Page 32 of The Refusal

“Great to see you all. Hopefully catch you later?” I say, and Janus rubs his hand round the back of his neck, body tight.

I grab Andy’s hand, dragging him away as fast as I can into the banqueting hall.

“What was that all about?”

I shake my head at him.

He stops, pulling me to a halt.

“Jo. What is going on? He looked furious.”

I stop and turn and stare at him, my gut roiling like a hurricane. “He was with a gorgeous woman. I’m his supplier. Why would he be mad?”

Andy puts his hands on his hips. “You tell me. You’re working with him, right?”

“It’s nothing,” I say, shrugging and moving down the aisle toward our table.

“Are you two playing some kind of game?” he says.

I shake my head. I don’t know what we’re doing. We’re racing forward then retreating like two armies trying to take a battlefield. I look down at the tremor in my hand.He goes out with women all the time. I need to calm the hell down and stop doing things that are going to land me in no end of trouble.

20

Janus

One a.m. The spreadsheets on my screen are more of a green-and-white blur than a coherent set of numbers. I toss back the rest of my whiskey and it burns all the way down, sourness and heat making my throat close. I want to drown out every thought, focus on what’s in front of me, but the alcohol is clouding everything. I tip the bottle on the table—how full was it when I started? Snapping the lid shut on my laptop, I pick up my glass and the bottle and kill the only light in the room. Swivels, my cat, stretches in the bean bag next to my desk, getting up and following me as I pad through to the quiet hum of the kitchen. It’s times like these I love Manhattan the best, with the dim glow of the kitchen cupboards and the glittering panorama of downtown spread out before me. Up this high, the clatter and honk of New York is a distant soundtrack.

What was I thinking, taking Aubrey this evening? I’d wanted to prove to myself that I could do what I used to do before: go out with a woman casually and have a nice relaxing night. I had no thought that Jo could be there, but of course it was obvious. She was inspecting us out of the corner of her eye, looking like a nymph in her naked lace dress; I think every man in the place was watching her. I swirl the ice in the glass, almost melted and gone, rattling against the edge.

She kissed him. My hands tighten around the tumbler. Of course she did. I place the glass in the sink and snag a beer from the fridge, moving over to the long windows along one side of the apartment. Unlocking the door, I step out onto the balcony, blocking Swivels exit with my foot. The cold makes my breath catch.

I spent most of my night trying to spot them at their table, much to Aubrey’s disgust: She wanted my attention on her and her alone. Eventually I found out he was from her old company—some guy named Andy—and they looked close. Of course they did. A soft sofa beckons and I sink down, resting my head on the back of the chair, staring up at the stars. We’ve not yet hit the warmer nights that start to creep through in spring and the bitter chill is seeping through my white cotton T-shirt, so I pad back inside to grab a coat and a blanket before heading back outside.

Slumped back down into the soft gray fabric, I turn my phone over in my hand and force myself to concentrate on something other than Jo Williams.

“I enjoyed our hack,” I type, hoping Fabian will be up.

The response comes through immediately. “Yep, like old times. Come over anytime.”

I’ve got to take Jo over there so we can try to put something on his system, but after seeing her last night with her boyfriend, spending a whole afternoon with her will be torture. I wish she was meeting Fabian in more honest circumstances. I just hope what we’re doing doesn’t ruin my friendship with him for all time.

“Can I bring someone next time?”

In seconds my phone is vibrating in my hand, and it pulls a reluctant grin out of me: I knew he wouldn’t let that go by. His laughing voice fills the line.

“How did I know that suggesting bringing someone to your lair would trigger a call?” I say before he can get a word in.

“Where are you?”

My voice slumps as I answer. “At home, working on spreadsheets.”

“God, man, I thought you had different flavors-of-the-week women to drag you away from all that shit.”

“Well …” I turn the beer in my hand, examining the label like it holds some previously unknown truth. “This person I want to bring round is a woman actually.”

“Seriously? What’s she do? No, let me guess … An actress? Model?”

“Nope, try something a bit closer to home.”

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