Cake at Midnight

by Jessie L. Star

  I shook my head, the low-key wariness I’d felt ever since I’d first seen him at the bus stop ratcheting up a few notches. ‘I know they were engaged and they broke up, but it’s not really our business–’

  ‘She’s a relationship manager. You know what that is?’ He spoke over me and, realising there was no stopping him, I shook my head again. ‘Well, it’s pretty much in the name: it’s dealing with people, getting them over to AHC’s side. If you’ve got a tricky client, you bring the relationship manager in to smooth things over. Vanessa’s amazing at it, the best there is, so she was the one sent to headhunt the famous Theodore McKillop from Jessop & King a couple of years ago.’

  We’d arrived at the sculpture now, and I sank onto my usual bench in front of it, my eyes never leaving Dec as he paced at the base of The Brother.

  ‘Killer’d just won the Aver Award, this trophy that basically meant that he’d sucked up to the right people at the right time, and everyone wanted him. I’d just got the job at AHC and I reckon I heard the name “McKillop” about ten times that first day, at least.’

  There was a bitter longing in his voice, proof, had I needed it, that Dec desperately wanted everything Theo had – the prestige, the name, the accolades – even though Theo himself seemed so ambivalent about them.

  ‘He said no to a job with AHC at first,’ Dec continued, ‘playing a game to get the best deal. And then there was a security breach at Jessop & King. A bunch of Bernard King’s, the CEO’s, emails were leaked, and you know what was in them? Message after message between Bernard, Christian Leichstein and Killer’s father.’

  It was obvious that this was supposed to be a big reveal, but it was lost on me. ‘What did they say?’

  ‘They said that Killer’s father had paid off Christian Leichstein to mentor his son, and that the both of them had then wined and dined Bernard into giving him a job way beyond his qualifications.’

  I still didn’t quite understand the significance until Dec sighed and said, ‘It was nepotism, Gio, plain and simple. Leichstein is a bloody god in this business and McKillop bought his favour, getting Leichstein to basically gift-wrap Killer’s first job for him with Jessop & King.’

  ‘McKillop?’

  ‘Alistair McKillop, Killer’s real dad. You must know him. All money, no personality – where do you think your mate gets it from?’

  ‘Hey!’ I said, but the protest was automatic, my brain much too busy processing what Dec had told me to mount any real defence of Theo. Nepotism. It was that word again, the one that had caused such a reaction in Theo’s family. Before I had time to do more than make this connection, however, Dec went on.

  ‘So everyone read the emails and found out that the great Theodore McKillop wasn’t actually all that great after all, he was just another rich kid with a rich daddy who’d paid his way to the top. All the job offers dried up pretty quickly after that and the next thing anyone knew, Vanessa and Killer were a couple. Bit convenient, don’t you reckon? Killer’s prospects fall and suddenly he’s sleeping with the headhunter who goes on to offer him the deal they’d been negotiating before the scandal? They got engaged and everything, trying to legitimise it. Then, big surprise, once he’s settled at AHC and has been promoted to a Sub-Manager position, Killer dumps Vanessa. So, yeah, I think he’s an arsehole, how could I not?’

  I was stunned. Stumped. Disbelieving. And Dec could tell.

  ‘Look, just because I don’t want, you know–’ He made an awkward sort of gesture between the two of us and I felt my face redden. I did know. ‘Doesn’t mean I don’t still love you. I just thought you should know what McKillop’s really like.’

  ‘I don’t think that is what he’s really like.’ I clung to that even as it echoed the way I’d refused to see the toxic side to Dec’s and my relationship when Zoë tried to point it out. And, like Zoë, Dec was clearly frustrated with me.

  ‘Seriously? McKillop’s cheated his way to the top. You hate those kind of guys, why are you defending him?’

  ‘I think there must be more to it,’ I said stubbornly.

  ‘Based on what? That he’s your neighbour? That for some unknown bloody reason he took you to his sister’s sculpture thing? And, yeah, what about that? His sister makes a sculpture for him–’ he pointed at The Brother, ‘–then pours her heart out about how much she loves him in front of everybody and what does he do? Stands there like he replaced the usual stick up his arse with a poker for the occasion. I know giving people the benefit of the doubt is pretty much your thing, but what the hell has he done to–’

  ‘We’re sleeping together,’ I blurted.

  There was a single, breath-holding, stomach-churning, second of silence and then Dec burst out laughing.

  ‘I’m being serious,’ he said, when he got his chuckles under control.

  ‘So am I.’

  ‘Baker!’

  ‘Brains!’

  He strode over to where I perched on the bench and leant down to stare into my face. My earnestness must have been clear as, after only a second or so, he retreated from me, backing up a couple of steps.

  ‘Shit, you are serious,’ he croaked. ‘What the? I just asked you and you said you weren’t.’

  I’d finally bitten a proper hole in my lip and I tasted coppery blood as I muttered, ‘I said we weren’t going out and we’re not. We, um, mostly stay in.’

  I’d expected him to be furious, and he was, but he also looked incredibly confused.

  ‘Meaning, what? You’re fuck buddies?’

  I could tell he’d wanted to shock me into a denial, but, although I preferred the ‘modern relationship’ euphemism, his description was essentially accurate so I gave an awkward little nod.

  Dec gaped at me, utterly bewildered, and then shook his head. ‘Nah, that’s crap. That’s not you, you’ve got more self-respect than that.’

  ‘It’s not about self-respect,’ I tried to explain, but he wasn’t hearing it.

  ‘Course it is, because that guy is always going to put himself first.’

  ‘Well, I’ve had plenty of experience with that.’ I’d always thought it’d feel freeing to just be out and out nasty, but it wasn’t, it made me feel sick to my stomach.

  Dec’s face seemed to get even whiter in the gloom, his whole body contracting with the effort it took for him to say, ‘I get that I was a jerk at the Allsopp party, but I’ve apologised for that and I don’t think the punishment I’m getting for it fits the crime. Thirty days of the silent treatment was bad enough, but now you’re having it off with a guy you know I don’t like, a guy you know single-handedly screwed my career. All because you think I friend-zoned you? That’s messed up.’

  Put that way it did sound messed up, but it also didn’t sound right.

  ‘Spending time with Theo isn’t about punishing you,’ I said, trying to sound calm and rational. ‘That’s not what any of this has been about.’

  He made a deeply sceptical noise and I clenched my fists to my sides, calm and rational going right out the window.

  ‘It’s not,’ I snapped. ‘For once in my life it’s about me. I’ve been using you as a . . . a crush crutch for years and now I’m just trying out spending some time with someone else.’

  ‘Nice metaphor,’ he said sarcastically, ‘but, in plain speak, what that actually sounds like is an ultimatum: be into me or I’ll dump you for the worst possible alternative.’

  ‘Oh, get over yourself!’ I jumped to my feet, planting myself before him, my curls practically rustling with anger.

  I could see the dozens of unspoken words seething beneath his surface, just as clearly as I felt them seething beneath mine. That was the thing about fighting with someone you knew down to their very core, sometimes they didn’t have to say mean things for you to know they were thinking them. Still, that we weren’t saying them was key. Neither of us wanted to say something that couldn’t be taken back and, out of respect for this, I let out a slow breath before I said slowly, ‘I’m not giving you a
n ultimatum.’

  ‘But you’re going to keep seeing Killer?’

  ‘Yes.’

  We were so close I could see his nostrils flare and his Adam’s apple bob a couple of times before he held up his hands in surrender.

  ‘Fine. You know what? Do what you want. Sorry about breaking your thirty-day thing, I thought you should know what kind of guy McKillop is, but apparently you don’t care, so I’m out.’

  He started to walk away, but had barely gone a couple of metres when he stopped and, without turning, asked, ‘You’ll be okay getting a lift, won’t you?’

  Yes, he sounded reluctant and, yes, he sounded resentful, but the fact that he couldn’t just leave without making sure I was right to get home still made me want to bawl.

  ‘Yes,’ I said, my throat tight.

  ‘Of course, you’re playing in the big leagues now. Lover boy will probably send his lackey to get you.’

  I doubted it. Everything I knew about Theo told me he’d be the one to come for me if I asked him to, but I was hardly going to tell Dec that. He hadn’t waited for my response anyway, and was already heading towards the street.

  As I watched him go, one part of me desperately wanted to run after him and hug him as he’d hugged me back at the bus stop, hug him so hard that he could feel that I just was as confused and angry and hurt as he was about where things stood between us. Another part of me, however, wanted to scream, ‘Go to hell!’ at his back, so, on balance, just letting him go seemed like the safest option.

  Once he was completely out of sight, I gave myself a little shake, as if I could jiggle off the negativity I felt, and pulled my phone out of my bag.

  I had a missed call and text from Theo and my bruised heart gave a feeble little bounce as I saw his name, conflicted as to whether seeing it made me feel good or guilty. I told myself that it didn’t matter which it was just now, I didn’t have room to worry about him right that second.

  Instead, I accessed my most-called contact and retreated to my ever-faithful bench.

  ‘Emerging from your love nest, are we?’ Zoë’s voice was amused as she answered, she was obviously expecting a completely different conversation from the one she was going to get. It only took one syllable for me to set her right.

  ‘Zo.’

  There was a pause and then I heard her sigh. ‘Great, that’s your conflicted-about-Dec voice. What’s the bastard done now?’

  ‘What’s going on with his dad?’

  Another pause, and then she snapped, ‘He’s supposed to be leaving you out of it. What am I saying? He’s Declan O’Connor, of course he broke his promise, why am I even surprised?’

  She was clearly building up to a full-fledged rant, but I got in before she could get onto too much of a roll, by asking quietly, ‘Just . . . what’s going on?’

  ‘Same thing as always. His dad got in a fight with some guy he was in the hostel with, got kicked out, got on the piss and went round to Dec’s mum’s to smash a few things up.’ Zoë spoke in the world-weary way of someone who’d seen it all before, which she had. The ‘in accommodation, on the wagon, going to sort myself out this time’ phases of Dec’s dad’s life were always followed by the ‘living on the streets, drinking heavily, a danger to himself and others’ phases. It wasn’t called a cycle of addiction for nothing.

  ‘And Dec’s mum?’

  ‘Came out of it with a few bruises, but nothing major. The neighbours called the police before he got properly going and he’s been AWOL ever since.’

  ‘And you know all this because?’

  ‘Because it’s all over the Jarli grapevine and you know my mum has a green thumb when it comes to that particular plant. She called me for the first time in – what? Eight months? – to see if I had any other juicy details for her. I didn’t, obviously, but I was worried Dec would’ve done his usual thing and immediately dumped it all on you so I went round to yours to check, and . . .’

  ‘And I was kissing Theo,’ I said ruefully.

  ‘Yeah. I could see you were moving on to bigger and better things, so I called Dec and told him that I’d help him find his dad, play your role, so long as he didn’t drag you into his mess like he usually does.’

  ‘You’ve been helping him?’ My voice was high with surprise, but hers was low with resignation.

  ‘Yep, calling the shelters, checking his usual hidey holes, hitting up his old buddies. It’s like muscle memory, it’s all come back.’

  God, no wonder Dec had been such a mess, his skin so thin – he was spending all day at work, then all evening searching for his dad, apparently alongside a reluctant Zoë.

  My throat felt tight again and I only managed to croak, ‘Zo–’ before she interrupted me sharply.

  ‘Just because we don’t talk about it doesn’t mean Dec or I have forgotten what you did for us growing up. Every extra lunch you brought to school, the spare uniform you kept in your locker, the excursions you said you didn’t want to go on so we weren’t the only ones left out, I remember all of it, and so does Dec. I’m just looking out for you now like you and your family always looked out for us.’ She spoke with an air of finality, clearly not wanting to linger too long over the point, so I swallowed my thanks.

  ‘You know Dec’s dad’s liver is shot,’ I said, instead. ‘Do we know if he has his medication with him?’

  ‘After all the crap he’s pulled? Who cares?’

  Zoë had more insight than most into the hows and whys of addiction, her mother couldn’t get through a day without rolling a succession of joints and had dabbled in harder stuff all of Zoë’s life, but she’d always been far from sympathetic of the sufferers. I kind of understood, she’d had to deal with way too much, way too young, but sometimes I thought she was a bit harsh.

  Clearly sensing my censure down the line, she said, ‘Seriously, we’ve got it in hand, you don’t need to worry about it. Let’s change the subject. How’s things with your Nod Next-Door?’

  ‘Good,’ I said vaguely, my thoughts still racing to solve Dec’s situation, running through my checklist of places to look for his dad and people to follow up with. ‘Have you tried that park off Gibson Street? He’s ended up there a couple of times.’

  ‘Gio, listen to me, I’m not talking to you about this.’

  ‘Yeah, okay.’ But worry still tugged at me, making me feel ragged around the edges, so I couldn’t help adding, ‘Go careful with Dec, yeah? I know that you guys have your issues, but this is bigger than that and he’s clearly on edge, so–’

  ‘So, how’s the sex?’ she asked over the top of me. ‘Or are you and Theo calling it “lovemaking” by now?’

  I finally succumbed to her not-so-subtle hints that she was after a topic change. Bundling the hurt, worry and anger up into a messy wad, I tried to push it to the back of my mind and say lightly, ‘Nope, it’s just sex. Modern, no-expectations sex.’

  ‘Modern sex?’ Zoë repeated. ‘I’m afraid to ask . . .’

  ‘Ha ha,’ I deadpanned. ‘We’re just not asking anything of each other, we’re keeping it light and . . . friendly.’

  ‘Friendly?’

  She sounded disappointed, so I relented and admitted, ‘The sex is pretty damn amazing.’

  ‘I knew it!’ she crowed. ‘I knew Theo’d have to have some outlet for all that repression.’

  I smiled and felt myself start to relax. ‘We were going to go out tonight,’ I admitted. ‘Like, actually out on a sort of date thing, I think.’

  ‘Were?’

  ‘I was talking to Theo about it when Dec showed up. And then . . . Dec said some things about Theo.’

  ‘What sort of things?’

  ‘That he ruined Dec’s career over one mistake and that Theo used nepotism and Vanessa to get his job with AHC.’

  There was a beat and then she asked, ‘Do you believe him?’

  ‘I think,’ I said slowly, ‘that there are probably nuances.’

  ‘A very diplomatic answer,’ Zoë said sardonically. ‘And
are you going to ask Theo about these “nuances”?’

  ‘I think I have to.’

  She sighed heavily, making the line go static for a moment. ‘I swear to god, Gio, if you give up fantastic sex because of Dec’s insecurities . . .’

  She didn’t bother adding a consequence, and she didn’t need to. I got the point.

  *

  Theo’d called Giovanna and sent her a text and that’s all he’d allow himself. She’d seen her friend and rung off, that was all, he wasn’t going to hound her. Still, he couldn’t figure out what his next move should be. Did he go home or wait for her to call him back? He’d had Ari make reservations for them at the current ‘it’ restaurant, but, given Giovanna’s radio silence, was he to assume their night was off?

  ‘Mr McKillop?’

  He automatically lifted his hand in farewell as he heard the voice, used to people calling goodbye as they left for the day. A couple of seconds later, however, when he realised that someone was still standing in the doorway, he raised his head.

  Ann, short and washed-out looking, smiled as he looked up at her, that nervous smile she’d worn around him ever since the ‘O’Connor Incident’, as Ari liked to call it.

  ‘It’s late, Ann, you go on and have a good night.’ He wasn’t sure he could’ve made the dismissal any clearer without being out and out rude, but still she hovered. Finally, after weeks of requesting to talk to him and accepting when he blew her off, it looked like Ann wasn’t taking no for an answer.

  Reluctantly turning his attention away from Giovanna and to his timid employee, he sat back from his desk. ‘Is there something I can do for you?’

  His eyes slid past her for a moment to focus on Ari who, although his fluid typing didn’t pause for a moment, was clearly listening. Not that Theo could count on him for a save; his assistant had made it more than clear that he thought Theo should stop ducking her requests to talk with him privately.

  ‘No, it’s just . . .’ Ann trailed off and Theo tried to make his expression encouraging.

  ‘Just?’ he prompted.

  ‘I think Vanessa’s been asking me to spy on you.’