Archive of Our Own

EDWARD “BIFFY” BASSETT — LEGAL COUNSEL, PEOPLE & CULTURE

“Edward Bassett. But I go by Biffy, generally.”

“Why Biffy?”

“My brother. The relevant events are disputed, and he’s declined every reasonable offer to settle.”

Biffy adjusted his tie.

“I’m a solicitor. Employment and commercial work, principally. This is my first position in motorsport.”

“Are you a fan?”

“Very much. I had rather assumed that working in Formula One required some practical understanding of a car. Fortunately, they also need legal counsel.”

He smiled.

“I’m tremendously pleased to be here.”

Biffy had dressed for his first morning on the assumption that a racing team would appreciate efficiency. His suit was sober, his shoes polished, and his briefcase contained three pens, any one of which could have supported a modest legal practice.

The microphone and camera crew was unexpected.

He had accepted it because the woman holding it had said, “Just on your tie,” with the confidence of someone who did this every day.

By the time he thought to ask why, a man was adjusting a light beside his head.

BIFFY — LEGAL COUNSEL, PEOPLE & CULTURE

“I did wonder about the documentary.”

“It’s just for documentation.”

“Ah. Internal assurance?”

“Something like that.”

“Very sensible. Though I should like to know who receives the recordings.”

“We can get you the paperwork.”

“Splendid.”

Helen, his predecessor, appeared in the doorway carrying a box.

Biffy rose to greet her and was recalled to his chair by the microphone cable.

“Steady,” Helen said.

“Indeed. Still attached.”

He freed the cable.

She was wearing her coat. He found this faintly surprising at nine fifteen, but perhaps the promotion involved travel.

“Congratulations on the new role,” he said.

“Thank you.”

“An exciting opportunity?”

“Working from home.”

“Excellent.”

Biffy nodded, recognising a professional benefit when one was pointed out.

BIFFY — LEGAL COUNSEL, PEOPLE & CULTURE

“Helen seemed extremely pleased.”

He smiled.

“One likes to see hard work rewarded.”

His new office contained a desk, two visitor’s chairs and a blue folder with the contract inside. It was hefty to say the least.

Helen put her box down.

“Most of your work’s straightforward. Payroll queries, employment advice, internal disputes. Then there’s the supplementary agreement.”

“Driver development?”

She took a charger out of the wall.

“Both drivers are involved.”

“Joint technical work, then.”

“Uh, there’s a schedule.”

Biffy nodded and wrote joint technical work with schedule.

Helen watched him underline it.

“Please read it.”

“Absolutely.”

“In full.”

“Every clause and subclause. I may look like a chap who signs things to oblige a friend, but professionally I’m rather sound.”

“Good.”

Helen appeared reassured.

“Read it in full as soon as possible. Maybe a second time too. You need to know it in and out, quickly.”

“Anything else I ought to know? Unwritten rules, concealed pitfalls, chaps one oughtn’t to encourage?”

“Look out for Nico,” Helen said.

“Which category does he fall into?”

“Yes.”

Biffy waited for elaboration. Helen checked that her car keys were in her coat pocket.

“He’ll ask whether you’re flexible.”

“I like to think I’m amenable.”

“Don’t tell him that.”

“Right. A certain reserve.”

“And if he says I used to allow something, ask him to show you the email.”

“Sound evidential practice.”

“If he produces an email, read the whole chain.”

“Context being king.”

“If he says it would be quicker to explain in person, it won’t.”

Biffy made a note.

Helen watched his pen.

“What are you writing?”

“Nico. Exercise caution.”

She considered this.

“Underline it. Highlight it. That's your golden rule.”

He did.

“And Gabriel?”

“Oh, you’ll like Gabi.”

“Splendid.”

Biffy looked up. Helen had lifted her box.

“I really must go.”

“Of course. Wouldn’t want to detain you.”

“No,” she said. “You wouldn’t.”

He held the door for her.

At the threshold she paused, apparently moved by some final professional obligation.

“If they arrive together, keep the door open.”

“An informal atmosphere?”

“An available exit.”

Before Biffy could ask why he would need one from his own office, Helen took off like a shot down the hallway.

“Good luck!” She shouted.

“All right.” Biffy said as he waved.

He remained beside the door for a moment. It had been an unusually sporting farewell for an office handover.

Then he returned to his desk and opened the blue folder.

He had reached Definitions and Interpretation when somebody knocked on the doorframe.

“Edward?”

“Nico!” Biffy tried not to look too delighted by his appearance at his office door.

“You can call me Biffy.”

The man considered this and apparently decided against it.

“Uh. Come in.”

Nico came in and shut the door.

Biffy glanced at the handle.

“Would you mind leaving that open?”

“Why?”

“Still getting the lie of the land. Helps to see some of it.”

Nico opened it about six inches and sat down.

“Is Helen still here?”

“She’s not, I’m afraid.” Biffy shook his head. “Took off like an extremely sensitive racehorse.” 

“Okay,” Nico raised an eyebrow. “Has Helen explained the supplemental agreement then?”

“Just that I should read it. I’m about to acquaint myself with the particulars now.”

Nico ignored him.

“Good. I need a ruling.”

Biffy reached for his notebook.

“Then I should stress that anything I say before reviewing the terms will be provisional.”

“Fine.”

“What appears to be the trouble?”

“Gabi keeps leaving early.”

Biffy wrote early departure.

“Early in relation to what?”

“When I’m finished.”

“Had you agreed on a finish time?”

“Six.”

“And when did he leave?”

“Six.”

Biffy looked at the note, and then cocked his head.

“Punctual fellow, then.”

“I wasn’t finished.”

“Was he?”

“Yes, but that isn’t the point.”

“I suspect it may be adjacent to it.”

Nico leaned forward.

“I have to finish too. I have access throughout the working day.”

“So I gather.”

“No bookings. No separate requests. But once it gets to six, apparently I have to ask.”

Biffy turned to the contents page.

“Additional hours. Let’s have a look.”

He found the relevant clause and read it twice.

“Yes. Advance agreement from both parties.”

“He was already there.”

“A useful saving on travel, but not an extension of the arrangement.”

“I only needed a little longer.”

“Did he agree?”

“He said he had plans.”

"Hopped right off, then?“ Biffy squinted. "Then the answer would appear to have been no.”

Nico sat back.

Biffy felt a sudden chilliness in the air.

“I don’t think you understand,” Nico said.

“Entirely possible. I’ve been here all but twenty minutes.”

“He’s available to me all day. Then suddenly I’m supposed to negotiate?”

“Not suddenly. At six. It’s rather specific.”

Nico looked at the open contract. 

“Can that be changed?”

“By agreement.”

“With Gabi.”

“That would be the other party, yes.”

There was a silence.

Biffy glanced at his notebook. Above early departure, Helen’s instruction was visible.

Nico. EXERCISE CAUTION.

He added a second underline.

BIFFY — LEGAL COUNSEL, PEOPLE & CULTURE

“I thought hearing him out would be a neutral opening.”

He adjusted his tie.

“He seems to regard neutrality as a promising first offer.”

Nico changed tactics. He lifted one of his legs and put his ankle on his knee as he leaned back in the chair.

“I can see why they hired you.”

Biffy looked up.

“Can you?”

“You’re practical.”

“Within reason, what?”

“Helen could get a bit caught up in the wording.”

“An occupational hazard. We do spend rather a lot of time establishing which words go where.”

“Yes, but you understand what we’re trying to achieve.”

Biffy smiled politely.

Nico took this for progress.

“I don’t want to drag Gabi into a negotiation every time I need another twenty minutes. It makes the whole thing awkward.”

“Then I’d suggest asking for the additional time earlier.”

“You could just confirm that an existing session can run over briefly. Once everyone is finished.”

“Not under this clause.”

“A little discretion.”

“Gabi’s, certainly.”

Nico’s smile thinned.

Biffy had a round, obliging face and the air of a man who could be persuaded to hold a stranger’s luggage indefinitely. People consequently approached him expecting a spine with the structural properties of an éclair.

They were generally disappointed somewhere around their second request.

“I’m asking you to help me,” Nico said.

“And I’m explaining how you can obtain what you want.”

“By asking Gabi.”

“Exactly.” Biffy smiled. “I’m glad we sorted this.”

BIFFY — LEGAL COUNSEL, PEOPLE & CULTURE

“People sometimes assume I’m easily persuaded.”

"Are you?" The interviewer asked.

“I am easily persuaded to attend things. Christenings, charity auctions, dinners with somebody’s recently divorced cousin.”

A pause.

“The law is a rather more comfortable subject for me. One can point to a paragraph instead of inventing a prior engagement that someone could easily try and Google to verify the particulars.”

Nico leaned back and studied him.

“You’re a fan, aren’t you?”

“Of the sport? Very much.”

“We’ll have to get you to a race sometime. Show you around properly.”

“I’d be delighted.”

“I can arrange that.”

“How kind, what?”

Nico waited.

Biffy waited too, looking pleasantly receptive to the proposed retreat.

“So,” Nico said eventually. “About the flexibility.”

“Still requires Gabi’s agreement.”

Biffy added, “You needn’t arrange the race accomodations for me, of course.”

“I wasn’t offering it because—”

“No, naturally.”

The silence that followed was substantial enough to furnish a small room.

At last, Nico stood.

“I’ll speak to Gabi.”

“Excellent. Do let me know if there’s a genuine disagreement about the wording.”

Nico left without closing the door.

Biffy returned to his notebook.

Under Nico’s name, he wrote:

Understands provision. Dislikes provision.

Then, after a moment:

Paddock passes: uncertain.

Gabi arrived shortly before lunch, looking like a fellow who had been thoroughly put through his paces and had no quarrel with the exercise.

He leaned against the doorframe.

“Biffy?”

“I’m the very chap.”

Gabi smiled.

“Nico’s spoken to me.”

“I rather hoped he would.”

“He said you suggested I could agree to stay later.”

“Emphasis on the word could. He appears to have omitted much of the conversation.”

“I won’t be agreeing in those exact moments. It needs to be sufficiently requested in advance.”

“Sounds good.”

Biffy indicated the visitor’s chair.

Gabi lowered himself into it with an unhurried ease that made Biffy conscious of how rigidly he was sitting. He loosened one shoulder, found this unnatural, and tightened it again.

“The terms are clear,” Gabi said slowly. “He gets the whole working day. After that, he has to ask in advance.”

“Subject to the usual exclusions during working hours, yes.”

“And I can say no to those extra requests.”

“Without preparing a defence.”

Gabi settled further into the chair. There was a faint, persistent smile about his face, as though somebody had told him an excellent joke and he was still enjoying it.

“Because I didn’t need the additional time anyway. I've already reached the maximum overtime on—”

“Supplementary compensation?” Biffy interrupted. 

“On Tuesday.” Gabi finished.

“But today is?”

“Thursday? Yes.” Gabi shook his head.

“A successful start to the week then, what?” Biffy shrugged.

Gabi’s smile widened.

“I thought so.”

Biffy glanced at the remuneration schedule.

“He’d get the extra time, but you wouldn’t receive any additional payment.”

“Exactly. And I've already done plenty.”

“You don’t have to justify it to me. You shouldn’t be putting in more laps when you don’t need to.”

Gabi’s smile paused.

He squinted at Biffy.

“Laps?”

“Purely a matter of managing workload, what?”

Gabi looked at the blue folder.

“Have you read the contract?”

“Not in full. I’ve been… onboarding.”

BIFFY — LEGAL COUNSEL, PEOPLE & CULTURE

“There’s a great deal to cover when one joins an organisation.”

Earlier, Biffy was standing beside the Head of People, who was demonstrating a printer.

“You tap your pass here.”

“Splendid.”

“Then select your department.”

Biffy glanced around and then checked his watch.

“Would this be a convenient moment for me to duck out?”

“One more thing. It defaults to colour.”

Back in his office, Gabi was still looking at him.

“What do you think the supplemental agreement is for?”

“Additional driver-development duties.” Biffy said, as if it were obvious. “Joint sessions. Presumably some sort of support role.”

Gabi nodded slowly and closed his legs.

“Presumably.”

“Reading the precise scope is next on my list.”

Gabi lowered his eyes. His shoulders moved once as he tried to hold back what seemed to be a laugh.

“Something amusing?”

“No.”

Biffy waited.

“Nico said you understood what he needed.” Gabi snorted.

“Nico has a rather interesting interpretation of that conversation.”

That earned him a proper laugh.

Biffy smiled and realized it was a nice laugh.

“Well, he does.” 

Biffy played with the clip of his pen. 

“He really does.”

For a moment, Gabi studied him with a new interest.

“You’re very sweet.”

Biffy blinked.

“I’m not sure how that follows.”

“It doesn’t have to.”

He reached across the desk and turned Biffy’s notebook slightly towards himself.

“What’s this?”

Biffy glanced down.

“An aide-mémoire.”

Gabi read one of the entries aloud.

“Understands provision. Dislikes provision.”

“I wouldn’t normally share my notes.” Biffy pulled the notebook back. “It’s not a formal finding.”

The Head of People stopped outside the open door.

“Billy? Ready for the rest of the tour?”

"It's Biffy." He looked at the contract, then at his watch.

“How much remains?”

“Quite a bit. We haven’t done the kitchen.”

“I’ve encountered a kettle before.”

“This kitchen has a faucet that dispenses sparkling water.” The Head of People explained.

Gabi stood, still smiling.

“You’ll want to see that.” Gabi rolled his eyes.

“I’d rather like to finish reading this.” Biffy watched as Gabi slid past the Head of People and out into the hallway. 

“The contract will still be here when you get back,” the Head of People said. “Who likes reading things these days anyway?”

Biffy tried not to sigh as he picked up his staff pass.

GABRIEL — DRIVER

“He thinks it’s simulator work.”

Gabi laughed.

“He told me not to overdo it on the laps and that Nico needed to manage his own performance expectations. I’m literally dead.”

“Did that seem like a good point to explain it to him?”

“I think he needs to figure it out himself.”

At five o’clock, Biffy returned to his desk with a printed version of the staff handbook which was uploaded to Workday, a reusable water bottle and a very in depth knowledge of three evacuation routes.

The contract remained where he had left it.

He shut the door and locked it.

Lowered the blinds.

Put his phone on Do Not Disturb.

Then he opened the folder with the determination of a man who had been shown quite enough of the kitchen appliances.

“No more preliminary cantering,” he murmured.

He skipped ahead.

The operative provisions referred him to a defined term.

He found it.

Read it.

Moved his finger to the beginning of the sentence and followed it across the page, in case his eyes had taken some extreme liberties.

“Oh.”

He read the next paragraph.

His mouth opened.

Nothing emerged.

Biffy removed his glasses and looked at them. They appeared to be operating normally.

He put them back on.

The provision was still there.

“Good God.”

He turned a page.

Then turned it back so sharply that the paper made a noise like a small animal objecting to handling.

“No.”

He checked the cover.

The title.

The parties.

Both signatures.

There was even a witness.

Biffy leaned away from the desk.

For several seconds he regarded the folder with the wary attention usually reserved for a wasp in a compartment coach.

Then memories began returning.

You shouldn’t be putting in more laps when you don’t need to.

Laps?

His eyes closed.

He made a low, involuntary sound.

“Oh, you absolute—”

He stopped, stood, sat down to retrieve the page he needed, and stood again.

BIFFY — LEGAL COUNSEL, PEOPLE & CULTURE

“I've now reached the particulars.”

He nodded.

“They were extremely particular.”

The Head of People was putting on his coat when Biffy appeared.

“What in the blazed, blasted blast is this?”

He held the folder open.

The Head of People glanced at it.

“Ah.”

“No. ‘ah’. I did all the ‘ah’-ing about ten minutes ago.”

“Come in.”

“I rather think I shall.”

Biffy entered and placed the folder on the desk. Its arrival disturbed a bowl of complimentary mints.

“Have you read this?”

“Yes.”

“In the ordinary sense of understanding the words?”

“Biffy—”

“Because I’ve spent the afternoon advising these people on the assumption that they were doing something with a simulator.”

The Head of People lowered his coat.

“I thought Helen had explained.”

“Helen advised me to read the contract. You then took me to see a dishwasher.”

“You need to know where things are.”

“I would have preferred to know what things were.” Biffy said as he lifted the blue folder again.

The Head of People glanced towards the camera.

Biffy followed his gaze.

“Yes. They’ve had a splendid day too.”

“Let’s sit down.”

Biffy pushed the folder across the desk, opened it, and tapped the definition.

“Who approved that?”

“It went through the appropriate channels.”

“Which channels? Names, please.”

“There’s supporting advice.”

“Then I’d like to see it.”

“Of course.”

“And the original offer letters. Both of them.”

The Head of People opened his laptop.

Biffy waited, breathing rather more deliberately now.

After a moment, he added, “And I should like somebody to explain why I learned more about the sparkling water tap than the principal agreement I was hired to oversee.”

BIFFY — LEGAL COUNSEL, PEOPLE & CULTURE

“I may have raised my voice, but I don’t believe I was acting unreasonably.”

A pause.

“I did say ‘blast’ twice, though. I believe that was too far. I was caught up in the moment.”

The Head of People took a mint, unwrapped it, and put it in his mouth. 

“Isn’t this extremely risky?” Biffy asked.

“There’s a reputational element.”

“A reputational element?”

“Which is why we keep it internal. Everyone, including you, has signed confidentiality agreements or whatever.”

“Or whatever. How industrious of us.”

He turned the contract towards himself.

“Leaving aside the possibility of anybody finding out, has anyone considered whether we ought to be doing it in the first place?”

“They’re both adults.”

“Yes. So are most plaintiffs.”

The Head of People smiled, apparently taking this as professional banter.

“Gabi’s very happy.”

“Have you asked him?”

“He negotiated an excellent package.”

“That wasn’t my question.”

“He has independent representation.”

“I’d like their details.”

“I’ll have someone send them over.”

Biffy waited while the Head of People checked a notification.

Nothing in his manner suggested that the afternoon had departed from its expected course. Biffy might have brought him a query about bicycle storage.

“And Nico?” Biffy asked.

“What about him?”

“Does he understand the possible consequences?”

“He was quite insistent.”

“I’m discovering that insistence enjoys rather an elevated status here.”

The Head of People set his phone down.

“Look, this is an unusual working environment. There are personalities to manage.”

“Then manage them, what?”

A brief silence followed.

The Head of People reached for another mint.

“That’s why we hired you.”

Biffy looked at him.

“To administer the agreement and help everyone work constructively within it.” The Head of People continued. “Not to determine whether it should exist.”

Biffy made a note.

The Head of People watched him.

“I don’t want you feeling overwhelmed on your first day.”

“How kind.”

“There’s no need to solve everything this evening.”

“No. But I would like to establish whether this is a problem we’re solving or a problem we’re merely nursing.”

“We haven’t had a formal complaint.”

Biffy’s pen stopped.

Then he drew a line beneath what he had written.

BIFFY — LEGAL COUNSEL, PEOPLE & CULTURE

“I was beginning to see why Helen had bolted from the office."

The following morning, Biffy invited Gabi to his office.

He would speak to Nico eventually. There was no particular reason to begin with him, and several reasons to begin with somebody who did not sit down as though taking possession of the furniture.

BIFFY — LEGAL COUNSEL, PEOPLE & CULTURE

“Nico has a rather forceful manner.”

A pause.

“I’m not intimidated professionally. I can disagree with him quite comfortably.”

“Personally?”

“At this time, I’d prefer not to ask about anything of the sort.”

Gabi arrived twelve minutes late.

“Sorry. I was with Nico.”

“Uh-huh.” Biffy bit his lip and looked down at his notebook.

Gabi sat.

For a moment, the only sound was Biffy aligning his pen with the margin.

“You’ve read it…” Gabi said.

“Yes.”

“All of it?”

“Quite enough to regret several remarks I made yesterday.”

Gabi’s mouth twitched.

Biffy looked up.

“I would be grateful if we could allow those to pass into obscurity.”

“Of course.”

“Without quoting them to Nico.”

Gabi’s smile faded a fraction.

“Ah.”

“You already have.”

“He thought the bit about me ‘hopping off’ was very funny.”

Biffy turned to a fresh page.

“First, I owe you two an apology. I advised you before becoming acquainted with the scope of the agreement. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“You were right about what you told Nico though.”

“Yes. Mercifully, that provision did not need the context of a full reading.”

Gabi laughed.

Biffy almost smiled, then caught himself.

“I’d like to ask you some questions. You needn’t answer immediately, and I’m not your solicitor. I act for the team.”

“I know.”

“I’d nevertheless like to establish how the arrangement works from your perspective.”

“Okay.”

“Do you feel able to refuse Nico?”

“After six?”

“At any time.”

Gabi shifted in the chair.

“Are you trying to get us into trouble?”

“No.”

“Nico thinks you are.”

Biffy shook his head and set his pen down.

“When you said you were with him just now, did you mean you’d chosen to be?”

“No. Nico did. That’s how it works.”

“What?”

“During working hours—”

“Yes. I keep hearing about these working hours.”

Gabi smiled faintly.

“You can ask me things directly, you know.”

“I’m working up to it.”

“You’re very polite.”

“It’s proving a considerable impediment.”

Gabi laughed.

Biffy looked down at the contract, hoping that familiarity might have rendered it less astonishing overnight. It had not.

“So he simply comes, finds you, and…”

“Usually.”

“And you go with him and…”

“Yes.”

“Good Lord.”

Gabi waited.

He found the remuneration schedule.

“And the team pays you.”

“Yes.”

“Through payroll.”

“Yes.”

“What does it say on your payslip?”

“Supplementary duties.”

“Naturally. Could mean anything from that to arranging chairs.” Biffy said to himself.

Biffy adjusted his glasses and rubbed his forehead.

“Is this paid per occasion?”

“Not during the day. That’s covered by the retainer.”

“The retainer.”

“Every month.”

“Yes. I see it.”

He had seen it yesterday too. It had seemed an entirely excessive number before Biffy understood it’s true purpose.

“Outside working hours, I have to agree to what Nico asks for,” Gabi continued. “Then it counts towards the supplementary payment. Evenings count more. Non-race weekends count even more.”

“Until you reach the weekly maximum.”

“Yes.”

“After which any further time attracts no additional compensation.”

“Exactly.”

“So yesterday—”

“I didn’t need the hours.”

Biffy turned another page.

“And how is the time recorded?”

“I submit it. Nico confirms.”

“And if you disagree?”

“We come here.”

“Yes. I’m beginning to understand the need for the visitor chairs.”

He put his pen down.

“Forgive me. Does he stop whatever you’re doing?”

“Depends what I’m doing. Driving takes priority. Medical. Engineering commitments.”

“And lunch?”

“Lunch is movable, so.”

Biffy looked up.

“If I’m eating, I finish.”

“Thank heaven for that.”

Biffy took off his glasses again. Clearly he developed a nervous tick.

Gabi watched him clean lenses that were already perfectly clean.

“You really didn’t know.”

“No.”

“I thought Helen would have told you.”

“Helen supplied the folder and departed at a speed I now consider entirely explicable.”

Gabi laughed again.

Biffy put his glasses back on.

“And you’re happy with this?”

“Yes.”

“All of it?”

“The arrangement, yes. Nico can be annoying.”

“In what respect?”

“He thinks because I like it, I shouldn’t mind all of his whims outside the hours.”

BIFFY — LEGAL COUNSEL, PEOPLE & CULTURE

“I’d intended to establish the facts.”

He paused.

“So many arrived together. I’m afraid there was a queue for my understanding.”

GABRIEL — DRIVER

“He’s adorable.”

Gabi smiled.

“He talks funny. So British. I told him something and he said, ‘Good heavens,’ then apologized for interrupting.”

“What did you tell him?”

“Everything. I had to explain ‘free use’ to him and I thought he was going to faint like a Victorian woman.”

He shifted in his chair.

“He gets embarrassed, but he keeps going. Very brave.”

“Do you think he’s going to do a good job?”

“Yes, and he’s adorable. So he gets extra points.”

Gabi’s smile widened.

“I’d like to take him somewhere he can relax. Maybe get him high or something.”

“Where?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“What would Nico think?”

“I already know what he thinks. He’s already started calling him Edward.”

It took two days to get Nico into his office.

The first invitation was declined without comment. The second received a proposed new time at which Biffy was already meeting with Finance. Clearly, Nico didn’t know how to use the Scheduler feature. When Biffy offered three alternatives in a Teams message, Nico replied:

Is this about Gabi?

Biffy answered:

It concerns the supplementary agreement.

Nico arrived eleven minutes early.

“Has Gabi agreed?”

“To what?”

“The buffer time.”

“No. That wasn’t the purpose of my invitation.”

Nico’s expression lost some of its warmth.

Biffy moved the blue folder between them.

“I’ve now read the agreement in full.”

“Good.”

“Yes.”

“So you understand.”

“I understand what the document says. I’d like to understand how you believe it operates.”

Nico glanced towards the camera.

“Is this necessary?”

“The meeting? Very much.”

“The camera.”

“I’ve been asking about that myself. We may yet receive an answer.”

Biffy opened his notebook.

“For now, could you describe what you consider yourself entitled to as per the supplemental agreement?”

“During working hours?”

“Let’s begin there.”

“Gabi.”

Biffy’s pen remained above the page.

“Could you expand on that?”

“He’s available to me. Subject to his driving commitments.”

“And the other exclusions.”

“Yes.” Nico rolled his eyes.

“Do you ask?”

Nico looked faintly puzzled.

“I tell him what I want.”

“And if he doesn’t want to comply?”

“He will.”

“On every occasion?”

“Do you not understand the definition of ‘free use'?” Nico said, annoyed.

“I’m asking what would happen if he didn’t.”

Nico shifted in the chair.

“What has Gabi been saying?”

“Nothing, it’s something I’m—”

“Because he was perfectly happy this morning.” Nico cut him off. 

Biffy looked down at the notebook.

He had begun to suspect that every inquiry would be met with a recent bulletin.

“I’m pleased to hear it,” he said. “Nevertheless—”

Nico leaned back.

“If he has a problem, he can say so.”

“And that would be the end of the matter?”

“Yes.”

Biffy wrote down the answer.

Nico watched.

“What are you writing?”

“My notes.”

Nico sighed. 

“Look. Gabi likes being told what to do.”

“Unfortunatley, he’s told me that.”

“Then I don’t understand the issue.”

“I’m trying to establish whether he has a choice when he doesn’t.”

“He can come to you.”

“But it sounds like you’re implying that he can only make a complaint after what he doesn’t want to happen happens.”

Nico’s gaze moved to the notebook again.

“You’re making this sound rather sinister.”

“I’m merely asking you to explain this to me. I’m new.”

Nico adjusted his watch.

“I’ve got a session in twenty minutes.”

“Then we have time for another question.”

“What?”

“Who first proposed the arrangement?”

Nico looked almost relieved.

“I did.”

Biffy turned to a clean page.

NICO — DRIVER

“Gabi’s clearly taken a liking to Edward. He keeps going to his office.”

“About the agreement?”

“He knows the agreement.”

“Perhaps he likes talking to Biffy.”

“Edward,” Nico said, “has other work to do.”

Nico rolled his eyes.

“Since Edward arrived, Gabi’s become very particular about six o’clock.”

“Wasn’t six always the finish time?”

He ignored the question.

“I ask whether he’ll come over. He says he’ll check. Then apparently he’s spoken to Edward.”

“About coming over?”

“About whether he has to.”

“Does he?”

“No, but I’d like him to.”

A brief silence.

“Have you told him that?”

“I keep asking him over. We could have dinner. Watch something. He doesn’t have to leave the moment we’re finished.”

“Have you said that?”

“Yes and he asks whether I want to book the evening or he tells me he has enough hours.”

“Have you had lunch?”

Biffy looked up.

Gabi was standing in his doorway without a folder, a phone or any other visible instrument of business.

“Not yet.”

“Come with me.”

Biffy glanced at his screen.

“I ought to finish—”

“You can finish afterwards.”

A sound proposition. Almost suspiciously free of qualifications.

“Where were you thinking?”

“Canteen.”

“Excellent. I know where that is. I received quite a comprehensive briefing.”

Gabi chose a table by the windows.

Biffy put his lunch down opposite him.

“Is there something you wanted to discuss?” Biffy smiled.

“Some sort of casual conversation.”

Gabi smiled.

“You can relax.” He said.

“I’m afraid that’s generally a process rather than a command that can be freely executed.”

He unfolded his napkin.

For several minutes, it was surprisingly easy. Gabi asked where he had worked before joining the team. Biffy explained. Gabi wanted to know whether he had always intended to be a lawyer.

“No. There was a period when I hoped to be an engineer.”

“What happened?”

“I discovered engineering involved considerably more mathematics than admiring the things you made.”

Gabi laughed.

Biffy found himself beginning an anecdote about his first encounter with a transfer function.

Then Gabi’s eyes moved past his shoulder.

A body descended beside Biffy’s.

“Anyone sitting here?”

Nico was already sitting.

Biffy moved his elbow.

“Not until recently.” Biffy smiled awkwardly. 

Gabi looked at the three empty seats beside him.

“You could have sat here.” Gabi said.

“I’m here now.” Nico said glaring at Biffy.

“Yes. I can see.”

Nico glanced at Biffy’s plate.

“Good?”

“You can sit there. You’re a little close, but you smell nice.”

Gabi covered his mouth with his napkin.

”I was asking about the food.” 

“Oh, right, it’s fine.”

Nico ignored Biffy and turned directly to Gabi.

“Are you coming over tonight?”

Gabi lowered the napkin.

“I haven’t decided.”

“I could order from that place you like.”

“That really narrows it down.”

“The Japanese.”

“I like several Japanese places.”

“The one we had on Tuesday.”

“We had Italian on Tuesday.”

“Last Tuesday.”

“I was at home last Tuesday.”

Biffy became extremely interested in his lunch.

Nico took out his phone.

“I’ll find it.”

“You don’t need to.”

“It’s in the order history.”

“Nico.”

“What?”

“I’m having lunch.”

“So am I.” However Nico motioned to the empty table in front of him which proved otherwise.

“With Biffy.”

Nico looked at him.

“Edward doesn’t mind.”

Biffy swallowed.

“Edward is beginning to feel rather rashly represented.” Biffy said. 

Gabi laughed as Nico rolled his eyes.

“Fine. What were you discussing?” Nico asked.

“Math,” Gabi said.

Nico looked between them.

“Why?”

“I’d been asked a question,” Biffy smiled. “It happens outside my office as well.”

Nico turned to Gabi again.

“You could just come for dinner.”

“I know.”

“No need to make a full evening of it.”

“Alright.”

Nico brightened.

“Alright, you’ll come?”

“Alright, there’s no need to make an evening.”

Gabi smiled.

Biffy reached for his water.

Gabi turned back to him.

“You were telling me about transfer functions.”

“Oh. Yes. I don’t really remember how they work anymore but—”

Nico shifted beside him.

“Alright. We’re out.”

He briefly listened to the conversation. As far as he was concerned, he had now contributed handsomely to lunch.

Gabi looked up.

“Out where?”

“With me.”

“I’m eating.”

“You’ve finished.”

“I’m resting between courses.”

Nico stood, came around the table and gripped Gabi’s shoulder.

“Come on.”

Gabi allowed himself to be pulled to his feet, though with the air of a man being removed from a place of worship.

“My trays,” he said.

“Edward can handle it.”

Biffy looked up.

“Can he?”

Nico was already steering Gabi away.

Gabi turned back, reaching mournfully towards the table.

“My yogurt.”

Biffy picked up the unopened pot and held it out.

Gabi extended a hand.

Nico stopped Gabi just beyond Biffy’s reach.

For a moment, all three remained in position.

Then Biffy put the yogurt down.

“I’m afraid I don’t offer table service, Nico.”

Gabi laughed.

Nico looked at him, then at Gabi’s trays.

“Fine.”

He released Gabi, returned to the table and collected the trays himself.

Gabi retrieved his yogurt. 

“Thank you, Biffy.”

Nico carried the tray towards the return station.

Gabi lingered.

From across the canteen, Nico called his name.

Gabi smiled, lifted the yogurt in farewell and followed.

Biffy sensed a certain sigh of relief fall over the room.

Biffy had heard from both parties involved in the agreement.

It occurred to him that there were rather more than two parties obliged to work in the very same building.

He began speaking with Facilities.

“How do you feel about the arrangement?”

“It’s awful.”

Biffy uncapped his pen.

“In what respect?”

The facilities manager looked at him.

“Would you like a list?”

“Yes, please.”

She opened a drawer and pulled out her own notebook. 

The conversation, which used her record of incidents as a guide, was far reaching. 

“Nico understands there are designated areas?” Biffy asked.

“He understands there are two places expressly prohibited.”

“Which are?”

“The factory floor. That would be an OSHA violation. And the C-suite conference room because they don’t want this to be their problem.”

“And the other rooms?”

“If they’re unlocked, Nico uses them.”

“Regardless of an existing booking?”

“Regardless.”

Biffy wrote that down.

Reception had the same opinion, with different supporting evidence.

“It’s awful.”

“Have they caused difficulties for visitors?”

“I’ve had to tell a supplier that the meeting room was temporarily unavailable and he’d have to wait.”

“What did he say?”

“He asked whether he could wait outside the room.”

“And?”

“I took him to see the sparkling-water tap.”

Biffy looked up slowly.

“A versatile installation, what?”

In Engineering, he found a man eating a sandwich beside his desk.

“How do you feel about the Nico and Gabi situation?”

“It’s fucking awful.”

Biffy sat down.

“Would you care to expand?”

“I’d care to finish a simulator session without Nico looking through the glass.”

“Does he interrupt?”

“He stands there. Menacingly.”

“Which is distracting.”

“He taps his watch.”

“Good Lord.”

“Gabi shakes his head, luckily he knows the rules. Driving time is off limits.”

The engineer took another mournful bite.

BIFFY — LEGAL COUNSEL, PEOPLE & CULTURE

“I’d anticipated a range of views.”

He consulted his notes.

“There have merely been variations in delivery.”

At the coffee machine, he approached two members of the design team.

“I’m speaking to staff about how Nico and Gabi’s activities affect their working day.”

“It’s a nightmare,” said one.

“You never know when they’re just going to start,” said the other. “Or when you might accidentally walk in on them.”

Biffy wrote steadily.

“And do you feel able to raise these concerns?”

“We’ve been told they’re both happy.”

Biffy frowned. 

“That answer does seem to travel.”

By four o’clock, his notebook contained eleven versions of the same assessment.

Nobody had objected to Gabi’s compensation. Nobody appeared especially interested in what either driver enjoyed. They wanted access to the rooms they had booked, meetings that finished on time, and the ability to open a door without first conducting reconnaissance like a member of MI5.

Biffy returned to the Head of People.

“I’ve spoken to the staff.”

“Useful?”

“Yes, and remarkably consistent.”

“What?”

“They think the arrangement is awful for office moral and it disturbs their work.”

The Head of People frowned.

“All of them?”

Biffy nodded.

“Well. We can’t please everybody.”

Biffy opened his notebook.

“At present, we appear to be only pleasing Nico and occasionally Gabi.”

The Head of People laughed. 

“How do you handle HR complaints?” Biffy asked. “Because there appears to be something of a backlog.”

“We have none.”

“What?”

“No outstanding complaints.”

“I’ve spent the morning speaking to people who can scarcely finish a sentence without producing enough evidence to write one.”

“None we need to act on,” the Head of People clarified.

Biffy rubbed his temple.

“How was that distinction arrived at?”

“It’s all covered by company policy.”

“The arrangement.”

“Yes.”

“So if somebody complains about the arrangement—”

“We explain the policy.”

“And if the policy is what they’re complaining about?”

The Head of People looked at him with the patient expression of a man being asked where to find something already in plain sight.

“They’re welcome to raise a concern.”

“With whom?”

“Us.”

“And you explain the policy.”

“Exactly.”

Biffy lowered his hand.

“I see. A closed circuit.”

The Head of People opened a spreadsheet.

“We log everything.”

“May I see?”

He turned the monitor.

Biffy leaned forward.

There were dates, names and summaries. The final column contained a long succession of green cells.

RESOLVED — POLICY CLARIFIED.

“Did the complainants consider these resolved?”

“No one’s escalated.”

“To whom would they escalate?”

“Their manager.”

“And then?”

“HR.”

Biffy sat back.

For a moment, he studied the ceiling, which offered no route out of the conversation.

“I should like copies of these.”

“All of them?”

“Yes.”

“Some are quite repetitive.”

“That’s not a problem.”

Gabi began finding reasons to visit.

Some were excellent reasons. There was a discrepancy in his supplementary payment. A booking had been entered against the wrong date. Nico had again interpreted silence as agreement for more time past six.

Others required rather more examination.

“Does this shirt suit me?”

Biffy looked up.

“I beg your pardon?”

“The color.”

“It seems perfectly serviceable.”

“Serviceable.”

“I’m afraid I’ve disappointed you.”

“No. I’m going to tell people I look serviceable.”

Gabi leaned over the desk to inspect Biffy’s mug.

“Still warm?”

“Possibly.”

“I’ll get you another.”

“You needn’t.”

“I know.”

He took the mug anyway.

Biffy watched him leave, then became aware of the camera.

GABRIEL — DRIVER

“He said I looked perfectly serviceable.”

Gabi smiled.

“I’ve been called worse by people trying considerably harder.”

By Thursday, Gabi knew how Biffy took his coffee.

By Friday, he knew which biscuits he preferred.

On Monday, he reached across the desk and straightened Biffy’s tie.

“There.”

Biffy forgot the second half of the sentence he had been speaking.

“Was something wrong with it?”

“It was crooked.”

“Ah.”

“It’s nice.”

“Thank you. My mother chose it.”

Gabi smiled.

Biffy could not immediately establish whether this had improved or diminished his position in Gabi’s mind. 

BIFFY — LEGAL COUNSEL, PEOPLE & CULTURE

“He’s very friendly.”

“Do you think he’s flirting?”

Biffy adjusted the tie, which had received more attention that morning than in its previous four years of service.

“I’ve considered it.”

“Would you reciprocate?”

“Er. I don’t know that it would be prudent.”

A pause.

“Although prudence appears to be exercised on a very infrequent basis here.”

“What do you mean?”

“I did consider consulting HR.”

He looked towards the corridor.

“I haven’t yet located the functioning portion.”

Nico’s first interruption was brief.

“I’ve been looking for you.”

Gabi turned in the visitor’s chair.

“Here I am.”

“We’re due downstairs for a meeting.”

“In twenty minutes.”

“Then we’ll be early.”

He took Gabi by the shoulder and steered him towards the door.

Gabi looked back.

“Thanks for the coffee, Biffy.”

“You brought—”

They were gone.

The second time, Nico claimed there was a call.

“Who with?” Gabi asked.

“People.”

“Specific people?”

“Come on.”

The third time, Gabi had barely sat down before Nico appeared.

Biffy checked the corridor after they left.

He had begun to wonder whether the visitor’s chair was connected to an alarm.

NICO — DRIVER

“Yes. I’m angry.”

“With Biffy?”

“Edward.”

“Why?”

“Because Gabi’s flirting with him.”

“Have you spoken to Gabi?”

“Yes.”

“What did he say?”

“That Edward listens.”

Nico folded his arms.

“He’s got nothing else to do than work out our problems with the contract.” 

Biffy did have other things to do.

He was doing one of them when Gabi arrived on Tuesday carrying two coffees.

“Do you have a query?”

“No query today,” Gabi giggled. 

Gabi stayed by the door for a moment, looking down the corridor.

Then he came in.

Biffy noticed.

He also noticed that Gabi had chosen the chair closer to the door, and that his account of a perfectly ordinary morning acquired considerable animation and a tone loud enough to travel when footsteps approached.

“You should have seen Nico’s face,” Gabi said.

“I’m beginning to feel I’ve seen rather a lot of it.”

Gabi laughed.

Nico appeared.

Of course he did.

“What’s funny?”

“Biffy.”

Nico looked at him.

Biffy felt an unexpected pang of sympathy for the fish he had once kept as a boy. It, too, had spent its days being regarded through glass without anything meaningful to say to those who merely approached to tap on the glass.

“Was there something you needed?” He asked.

“I was looking for Gabi.”

“Well found.” Biffy laughed. 

Gabi laughed too.

Nico came around the chair.

“Come on.”

“I’m having coffee.”

“You’ve been having coffee all morning.”

“I’m very tired.”

Biffy looked from Gabi’s delighted expression to Nico’s tightened mouth.

“Oh,” he said quietly.

Neither noticed.

Nico bent towards Gabi. Gabi caught his sleeve, smiling, as Nico pulled him aggressively into a kiss.

Biffy set his pen down.

“Enough!”

They separated.

He didn’t shout very loudly. Biffy nevertheless found it gratifying that both men appeared to have heard what he wanted it to sound like.

“I don’t want to be pulled into your spats.”

Gabi’s smile faded.

“Biffy—”

“No. Listen.”

Nico straightened.

“You’re in my office,” Biffy continued. “I’m trying to work. And I have apparently been recruited into an argument without being told there was a vacancy.”

“It’s not an argument,” Nico said.

Gabi looked down at his coffee.

Biffy turned to him.

“If you want to talk to me, you’re welcome to. If you want Nico to see you flirting with me, please find someone else to flirt with.”

“I do like talking to you.”

“I should be very pleased to believe that.”

Gabi looked up.

For a moment, Biffy wished he had put it less plainly.

BIFFY — LEGAL COUNSEL, PEOPLE & CULTURE

“I don’t object to people liking one another.”

He paused.

“I object to discovering that my contribution was to look as though I might be liked.”

Gabi stood.

“I’m sorry.”

“Thank you.”

Nico opened his mouth.

Biffy looked at him.

Nico shut it again.

It was the most constructive thing Biffy had done in the office all week.

Word spread that Biffy had successfully defused what the office called an engagement.

By three o’clock, Facilities had asked what he’d said. By four, someone from Engineering had brought him a good biscuit from an actual bakery. 

He found the gratitude considerably more alarming than the incident.

BIFFY — LEGAL COUNSEL, PEOPLE & CULTURE

“I was right miffed.”

He adjusted his glasses.

“Gabi was trying to make Nico jealous. Nico was obliging him. And I was apparently there to provide the premises and a rather confused expression.”

“Were you angry?”

“Extremely. If they hadn’t stopped, I’d have beaten them off each other with the contract.”

There was a noise behind the camera.

Biffy looked up.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

He considered what he had said.

“Oh, do grow up.”

A pause.

“It’s a substantial document. I believe it would have been enough to separate them.”

Gabi apologised without bringing coffee.

Biffy appreciated this. It left him nothing to accept except the apology.

“I was using you to wind him up,” Gabi said. “You were right.”

“Thank you.”

“I did like talking to you.”

“I liked talking to you too. That is what made it rather difficult.”

Gabi looked down.

“Can I take you to lunch?”

Biffy’s expression cooled.

“Somewhere else,” Gabi added. “Off campus. Just us.”

“Will Nico be joining us at the soup course?”

“No.”

“Or collecting you before pudding?”

“No.”

Biffy considered him.

“All right.”

The café was attached to Gabi’s gym.

It had large windows, uncomfortable chairs and a menu which treated unseasoned chicken as a delicacy.

Biffy studied it.

“Do they serve anything that hasn’t been assigned a purpose?”

“The cake.”

“Splendid.”

Gabi ordered at the counter then returned to the table and sat down with a long groan. 

“I’ve marked this as training.”

Biffy looked up.

“Have you?”

“It’s lunchtime anyway. But Nico can see my location, so the gym’s a perfect excuse.”

Biffy nodded and chose not to comment.

He had been promised an apology and a sandwich. He would attend to the wider implications once he had received both.

Gabi watched him for a moment.

“I won’t spend the whole time talking about him.”

“Thank you.”

“What would you like to talk about?”

Gabi glanced at the cake meant for Biffy arriving on the tray.

“Your interpretation of a balanced lunch seems an excellent starting point.” Gabi smiled.

They went again on Thursday.

On Tuesday of the following week, Gabi appeared at Biffy’s door carrying his coat.

“Training?”

Biffy saved his document.

“I’ve made remarkable progress without once changing my shoes.”

By the third week, the woman at the counter knew their orders.

By the fourth, Gabi had learned that Biffy disliked mushrooms but would eat them rather than ask for a dish to be changed. That Biffy could return an incorrectly calculated bill without embarrassment, but would sit in direct sunlight for forty minutes before asking someone to lower a blind.

“You could have said something,” Gabi told him, pulling it down.

“I’d begun to hope for clouds and then thought about the nice tan I'd get.”

They talked about Gabi’s family, Biffy’s brother, dreadful films and holidays that had gone wrong.

Once, Gabi arrived looking tired, sad, and said very little.

Biffy told him a long story about a friend's stolen manuscript for a book that he had to help recover.

At the end, Gabi reached across and briefly rested his hand on Biffy’s wrist.

“Thanks.”

“For the horribly recounted, complicated, and completely deranged story?”

“For not asking me what was wrong.”

Biffy found himself unable to remember what he had intended to do with his afternoon.

BIFFY — LEGAL COUNSEL, PEOPLE & CULTURE

“It’s become a regular lunch.”

“How regular?”

“Twice a week. Occasionally three times, if training requirements are particularly exacting.”

“Do you still discuss the agreement?”

“Not much.”

He adjusted his glasses.

“I’ve discovered he has other interests.”

“Such as?”

Biffy paused.

“I’m trying not to make assumptions.”

On a Wednesday morning, Gabi sent a message.

Can’t do today. Sim’s running late. Tomorrow?

Biffy read it while standing in the kitchen.

Then he read it again, although there was no contractual ambiguity.

Tomorrow would be lovely. 

The kettle clicked off.

Biffy had been looking forward to telling Gabi something. Nothing important: his mother had accidentally ran for her church council. He had saved the story all morning.

Now he would have to save it until tomorrow.

BIFFY — LEGAL COUNSEL, PEOPLE & CULTURE

“I rather think I’m in trouble.”

“With Nico?”

“No. I’m waking up pleased on days when Gabi and I are having lunch.”

Biffy looked down, smiling despite himself.

“I’ve bought shirts. Voluntarily. My mother asked whether I was being promoted.”

“What did you tell her?”

“That I’d met someone.”

A pause.

“She said, ‘Yes, darling. I worked that out. I was being funny.’”

“Does Gabi know?”

“Good heavens, I hope not.”

He considered this.

“At the same time I also rather desperately hope he does.”

Buffy sighed. 

“I’m beginning to see why Nico behaves as he does.”

“In what sense?”

“He gets to see him every day, do whatever he wants with him, and he still wants more time to be with him.”

Biffy looked down, smiling helplessly.

“I rather thought that was excessive.”

“And now?”

“I’ve been wondering whether our café serves all three meals.”

Biffy decided to ask Gabi to dinner.

Properly. In a restaurant unconnected to a gym, at an hour which could not reasonably be mistaken for lunch. 

He checked the simulator schedule, established when Gabi’s session ended, and left his office before he could develop an objection to the entire enterprise.

Would you like to have dinner with me?

A sound sentence. Brief, intelligible, no subordinate clauses in which to lose one’s nerve.

He tried it silently as he walked.

Then Nico appeared at the far end of the corridor.

Biffy turned on a dime.

It was a crisp manoeuvre, marred only by the fact that there was no plausible destination behind him except the corridor he had just traversed.

“Edward.”

Biffy continued for one hopeful step.

“Edward!”

He turned.

“Ah! Hullo, Nico. Lovely hallway, what?”

Nico was looking at him.

“What are you doing here?”

“Trying to find the bathroom.”

“The bathroom.”

“Yes. Ha, ha, ha.”

The laugh arrived in three distinct installments. Biffy heard each one with mounting horror.

Nico glanced at the door beside him.

Biffy followed his gaze.

TOILETS.

“Excellent,” he said.

He did not go in.

Instead, he resumed walking.

“Uh, you just passed it,” Nico called.

“Yes. Quite.”

Biffy raised a hand without looking back and kept going until he reached the stairwell.

He went through the door, descended half a flight, and stopped.

“Why did I laugh like that?”

The camera operator came through behind him.

Biffy looked up.

“No, really. Was that a laugh I’ve done before?”

BIFFY — LEGAL COUNSEL, PEOPLE & CULTURE

“I’m entitled to walk down a corridor.”

He folded his hands.

“There was absolutely no reason to behave as though I’d been discovered selling state secrets.”

“Why didn’t you tell him you were waiting for Gabi?”

“I suppose I thought some violence might occur.”

Biffy adjusted his glasses.

“He’s considerably fitter than I am. My own time at the gym recently has been devoted chiefly to the cafeteria.”

A pause.

“So you left.”

“At a dignified pace.”

“You laughed.”

“Yes. Apparently I elected to leave under cover of merriment.”

Back at his desk, Biffy opened Teams.

Would you have a moment to come to my office? Nothing contractual.

He considered the last part, decided it was essential, and sent it.

Gabi arrived five minutes later.

He stepped inside and closed the door.

“Would you have dinner with me?”

Biffy practically ejaculated the question before Gabi had turned around.

Gabi stopped with his hand on the handle.

Biffy sat very still behind his desk.

“I’d intended to stand up.”

Gabi turned.

“For dinner?”

“To ask. I had a more composed approach in mind.”

“You can ask again.”

“No, I think we’ve successfully established the proposition.”

Gabi smiled.

“Dinner?”

“Yes.”

“Not at the gym café?”

“Somewhere preferably with soft jazz and the absence of the Carol of the Kettlebells. Unless you dislike fancy places. It’s not central to the offer. We could go to some hole in the wall souvlaki place, what?”

Gabi came towards the desk.

“Are you asking me on a date?”

“Yes,” Biffy said, with the air of a man stepping off a cliff.

“I’d love to.”

Biffy looked up.

“Would you?”

“Yes.”

“Splendid.”

He reached for his notebook, realised he had no professional reason to record this, and left it alone.

“Thursday?” Gabi suggested.

“Thursday would be lovely.”

“Pick somewhere. I’ll drive.”

“Excellent.”

By the time their plates were cleared, Biffy had stopped worrying about whether Gabi was having a good time and begun trying to have a good time himself.

Gabi seemed to be. He had laughed at the story about Biffy’s brother and the swan who chased him to the top of a gazebo with unnecessary anger and borderline violence, then supplied another family anecdote sufficiently embarrassing to suggest either trust or a humiliation kink.

“Dessert?” Biffy asked.

“Are you having one?”

“I’d hoped you might provide moral support.”

“I’ll have anything with chocolate.”

“Excellent. We’re a united front.”

Gabi smiled across the table.

Biffy looked down at the dessert menu, though he already knew what he wanted.

“May I ask about He Who Shall Not Be Named?”

“Nico?”

“Keep your voice down. We don’t want to summon him.”

Gabi laughed.

“Go on.”

“Not professionally, though, I’m off duty.”

“Do you have to announce that fact?”

“Under the circumstances, I thought it wise.”

He put the menu down.

“What is it you want from him?”

Gabi turned his empty glass between his hands.

“That’s a big question.”

“Yes. Rather larger than I’d intended when I began the sentence. It almost got caught in my throat.”

“It’s clear he wants a relationship.”

“Is it?”

“He wants me there all the time. Dinner, breakfast, staying over when we’re not doing anything. He asks about my day and then gets annoyed when there are bits he wasn’t in.”

Biffy smiled faintly.

“I’d like some of it,” Gabi said. “But I don’t think it’s appropriate while we’ve got the arrangement.”

“So you would want to be with him?”

“Yes.”

It was a small word. Biffy found it took up quite a lot of the table.

Gabi looked at him carefully.

“But I think Nico wants the arrangement on top of a relationship. He wants me to choose to stay all evening. Then, in the morning at work, he wants to fuck me against every wall in headquarters whether I’m tired or not.”

“Ah.”

Biffy didn’t want to think about his own office’s walls. 

The waiter interupted with their dessert. Biffy thanked him with rather more warmth than the delivery of a meal ordinarily warranted.

For a moment, they ate in silence.

“Have I made this awkward?” Gabi asked.

“No. Certainly not. I’m the one who asked, what?”

Gabi smiled, then reached across and rested his hand beside Biffy’s.

“Thank you for asking me out.”

Biffy looked at the hand. He moved his own a little closer.

“Let’s finish our pudding before attempting anything more complicated.”

Once the pudding was gone, they ordered espresso to keep the night going. 

“I’m not much of a gossip,” Biffy said.

Gabi looked at him over his demitasse.

“But?”

“I am curious. If you’re willing to answer.”

“About Nico?”

Biffy nodded.

“How is he, you know—”

Gabi waited.

Biffy made a small, unhelpful movement with his hand.

The physical side of romance had always struck Biffy as one of those peculiar human enterprises, like mountaineering or competitive eating, which he was perfectly content to leave to the enthusiasts. His current employment had nevertheless obliged him to become so intimately acquainted with the subject that he felt he had experienced several lifetimes of it, entirely against his will.

“You know, what?” Gabi asked.

“Oh, don’t make me ask it.”

“No. I want to hear you ask.” Gabi smirked.

“You’ve understood perfectly.”

“I’d hate to answer the wrong question.”

Biffy looked towards the window. Outside, people were passing by having perfectly satisfactory evenings without asking his coworker about the sexual prowess of their mutual coworker.

“How is he,” he said, lowering his voice, “in bed?”

Gabi’s face lit up.

Biffy laughed at once, partly in apology and partly from a wish to dissociate himself from the man who had just asked the question.

“I’m sorry. That was inappropriate.”

“You can’t take it back now.”

“I’m simply—well. I was a fan.”

“Of his?” Gabi's eyes widened. 

“Yes. Though I’m not sure one can remain a fan of a fellow once he’s asked you to interpret a contract that ought to have alarmed everyone involved in drafting it. Rather alters the footing, what?”

Gabi laughed.

“On screen, you all seem quite self-contained,” Biffy continued. “You drive the car, give the interview, and disappear when one switches off the telly. One rather assumes you’ve been put away until the next race weekend.”

“And then?”

“Then you meet one of the real chaps, and he’s kind, and absurdly good company, and remembers something you said on Tuesday which you’d scarcely expected him to listen to on Tuesday.”

He glanced down at his glass.

“And you find yourself sitting opposite him at dinner, wondering how you’ve managed it. Particularly when your principal accomplishment is passing the SQE.”

“I like your company too.”

Biffy looked up.

"I’m trying to take that like a normal person.”

Gabi leaned forward.

“Do you actually want an answer?”

Biffy hesitated.

His curiosity had felt much safer before an answer became imminent.

“Perhaps a broad assessment, what?”

Gabi smiled.

“He’s very attentive.”

Biffy laughed.

“And he likes lots of enthusiasm and encouragement.”

Gabi rested his chin on his hand.

“Are you going to tell me what you used to think about him?”

“Certainly not.”

“Oh, come on.”

“I’ve already made one extraordinary departure from good manners. I’m not going to make it a habit.”

BIFFY — LEGAL COUNSEL, PEOPLE & CULTURE

“I asked a question I had no business asking.”

“Did the answer satisfy your curiosity?”

“Yes.”

A pause.

“I should now like to recover the degree of mystery that existed before I joined the team.”

“Come on,” Gabi said. “I’ve told you the secret life of Formula One drivers, well, two Formula One drivers. I want to know what you think of him.”

Gabi gave him an enormous, hopeful look.

Biffy inspected his stirring spoon.

“No.”

Gabi said nothing.

“You needn’t do the eyes.” Biffy added.

“What eyes?”

Gabi widened them slightly.

“Oh, fine. He’s corking.”

Gabi broke into a grin.

“And I imagine just as demanding as I’d expected.”

“Expected?”

Biffy realised his error.

“Deduced. From the public material.” Biffy said as he waved his hand. 

“What public material?”

“Interviews. Races. The general bearing of the chap.”

“You watched interviews and thought, ‘He looks demanding’?”

“Among other perfectly ordinary observations.”

Gabi leaned forward.

“What other observations?”

“I’ve answered the question.”

“You’ve introduced several new ones.”

“Yes. A dreadful lapse.”

Gabi laughed, looking thoroughly pleased with him.

Biffy set down his stirring spoon.

“I’d be grateful if none of that found its way back to him.”

Gabi pulled up outside a narrow brownstone.

“This one?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

A light came on behind the first-floor curtains.

Gabi’s hand stopped on the ignition.

“Are you—”

Biffy followed his gaze.

“What?”

“Married?”

“No. My mother’s home.”

Gabi looked back at him.

“It’s her house,” Biffy added.

“Oh.”

“Yes.”

BIFFY — LEGAL COUNSEL, PEOPLE & CULTURE

“Everyone has their faults.”

He adjusted his glasses.

“Mine is largely a matter of residential arrangements.”

“Are you embarrassed?”

“Not about my mother. She’s perfectly respectable.”

A pause.

“I hoped to introduce the subject while doing something that suggested independence. Paying a bill, perhaps. Doing my taxes.”

Gabi got out of the car.

“You needn’t walk me up,” Biffy said.

“I’d like to.”

“Only six steps.”

“Then I won’t get tired.”

Biffy found his keys as they reached the top. He held them between both hands, as though about to make a small presentation.

“Well.”

Gabi stood one step below him.

“Well.”

“I’ve had a tremendously...”

“Me too.”

“Good. Excellent.”

Gabi smiled.

Biffy looked at the door, then at Gabi, then at a perfectly blameless shrub beside the railing.

“I wondered whether...”

“Whether?”

“Well, if you’d...”

He stopped. The sentence had developed several possible endings, none accessible from his present position.

Gabi stepped closer.

“Oh, just kiss me.”

“Right-o.”

Biffy bent towards him.

Gabi’s hand settled against his coat, steadying him or encouraging him; Biffy was too occupied to establish which. The kiss was warm and, luckily, did not require him to say anything.

He drew back a little.

Gabi smiled.

“Ah,” Biffy said.

It seemed like an inadequate response, but Gabi kissed him again anyway.

The second kiss was rather less tentative than the first. Biffy had just begun to feel he might be getting the hang of it when the front door opened.

“Oh—”

They drew apart.

His mother stood in the doorway, one hand still on the latch.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know you had company.”

“Not as sorry as I am, Mother.”

She got a better look at Gabi and was instantly intrigued. 

“Well. Good evening.”

“Hello,” Gabi said, smiling.

Biffy’s mother looked at him, waiting for the introduction.

“This is Gabi.”

“How lovely.”

She looked from Gabi to Biffy with an expression he recognised and feared.

"I'll leave the door unlocked." Biffy's mother said as she closed the door.

When it was shut and his mother walked away from the door, Gabi caught Biffy's hand.

“I had a really good time.”

“So did I.”

“You really helped me put everything into perspective.”

Gabi kissed him again, softly, then stepped back.

"Well, glad I could help."

“Night, Biffy.”

“Goodnight.”

Biffy remained on the steps until the car pulled away.

BIFFY — LEGAL COUNSEL, PEOPLE & CULTURE

“Yes. Dinner was lovely.”

He smiled briefly, then looked down.

“He’s very easy to like.”

“Do you think he likes you?”

“I think he enjoyed our time together.”

“That wasn’t the question.”

Biffy rubbed his thumb along his watch strap.

“I’m trying not to make too much of it.”

“Why?”

“Well, look at him.”

He gave a small, embarrassed laugh.

“Then look at me. I’m a pudgy solicitor who still lives with his mother. Not exactly the sort of fellow one expects to inspire grand passions.”

Biffy laughed again, rather more at his own expense than he’d intended.

“But enough of that. I do think he believes Nico is the real thing. And I can hardly blame him. After all, Nico’s gone to an extraordinary amount of trouble over him. It seems only fair that they should have a proper chance to work things out.”

He considered this for a moment.

“The trouble is, I rather suspect the arrangement is going to shoot the horse before it’s even out of the starting gate.”

GABRIEL — DRIVER

“He’s perfect.”

Gabi smiled.

“He kept asking whether I was cold in the car. He was absolutely freezing himself, but he wouldn’t say so. He just kept asking me if I was alright.”

Gabi looked briefly away, smiling to himself.

“He’s lovely. I don’t think he has any idea how lovely he is.”

“How will Nico feel about this?”

Gabi’s smile faltered.

“Don’t care.”

“Does he know you went to dinner?”

“No.”

“Are you going to tell him?”

“Yes. Eventually. When it comes up. I’m not trying to hide anything.”

“Will he be upset?”

“Yes.”

“Does that bother you?”

“Of course it bothers me. I like him.”

He picked at the seam of the chair.

“I like him a lot, actually.”

“Then why go on a date with someone else?”

Gabi looked up.

“Because I wanted to go on a date with someone.”

He seemed to realize that wasn't much of an answer.

“And because I can. Nico knows what the arrangement is. He helped write the thing. There’s nothing in there saying I can't go on a date.”

“Is that what you’ll tell him?”

“No. He’ll hear ‘there’s a loophole’ and spend the rest of the day trying to patch it.”

Gabi laughed.

“And that’s the problem, really. Everything hinges on the arrangement with Nico. Everything has to abide by the terms and conditions. I can’t even be angry with him without feeling like I have to consult someone first.”

He looked down at his hands.

“I don’t want to hurt Nico. I really don't.”

“Do you think Biffy could make you happy?”

Gabi smiled again.

“I think he could make someone very happy.”

“Someone?”

“Yeah.”

There was a pause.

“Not you?”

Gabi gave a small, embarrassed laugh.

“I don't know. I mean, we had a really nice time. A really, really nice time. And I think I’d forgotten what that was like.”

“What?”

“Going on a first date.”

He laughed at how ridiculous it sounded.

“An actual first date. You pick someone up, you go to dinner, you talk about things. You ask each other questions because you want to know the answers. You sit there wondering if they're going to kiss you afterward.”

He smiled to himself.

“I used to do that all the time. When I was younger. I used to get so excited about it. Picking out what to wear, wondering if they liked me, all of that stupid stuff.”

“Did you feel that way with Biffy?”

“Yes.”

Gabi nodded.

“I did. And it was really nice.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

Gabi hesitated.

“There isn't one. That's sort of the problem.”

He looked away for a moment.

“I kept thinking about how I want to be able to do that with Nico.”

Gabi laughed softly, but his eyes had begun to water.

“I went on a date with this wonderful guy, and he was sweet and funny and interested in me, and all I could think about was how much I wished I could do it with Nico.”

He wiped quickly beneath one eye.

“Which is horrible, actually. Biffy doesn't deserve that.”

“Does he know?”

“I think he might.”

Gabi gave a sad little smile.

“He's clever. I think he knows quite a lot more than he lets on.”

“Then why did you go?”

Gabi thought for a while.

“Because I think I needed to remember what it was like to have someone start from zero. Take me out, get to know me, try to win me over.”

He looked at the interviewer.

“Not contract me. Not arrange for me to be somewhere. Just ask me.”

He shrugged.

“Did you know Nico was the first person I met on my first day? He barely said two words to me. I just turned up at the building, and the next thing I knew, I was in a conference room kissing him.”

Gabi laughed.

“I didn't even know him. I knew who he was, obviously, but I didn't know anything about him. And somehow we'd skipped straight to the part where we were making out in an empty conference room.”

“Did you mind?”

“No. God, no.”

He laughed again.

“I thought I'd won the lottery.”

His smile lingered.

“And I still feel that way about him, which is probably part of the problem. I got everything I thought I wanted on the first day. I never really stopped to think about all the things we'd skipped.”

NICO — DRIVER

“Yes. I know.”

“Gabi told you?”

“No. I have his location.”

“So you saw they were at a restaurant.”

“Yes.”

“Did you recognize the restaurant?”

“I looked it up.”

“Why?”

“To see whether it was the restaurant I thought it was.”

“Was it?”

“Yes.”

“And Biffy’s house?”

Nico looked at the interviewer.

“I was already in the car.”

There was a long pause.

“They were on the steps for quite a while.”

“How long did you stay?”

“I was just passing by. It was a coincidence.”

“At eleven o’clock at night?”

“Yes.”

Nico shifted in his seat.

“I don’t see why we’re focusing on this. This is a serious conflict of interest.”

“Because they went to dinner?”

“Because Edward is administering an agreement involving someone he’s now dating. That is completely inappropriate. You cannot have a solicitor entering into a personal relationship with someone whose contractual interests he’s supposed to be managing. He’s supposed to be mediating not potentially acting in Gabi's best interest.”

Nico stared at the interviewer.

“Did they kiss?” Nico asked.

“I don’t think that’s relevant.”

“Did they?”

“Yes.”

Nico leaned back, folding his arms.

“The thing is, Edward knows perfectly well what the situation is between Gabi and me. He’s seen the agreement. He’s been involved in the discussions. He knows everything.”

“And that makes it inappropriate for him to date Gabi?”

“Yes.”

“Does the agreement prohibit Gabi from dating other people?”

“No.”

“Then what has Edward done wrong?”

“He’s compromised his professional opinion.”

“Right.”

“He has. You can’t seriously tell me this is acceptable.”

“Have you spoken to Gabi?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because this isn’t Gabi’s fault.”

“Whose fault is it?”

“Edward’s.”

“Gabi agreed to go on the date.”

“Yes, I understand how dates work.”

“Then why aren’t you angry with Gabi?”

“Because Edward should have known better. I think he’s trying to take advantage of the situation.”

“Do you think Gabi might genuinely like him?”

Nico laughed.

“I don’t know what Gabi sees in him.”

“What do you think Gabi sees in you?”

Nico’s expression changed.

“What sort of question is that?”

“I’m asking why you think Gabi would choose you over Edward.”

“Because he already has.”

“Has he?”

Nico stared at the interviewer.

“Of course he has.”

“Then why are you worried?”

“I’m not worried.”

Nico looked around the room. None of the crew could meet his eyes except the interviewer.

“I think you’re making this into something it isn’t.”

“What is it, then?”

“It’s a professional issue.”

“Not a romantic one?”

“No.”

“Are you jealous?”

Nico gave a short, incredulous laugh.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Then what would you like to happen?”

“I’d like Edward to behave professionally.”

“And Gabi?”

Nico hesitated.

“I’d like Gabi to be happy.”

“Even if that means dating Edward?”

Nico looked at the interviewer for several seconds.

“No? Hell no.”

“Why not?”

“What do you mean, why not?”

“Why wouldn’t you want Gabi to date Edward?”

“Because I don’t want him to.”

“Why?” The interviewer practically shouted.

“Because I’m in love with him!”

Nico said it sharply, as though the interviewer had finally succeeded in asking the stupidest question of the afternoon.

There was a silence.

“How long have you been in love with him?”

Nico made an impatient gesture.

“I don’t know. Does it matter?”

“Does Gabi know?”

Nico frowned.

“Of course he knows.”

“Have you told him?”

Nico stared.

“What?”

“Have you told Gabi you’re in love with him?”

“I shouldn’t have to.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s obvious.”

“To you?”

“To anyone with eyes.”

“Then why did Gabi go on a date with Edward?”

Nico’s expression hardened.

“You’d have to ask Gabi.”

“Maybe he doesn’t know.”

“Oh, he knows.”

“How?”

Nico leaned forward.

“Do you have any idea what I’ve done for that boy?”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“I’ve rearranged my entire life around him.”

“Have you told him that?”

“He’s living it.”

Nico looked around the room. It had acquired the unmistakable atmosphere of a biker bar after someone had gone outside and kicked over every motorcycle in the parking lot.

“Edward’s still on probation.”

The interviewer leaned closer.

“Are you suggesting his job might be at risk?”

“I’m suggesting that people need to consider the consequences of their actions.”

“Is that something you’ll tell him?”

“I think we should clear the air.”

“About his job or Gabi?”

Nico raised an eyebrow at the interviewer.

Nico stepped in and then shut Biffy’s office door.

Biffy looked up.

“Ah, Nico, how can I help you?”

Nico ignored him and sat without being invited.

“You’ve enjoyed your first few weeks?” Nico asked. 

“Yes.” Biffy set down his pen. “Is there something you need?”

“I’m concerned about your judgement.”

“Regarding?”

“Gabi.”

Biffy was quiet.

Nico leaned back.

“I’m just going to say right now: stop seeing him.”

Biffy moved his notebook in front of him.

“And if I don’t?”

“I may have to raise my concerns, but I would like if we resolved them ourselves.”

Biffy wrote something down.

Nico glanced at the page.

“What are you doing?”

“Making contemporaneous notes.”

“There’s no need for that.”

“I disagree.”

“Edward, this was meant to be an informal conversation.”

“Yes. You’ve made that quite clear.”

Nico stood.

“Think about what I’ve said.”

“I shall.”

After he left, Biffy remained seated with the pen in his hand.

Then he drew a line beneath the note, added the time, and called the Head of Legal.

BIFFY — LEGAL COUNSEL, PEOPLE & CULTURE

“I’m always frightened of losing the job.”

He looked down briefly.

“I’d rather not pretend otherwise. I have to move out eventually if I do eventually want to have any romantic prospects with anyone.”

“Are you going to stop seeing Gabi?”

“I’m going to report what happened in my office.”

NICO — DRIVER

“I thought we understood each other.”

The interviewer rolled their eyes.

“Biffy’s asked the Head of Legal to attend any further discussions.”

Nico’s expression changed.

“He’s escalated it?”

“Yes.”

A pause.

“He does make everything formal.”

The following morning, Biffy went to see the team’s General Counsel.

He brought the driving contract and the supplementary agreement.

"Ah, the Biff-ster! Bust up another Gabico rendezvous?" He asked.

Biffy ignored him. 

“What happens to the supplementary agreement when Gabi’s driving contract comes up for renewal?”

The General Counsel raised an eyebrow. 

“Straight to it I see, well, we’ll renew that too.”

Biffy waited.

“On the existing terms?”

“Subject to negotiation. The rates may need reviewing.” The General Counsel shrugged.

“What if he doesn’t want it renewed?”

“That’s something we’d have to discuss with him.”

“Yes. And following that discussion, if his answer remained no?”

The General Counsel frowned.

“Has he said something about wanting to end it?”

“I’m asking about the process.”

“The discussions for both contracts will happen together.”

“So I gathered from the original offer.”

“It’s a package.”

Biffy set both folders on the desk, leaving a small gap between them.

“Could he accept this one and decline this one?”

The General Counsel glanced at them. The cover of the supplementary agreement folder had begun to come away from the spine, having been subjected to the sort of prolonged and exhaustive scrutiny Biffy generally reserved for documents he suspected concealed a body.

“The team would have to consider its position.”

“Regarding his driving seat.”

“Regarding the overall agreement.”

Biffy was quiet.

Outside the office, someone was struggling to manoeuvre a trolley around a chair. There was a scrape, an apology and another scrape then another apology. It did nothing to cut the tension. 

“What would inform that consideration?” He asked.

“Performance. Commercial factors. The driver pairing.”

“Nico?”

“He would certainly have input.”

“Into whether Gabi remains employed.”

“He has considerable experience. Industry knowledge.”

“I’m not querying his lap times or how much we both know he really knows.”

The General Counsel leaned back.

“Biffy, where are you going with this?”

“I’m trying to establish whether Gabi can stop participating in the supplementary agreement without putting his driving career here at risk.”

“We can’t guarantee anyone a renewal.”

“Of course not. Can we guarantee that refusing this arrangement won’t count against him?”

The General Counsel looked at the two documents again.

“I wouldn’t give him that assurance without speaking to the relevant people.”

Biffy took out his notebook.

“Who are the relevant people?”

“The Team Principal. Head of People. Marketing, potentially.”

“And Nico?”

“Possibly.”

He wrote down the names.

“There’s no need to make this adversarial,” the General Counsel continued. “Is Gabi unhappy?”

Biffy’s pen stopped.

“I’d like to know what happens if he is.”

Biffy requested the original offer letters.

Then the recruitment correspondence.

Then the entire version history of the documents.

By the time Gabi arrived, Biffy’s customary neat stacks had disappeared. His desk looked as though a bomb had gone off in a stationery cupboard, scattering papers and sticky notes with a thoroughness that suggested the explosion hadn't been a controlled one.

“Am I in trouble?”

“No. Please sit down.”

Gabi sat.

Biffy took off his glasses.

“When they offered you the driving position, could you have rejected the supplementary arrangement and still taken the seat?”

Gabi glanced at the papers.

“I don't know. I signed both. I never asked.”

“Were you expressly told you could accept one and decline the other?”

“I don’t remember.”

“Were you told what would happen if you declined the supplementary agreement?”

Gabi frowned.

"No." 

"And you didn't ask I presume." 

"Isn't that what a lawyer is for?"

Biffy leaned his head to the side sympathetically. 

"Oh, you sweet summer child."

After a good bit of affectionate head shaking Gabi said: 

“Nico picked me.”

“I know.”

“For both roles.”

Biffy looked down briefly.

“So you believe you would still have the driving job if you said no?”

Gabi was quiet for a long time.

“No.”

“Right.”

“But I wanted them both at the time.”

“I believe you.”

“He’s attractive. The money is good. I wasn’t sitting there thinking somebody was forcing me.”

“I understand.”

“Then why are you looking me like that?”

“Because you’ve just told me you didn’t believe refusing was a viable option if you wanted to be employed.”

Biffy lowered his voice.

“You can want him. You can enjoy the arrangement. That doesn’t answer whether the team made your career conditional on accepting it.”

“But the contract says it’s voluntary.”

Biffy just looked at him. 

"Doesn't it?"

Biffy turned the driving offer letter around and read aloud.

“This offer is subject to execution of the accompanying agreements.”

Gabi read it to himself.

“The supplementary agreement is one of the-” Biffy paused and corrected himself. "The only accompanying agreement."

Neither spoke.

“Am I gonna lose my seat?”

Biffy’s expression changed.

“I can’t promise you an outcome.”

Gabi sat back.

“But this is what I’m concerned about. Even if you don't feel like you were coerced in the moment. The next time you need to sign this thing you may be coerced because you'll be worried about your seat. I'm concerned about the legality of the arrangement. Seriously concerned. You need independent advice from someone who has no relationship with the team.”

“Does Nico know you’re looking at this?”

“Not yet.”

“He’ll be furious.”

“I expect so.”

“He’ll say I’m only complaining because of you.”

“The documents you’re complaining about predate me. I'm the only person who's properly read them and explained them to you honestly." 

For the first time since entering, he seemed to see how much work Biffy had already done.

“What about your job?”

"I'm sorry, but I will be leaving the team. There are serious problems in this office, beyond this contract, and I refuse to continue and be complicit." 

Biffy glanced at the offer letter between them.

“But I don’t want to leave either of you stranded."

Gabi looked up.

“Either?”

“Yes.”

“Nico threatened you.”

“I haven’t forgotten.”

“Then why are you worried about him?”

Biffy took a moment.

“Because I’m not convinced he understands how serious this is.”

“He knows what he’s doing.”

“He knows what he wants. I’m less certain he’s thought beyond that.”

Gabi sat back.

“So you’re going to help him.”

“Yes. Well-”

Biffy rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“He’s a danger to himself, professionally, and he has influence over your career as though it’s an employee benefit.”

Despite himself, Gabi gave a small laugh.

Biffy didn’t.

“It’s reputational suicide. And his instinct, when challenged, appears to be to say slash do something worse.”

“You feel sorry for him?”

“Yes.”

Biffy sighed.

“You both need independent advice. The team needs to preserve the records and review how this was approved. I need someone else to handle my position.”

Gabi watched him write.

“You’re trying to look after everyone.”

“I’m trying to leave without pretending I didn’t see anything.” Biffy said, “The people who are most at fault are the people who approved it.”

Gabi looked at the papers.

“Nico?”

“Above Nico.”

“He asked for it.”

“Yes. He should answer for the position he's put you in, personally. But somebody received that request and decided the appropriate response was to commission a contract.”

Biffy pulled a printed email from the stack.

“Then somebody in Finance approved the payments. Somebody in Legal reviewed the wording. Somebody authorised sending both offers together.”

“And Nico got what he wanted.”

“That isn’t an explanation I’m prepared to accept from the board.”

“They knew it was questionable?”

“I’ve found correspondence discussing the risk.”

“What does it say?”

Biffy glanced down.

“The commercial value of retaining the senior driver must be considered alongside the potential for a leak.”

Gabi looked at him.

“A leak of what?”

“That’s a question the next email avoids answering.”

Biffy put the page down.

“They weren’t simply unaware. They identified the problem, discussed how much it might cost them, and then proceeded.”

For a moment, he said nothing.

“My role appears in the dispute procedure section.”

Gabi leaned forward.

“So if somebody complained—”

“They could point to an official-looking process. A qualified solicitor. Regular reviews. A remarkably comprehensive spreadsheet. And they’ve been quick about paying you.”

Biffy pointed at him. 

“They’ll need to explain why they tied the offers together.”

BIFFY — LEGAL COUNSEL, PEOPLE & CULTURE

“Nico made a request he should never have made and several senior people decided they'd humor him.”

“Why did they?”

“That’s what I’d like them to answer. Preferably without referring me to Nico.”

“There’s one question I can’t answer for you.” Biffy said as he threw his pen onto one of the paper stacks. 

Gabi looked up.

“Do you want to be with Nico?”

Gabi glanced at the folder.

“You know he’ll still want you,” Biffy said. “I don’t think the existence of the contract is what’s sustaining his interest.”

A small smile crossed Gabi’s face.

"Yes. I do."

He sat back and, for a while, looked at nothing in particular.

"Good." Biffy said. 

“I thought you wanted me to say no.”

“I have feelings about the answer. That doesn’t entitle me to get what I want to hear.”

Gabi smirked.

“All I want is for you to be able to change your mind later without fearing for your career.”

Later, Nico looked relieved when Gabi came to his flat.

"Hey-"

“I’ve been speaking to Biffy.” Gabi cut him off. 

“Yes. I assumed.”

“About the agreement.”

Nico let him in.

“What’s wrong with it now?”

“I don’t think we should have it.”

For a moment, Nico said nothing.

Then he nodded.

“We can get someone to deal with the clauses.”

“No, Nico. I mean we need to end it.”

Gabi moved further into the flat and sat on Nico's couch.

“Will Edward be happier then?”

“This isn’t about making him happy.”

“He’s certainly spent enough time on it.”

“He asked me whether I could refuse it and keep the seat.”

Nico’s expression changed.

“And?”

“I don't know and he confirmed that it's a maybe at best.”

“A maybe? Gabi, of course you could.”

“Would you have told them to renew me?”

“Yes.”

Gabi waited for something more. He had become quite good at waiting on that couch, although the waiting rarely ended with an answer he wanted.

“I never asked for most of it, you know,” Nico said eventually. “All the bookings and the different rates. I asked for you, and they came back with a system.”

Gabi stared at him.

Nico seemed to hear the sentence a moment after saying it.

“I liked you.”

“So you asked them to hire me.”

“You were good enough.”

“I know I was.”

“Yes. You were. You are.”

The certainty made Gabi’s throat tighten. He had wanted to hear it when he first arrived: an assessment with nothing attached, no secret meaning he had to separate from the public one. It wasn't just because Nico liked the way he looked.

Nico shifted forward.

“I don’t want you worrying about the seat.”

“Well, I am now.”

Nico rubbed his face.

“Listen.”

He sat down beside Gabi and rested his elbows on his knees.

“I wanted to leave the team,” he said. “They wanted me to stay. They kept asking. What would make it worthwhile? What did I need? They said I could have input on the other driver.”

“And you chose me.”

“I recommended you. Your results were there. They’d already been looking at you.”

Gabi nodded.

“They asked if that would be enough,” Nico continued.

Then Gabi said, “And you asked for the arrangement.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I thought they’d say no.”

Gabi looked at him.

“I was halfway out already. They kept asking what would make me stay, and I thought—”

“Let's see what they'll agree to,” Gabi cut him off.

Nico looked at the floor.

“Yes.”

“And they agreed.”

“They sent it to Legal.”

“Instead of telling you no.”

“Yes.”

“And then they sent it to me. With my offer. The chance to finally be a Formula One driver.”

“I didn't know they'd put it with your offer. I thought it was something they'd bring up when you got here.”

“But you knew they were offering that agreement to someone trying to get into Formula One. Who had already done so much to get here.”

Gabi pressed his palms against his face.

“I liked you. I was pleased you wanted me. And now I'm trying to work out whether saying the wrong thing would mean I didn't get to drive.”

Nico turned toward him.

“Gabi, I would never let them take your seat away.”

“How do I know that if I don't do something right tomorrow you won't change your mind?”

“I wouldn't.”

“No, listen to me. You knew you could leave whenever you wanted. You had other teams interested in you. You could have asked for practically anything, and if they said no, you could have walked away.”

Nico said nothing.

“I couldn't. This was my chance. Maybe my only chance. And they put this agreement in front of me, and I thought, well, if that's what it takes.”

Gabi looked down.

“And the worst part is, I was happy about it. I wanted you too.”

Nico looked at him.

“I wanted you so badly that I hardly thought about what I was agreeing to. I couldn't believe you were interested in me as not just a teammate. I thought I was the luckiest person in the world.”

“You were exactly what I wanted.” Nico said.

Gabi's voice broke slightly.

“That's what makes it so difficult.”

Nico reached for his hand, but Gabi drew it back to his lap.

“I know you want a relationship with me,” Gabi said.

Nico frowned.

“We have a relationship.”

“I know you think we do.”

“We do.”

“Nico, please.”

Nico fell silent.

“I know how you feel about me. At least, I think I do. And I know you want us to be together properly. I want that too.”

“Then what's the problem?”

“The agreement.”

Nico exhaled.

“Gabi, I've told you, we can change it.”

“No. That's not what I mean. We can't have a relationship while it exists. Not a real one.”

“Why not?”

“Because I can't tell where the agreement ends and you begin.”

Nico looked hurt.

“What does that mean?”

“It means I don't know what happens if I say no to you. I don't know what happens if we have a fight, or if I don't want to come over, or if I decide I need some time away from you. I don't know whether I'm disappointing my boyfriend or failing to meet a work obligation.”

Gabi rubbed at his eyes.

“And I don't know what you expect of me. Sometimes I think you want me because you love me, and sometimes I think you love me because you've become used to having me whenever you like.”

Nico looked at him.

“Do you think I only want you because of the agreement?”

“No.”

“Then what?”

“I think you wanted me so badly that you found a way to make sure you could have me. And then you fell in love with me, and you never thought about whether those two things might be a problem.”

Nico opened his mouth.

Nothing came out.

Gabi looked away.

“I don't want to be something you negotiated for.”

Gabi stared at the floor.

“I've spent months trying to be what you want. Trying to make sure you're happy with me. And I know you haven't meant for it to feel like that, but it does.”

His eyes filled.

“If we do this now, I wouldn't even know whether I've been a good boyfriend or a good employee.”

“Gabi.”

“And I want to be your boyfriend. I really do. I want all of it. I want to go out with you, and go home with you, and wake up next to you. I want to have stupid arguments with you about things that don't fucking matter. I want to be able to tell you when you're being an asshole without worrying that someone in HR is going to hear about it.”

Nico gave a faint, involuntary laugh.

Gabi tried to smile.

“I want to know you want me around because you like having me there. Not because the team has agreed to provide me.”

Gabi wiped his cheeks.

“And sometimes I think that's how I've started thinking about myself.”

Gabi finally reached to Nico to let him hold his hand.

Nico took it.

“That's why it has to end.”

Nico looked down at their hands and then Gabi began to cry properly.

Nico put his arms around him, and Gabi threw his arms over his shoulders.

He hadn't intended to cry. He had come prepared to be reasonable, to explain everything Biffy had helped him understand, to make it through the conversation without losing his nerve. But Nico was holding him, and he was warm and familiar, and Gabi loved him so much that it seemed almost unbearable to have to explain why that wasn't enough.

Nico held him tightly.

“I'm sorry,” he said.

Gabi pressed his face against Nico's shoulder.

“I'm so sorry, Gabi.”

For a while, that was all he said.

Then Nico drew back enough to look at him.

“I've been a complete bastard.”

Gabi gave a watery laugh.

Nico brushed a tear from his cheek.

“I should have thought about what it would be like for you. I should have thought about what they were asking you to agree to. I was so pleased they'd said yes that I didn't stop to think about anything else. I didn't even want to leave anymore. I didn't think it would even do that for me.”

Gabi watched him.

Nico swallowed.

“I love you, Gabi.”

Gabi's expression crumpled.

Nico looked frightened for a moment, as though he'd somehow made things worse.

“I do,” he said. “I'm in love with you. I have been for quite a while.”

Nico took a breath.

“I was delusional.”

He laughed a little at himself.

“I love you,” Nico repeated. “I don't know how else to say it.”

For a moment, he smiled at Gabi. Then his expression grew serious.

“But I've put you in a really shitty position.”

Gabi lowered his eyes.

“Yes.”

“And I don't know how to fix it.”

Gabi was quiet for a moment. Then, despite everything, he smiled.

“Good thing we know a guy.”

Gabi laughed, caught Nico's face between his hands, and kissed him.

Nico kissed him back, then drew away just enough to look at him.

"Better call, Biffy."

BIFFY — LEGAL COUNSEL, PEOPLE & CULTURE

“Well. As the great Billy Shakes once said, all’s well that ends well, what?”

Biffy wrapped his mug in a sheet of packing paper.

“The supplementary agreement has been terminated. Gabi’s driving contract is secure.”

He placed the mug in the box.

“And I understand they’re going to dinner.”

“How do you feel about that?”

“I hope they have a nice time. I hope they figure it out.”

He checked a drawer.

“I mean that.”

“What’s next for you?”

“A firm specialising in commercial property.”

“Will you miss Formula One?”

“Yes. I was rather looking forward to working in it.”

He found a teaspoon beneath a stack of stationery and held it up.

“My mother’s.”

“Did you get what you wanted out of the role?”

Biffy considered the question.

“I’m leaving with a better understanding of what I want from the next one.”

“Which is?”

“A clear job description.”

He lifted the box, then glanced back at the camera and the interviewer.

“Are you leaving too?”

“Just getting a final shot.”

“Right.”

He waited politely.

Then his expression changed.

“Actually. I am curious. Who hired you?”

Biffy removed the mic from his tie. The camera operator took it from him.

"Because none of what has been going on seemed reasonably marketable."

“A private investigator.”

He put it down again.

“Sorry?”

“We’re documenting team operations.”

“The whole team?”

“Yes. Recruitment, procurement, finance. All departments.”

“Not just this office.”

“No.”

Biffy looked towards the corridor.

“And you’re reporting to whom?”

“The investigator.”

“Who’s acting for?”

“We can’t disclose the client.”

He considered the camera.

“Did you know about the supplementary agreement before you arrived?”

“No, we were supposed to spend one morning in HR.”

Biffy looked at the interviewer.

Then, for the first time, he laughed.

“Good Lord. You must be behind.”

“A little.”

Biffy turned to leave.

“Who’s next?”

“Communications and Marketing.”

“Oh. Well, then.”

Biffy adjusted the box against his hip.

“I suppose you’re going to have rather a lot of fun with that.”

“Anything we should know?”

He considered the question.

Then he smiled.

“I wouldn’t like to spoil your first morning.”