Page 91 of The Photograph

“They specifically asked for me? Holy crap.”

Heads are bowed over the desks on the other side of the glass walls of the meeting room. Of course, I’m ridiculously flattered. The idea that I’m so well regarded, and get on with them all so well, makes me warm inside. It’s never happened to me before. My personal life might be imploding, but my work life is taking off. I look at the blue wall James, Jo and I painted the weekend after we got the keys to the office. This is Jo’s business, but James and I have a good chunk of share options each.

“It could be great to have a satellite in the Far East,” James murmurs. Then he grins at me. “Well done, you. Despite everything, they clearly love you.”

I run my hands over my head. “I’m so openly gay, I thought there’d be more prejudice, that maybe it would be okay at first, but in time they’d ask for someone else to lead the team. Those guys out there”—I wave my hand at the staff in the office—“would welcome another boss.”

Jo tuts at me. “Only one or two of them think like that. The rest love you, Des.”

“The gay thing isn’t bad in Korea, is it?” James says.

“It’s nowhere near as open as it is here, but there are LGBTQ communities in Seoul.” I shake my head. “I can’t believe it.”

Jo examines her nails. “Do you want to go out there, Des?”

If you’d asked me before that awkward conversation with Alex yesterday, the answer would have been, hell no. But his hesitation and the desire to keep his family onside have made me wonder whether we can ever make this work. I don’t think he realizes that they are never going to accept that he is gay, never mind acknowledging me. He doesn’t seem to think we’ve split up, but if he backpedals on being out, where does it leave me? Us? And how can I ask him to give up that whole life I saw on Facebook forme?

This conversation with Jo and James has stopped me watching the clock and thinking about him. Burying myself inwork might even help. And setting up in another country? That would be more work than I’ve ever known.

“I might be interested if Des isn’t,” James murmurs. “I know I wouldn’t be the first choice but …” He tails off, and Jo makes a face at him.

My eyebrows rise. “What about Jane? Does she want to travel?”

“We split up,” he says, biting his lip.

“Whaaaaaattttt!” I shriek. Jo claps her hand over her mouth, and James groans, burying his face in his hands and rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms as he leans forward.

“You see this is why I didn’t tell you guys, you just …” He blows out a breath and tips his head back, blinking fast. “You’re just invested.”

“We’reinvested? I thought you were invested!”

James talks over me. “Also, I can’t talk about it without crying, clearly. Shit.” He stands, pushes back his chair, and disappears out of the room, weaving across the floor toward the bathroom.

“Oh myGod,” Jo says.

“Theysplit up? Noway. My faith in humankind is in tatters. They were the cutest couple.”

Jo nods at this, eyes suspiciously red.

“When did that happen?” I whisper, although why I’m whispering I have no idea. Goddammit, Jane and James were the best together, finishing one another’s sentences, getting drinks before the other person asked. Both quiet and studious, totally made for each other. Something hallowed has been torn right down the middle: it’s like I’m talking sotto voce because I’m in church.Church. Synagogue. Against God’s will. Ugh. My stomach curdles.

“I can’t believe it,” Jo whispers. “They were perfect.”

“Yeah.” What hope have the rest of us got iftheycan’t make it work?

“I love Jane,” she moans. “Please tell me this is some bad dream that I’m about to be rudely woken up from.”

James appears at the other end of the office, and as he approaches the glass cube, his eyes are rimmed red behind his glasses.

When he comes through the door he says, “Let’s talk about something else.”

“Okay, but I want the full story, Jimmy-boy. You’re not getting away with not giving me chapter and verse.”

He grimaces as Jo says, “Back to Samsung.”

Her pregnant belly sticks out over her trousers as she shifts in her chair. Jo’s put all her faith in me with this contract. Maybe leaving New York is what I need to cure me of the partying and the unreliable men for good. This city is just not conducive to stable, long-term relationships. It abounds with temptation. I came back from two months in Korea and fell straight back into things with George. When I’m here, it’s too easy to relapse. Perhaps a longer stint somewhere else would move me on. And the guys I met in Seoul were different—more serious and kinder. Maybe a radical change is the answer.

“Let me think about it,” I say. Am I really considering this as an option?

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