And the morning passed the way mornings pass when you are holding something carefully slowly in some places quickly and others with the specific texture of time that has meaning attached to it. At 11:30, James Okapor from the design team appeared at Malcolm's desk with a coffee and the expression of a man about to say something that was going to require diplomacy on both sides. James was 38, had worked at Caldwell Architecture Group for 6 years, and was one of the four people in the office Malcolm would genuinely call a friend. He set the coffee on the corner of the desk and said without preamble, "You went to the Caldwell family wedding this weekend." Malcolm looked up, "How do you know that?"
Because Denise in accounting saw you getting into the car Friday with Vanessa and she mentioned it to Pete and Pete mentioned it to me and I am now the designated person to ask you directly what is happening before the rumor version of it circulates. James sat down in the guest chair. So what is happening? Malcolm considered his options. He thought about what Vanessa had said on Sunday morning in the dark.
If something is real, I need it to be real all the way. He thought about the fact that James was a friend, not a rumor vector, and that the difference mattered. I went to her sister's wedding, Malcolm said, as her guest. James processed this carefully. As her guest, he repeated like a plus one guest or a as her partner.
Malcolm said, "It's new. We're figuring it out." James was quiet for the full 4 seconds, which for James was the equivalent of a long speechless pause. Then he said, "Malcolm, James, you understand that this is that people are going to I know what people are going to say." Malcolm said evenly, "I've thought about it.
Vanessa has thought about it. We're not performing anything for anyone. Whatever this is, it's real and we're handling it the right way." James looked at him. The assessing look of a friend who is deciding whether to warn you about something or trust that you've already seen it.
The power dynamic, he said she's your boss. I'm aware of who she is. It could complicate your position here, your review, your James. Malcolm held his gaze. I appreciate you, but I'm a grown man who has navigated harder things than office politics.
And Vanessa Caldwell is not the kind of person who confuses professional and personal in ways that hurt people. You know her work. James leaned back, looked at his coffee, then at Malcolm. Are you happy? He said, not rhetorically, like the answer actually mattered to him.
Malcolm thought about Sunday morning, about Monday after the brief, about Lily's diagnostic happy different assessment in his mother's kitchen. Yeah, he said. I am. James nodded once, picked up his coffee, stood. Then handle it right, he said.
Both of you. That's the plan. Malcolm said. James left. Malcolm turned back to the Kellerman brief.