, I’ve never really taken a break from work since the inception of Vanguard RED Technologies. ‘Nobody knew where you were, Ted. Roman has had to step into your shoes for three of the meetings you had in your calendar.’

‘Yeah, well, Roman is very good at stepping into my shoes.’

‘I’m sure he is, but the people you were supposed to be meeting were disappointed with your absence, and we kind of need to know where you are.’

She isn’t wrong. Going AWOL is not only unlike me, it’s highly unprofessional, but, silly me, where was my head when I should’ve been thinking about my business and business partner? Oh, that’s right, it was replaying images of my business partner getting it on with my fiancée.

‘I know, and I’m going to be out for a few more days. But I’m back online now, so you can tell Roman…’ His name feels like dirt onmy tongue. ‘There’s no need for him to take over my role anymore.’

Mel is quiet for long seconds, until she asks, ‘Have you and Rome fallen out? Is this like that time he took the biggest office in the new building without asking you first?’

She doesn’t know. Ironically, Roman stealing something that was supposed to be mine is precisely what has happened, though on this occasion, it’s something less trivial than office space.

‘No, it’s not like that. Is there a specific reason you called?’ I need to spend some time working out responses to questions until I’m ready for my private life to become public news.

‘You have an interview withGQtomorrow; their writer is supposed to be coming to our offices. Will you be here? Are you even in the state?’

Crap.GQmagazine. I forgot about that.

‘Can we postpone?’

‘You’ve already postponed twice and it’s for the next edition.’

Double crap. It’s bad enough that the press seem to get any insight into my private life, without me having to give over the details myself. But this is an important interview for Vanguard, and until I know what I want from my business relationship with Roman going forward, I need to keep up appearances. Not least because, if it comes to it and we sell out, we need the business to be mentioned in publications as widespread asGQ.

‘Wait,GQhas an office in New York, right?’ I ask.

I hear Mel typing in the background, then she says, ‘Yes, they do.’

‘Great. Can you call them and tell them I can take the interview in New York? They can email me directly for the address.’

‘In New York? You’re in New York?’

‘Mel, could you do this for me without questions, please?’

‘Sure thing, boss.’

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