A/N: A few words to Tumblr and December 17th, 2018. Should our GUS posts become flagged, or either of our blogs get deleted (god knows we're not porn bots but tumblr doesn't seem to be able to tell a boob from a bowl of apples), please be reassured that we'll keep posting our fic here! If you want to contact us, just leave a comment and we'll find a way :)
When Kurt woke up, it took him a moment to realise why his pillow was so flat and hard. It wasn't a pillow at all - it was a binder of notes that he had fallen asleep on...on top of Tristan's hotel bed. He sat up and rubbed his face. Tristan had fallen asleep on the floor, leaning against the side of the bed. Kurt glanced at his wrist watch and got a fright. It was six am, Tuesday morning.
He had spent the night in Tristan's hotel room - and what was much worse...he had left Sebastian home alone overnight by himself.
Kurt felt sick to his stomach. What if Sebastian had had an anxiety attack? After everything Kurt had promised Sebastian about Tristan, how did it look now with him staying out all night? What if Sebastian thought Kurt had changed his mind and had sex with his colleague after all?
Kurt leapt off the bed, cursing himself quietly, and looked around for his shoes.
The rummaging shook Tristan awake. "Hmmm...what time is it?" he asked. Suddenly, he sat up.. "Did we oversleep? Have we missed the meeting?!"
Kurt shook his head, frowning as he tried to push his feet into the pointed toes of his ankle boots, cursing their design. "It's six am," he muttered, "and I really need to get home."
Tristan's eyes widened and his expression turned guilty. "Will you be in trouble? Nothing happened, right? I mean…" he paused and looked down at his clothes. He was still fully dressed from the day before. "Nothing did happen...did it?"
Kurt blushed and shook his head. "No, nothing happened, but I still need to get home." He had visions of Sebastian curled up in a ball somewhere in the apartment, unable to move through fear. "Ugh, I'm so stupid!" Finally, his foot slipped into his boot and he got up.
"I'm really sorry," Tristan offered. He got up and picked up Kurt's jacket from the chair. He held it out awkwardly. "This wouldn't have happened if I hadn't let you come back here to help me."
Kurt shook his head. It didn't matter. All he wanted now was to get home.
"I'll see you at the office, okay?" he said, grabbing his jacket. "You should try to get one or two hours of sleep. Just set an alarm."
Tristan shook his head. "I need to work. I'll see you there...I really am sorry Kurt…"
Kurt was already out of the door.
The ride on the subway seemed to last forever. Kurt kept checking his phone. There were no messages. How were there no messages? Was Sebastian okay? Had he gone out to look for him?
As he got off the subway he tried dialling Sebastian's number. It just rang and rang before hitting voicemail. Where is he?
He finally got to the apartment and took the stairs two at a time. At least I get a morning workout, he thought vaguely. He threw the apartment door open and rushed inside.
"Bas?" he called out, flipping on the light. "Sebastian...I'm here. I'm so sorry, we-" He broke off. Sebastian wasn't in the living room.
"Bas?" he called again, walking to the bedroom. He pushed the door open and stopped in his tracks. Sebastian was there, fast asleep, curled up in the soft embrace of Bruce, Kurt's boyfriend pillow.
Kurt took a moment to calm himself down. His heart was still racing. His eyes travelled over Sebastian and what he saw surprised him.
Sebastian's skin was rosy and his hair was flat - but not as messed up as it got when he pulled at it in his sleep during a nightmare. A moist spot on Bruce's one-armed shirt matched the glistening corner of his mouth. Sebastian seemed completely peaceful and at ease, lost in his dreams. The sight made Kurt well up a little.
Slowly, so as to not startle his boyfriend, he crossed the room and sat down carefully on the bed.
The dip of the mattress stirred Sebastian from his sleep. He blinked his eyes open and shut them again, groaning a little. It was barely daylight and the room was still mostly dark. He slowly opened his eyes again and let them adjust. With the help of the light filtering in from the other room, he could make out the body sitting next to him.
He rubbed his eyes and moved a little.
"Kurt?" he asked confused. "What time is it?"
Kurt winced. "It's almost seven. I fell asleep while we were working on today's presentation. I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to! I swear I just fell asleep, that's all that happened. Are you okay? Did it take you ages to go to sleep? I am so so sorry. I didn't get any messages from you but maybe the hotel had bad reception, I don't know, or-" Kurt stopped his waterfall of worries as he realised Sebastian was still too sleepy to catch up with him.
"Are you okay?" he rephrased.
Sebastian moved Bruce away from himself, dumping him unceremoniously on the floor, and rubbed his eyes again. He noticed the wet feeling on his cheek and wiped it off.
"Hmm? Oh yeah...just-" he yawned. "Sorry." He couldn't remember the last time he'd slept so deeply, and it was taking longer than usual for his brain to wake up. Finally, the tension in Kurt's voice got through to him and he did his best to jolt his brain into action.
"I'm really okay," he said again, a little clearer this time and shuffled to sit up, reaching blindly for the night stand light. Once the soft glow illuminated the room he saw Kurt properly. He looked awful.
"Are you okay?" Sebastian asked. "You look like you've barely slept."
Kurt shrugged. "We worked until late and then I slept in my clothes on top of my notes. I woke up at six and when I realised I'd been out all night I got up and came home as fast as I could." He looked at Sebastian guiltily. "I was so worried. I promised that I'd be back before you went to sleep and I honestly intended to keep that promise! It completely took me by surprise. I never nodded off before, not even when I was working three jobs in between classes!"
"Kurt," Sebastian said, placing a hand on his boyfriend's hand to stop his rambling. "It's okay."
Kurt paused and stared at Sebastian with his mouth open in surprise. "Aren't you angry with me?"
Sebastian yawned again and shook his head. "When you didn't come home I figured work had run on...I did have a moment of panic, but then Elliott texted and it distracted me. He had had a bad day and needed to chat, and we kinda helped each other through it...and then Bruce and I had an affair without you."
Sebastian winked at him with a cheeky grin, and patted the bed next to him. Kurt moved closer and nuzzled into Sebastian's side. Sebastian wrapped his arm around him and Kurt felt himself relax. Sebastian was still soft and sleep-warm and Kurt finally let go of the tension in his shoulders.
"I did worry a little," Sebastian added, kissing Kurt's head, "but I knew if you were in trouble you'd call. So I just figured you were caught up with helping Tristan...how did it go?"
"Well, I found out why he's always so stressed," Kurt started. "He's basically doing two full time jobs…"
He told Sebastian about their talk and the work Tristan had been saddled with.
"...It's completely unfair, but I'm afraid if I tell anyone I might jeopardise his job," Kurt finished. "So I offered to help him instead."
He looked up at Sebastian. "I'm sorry you panicked, but I'm glad you had someone to turn to," he said honestly. Even if it wasn't me, he added in his head.
"It was only momentary," Sebastian smiled. "And...in then end I was okay. I slept, all the way through...no nightmares, nothing." He grinned.
Kurt smiled, his worries about his boyfriend finally at ease. Then, he sighed. "I should probably shower, put something else on, and meet Tristan at the office."
"Maybe have a little nap before you get ready?" Sebastian asked, tightening his grip around Kurt so that he didn't move. "No offence baby, but you look shattered. What time do you need to be at the office?"
"Mmm...the meeting is not until eleven thirty," Kurt said, sighing. He cuddled closer and peeked up at Sebastian. "But catering is arriving at ten and I know Tristan is probably going to be there at nine to walk his boss through the presentation and I have a lot of other work still left on my desk…"
He felt his eyes droop as he talked. The combination of the long night and the comforting warmth of his boyfriend made him realise how sleepy he still was. He knew Sebastian was right. He was exhausted, and it really wouldn't help anyone if he arrived at Vogue looking like he had partied all night. He smiled up at his boyfriend. "Maybe I'll sleep for a little bit. Will you be my Bruce?" he asked.
Sebastian smiled and nodded. "Always."
Kurt stood up and took off his clothes before joining Sebastian under the covers. Sebastian reached over and turned off the side light. He slid back down so his head was resting on the pillows and rolled over so he could wrap himself around Kurt.
"Sleep for an hour, and then you can meet him at the office at nine," Sebastian whispered, kissing Kurt's shoulder.
Kurt was glad Sebastian had convinced him to sleep a bit more. When he got up over an hour later, he felt a lot more alive than he had before. He showered quickly, and by the time he got out, Sebastian had made him breakfast and everything just seemed perfect.
Of course, Kurt should have known such moments never lasted long.
When he arrived at Vogue, Tristan was already there, hunched over a laptop and a stack of print-outs. He looked every bit as tired as Kurt had felt that morning, and Kurt doubted very much that Tristan had taken his advice to go back to bed. He was so out of it that he hadn't noticed his phone buzzing next to his hand.
"Tristan?" Kurt asked, knocking the open door of the conference room with his knuckles. "Tristan?"
His colleague sat up with a start and looked at him with wide eyes. His hair looked a little wild (and yet, Kurt begrudgingly noticed, still managed to look stylish).
"I'm up!" Tristan said. "I'm here!" He finally noticed his phone and quickly picked it up. "Roy! Yes! No, I was just-" He glanced at Kurt and grimaced, "taking another call, I'm so sorry. Yes, I'm already here. Yes, I got the- Well, I ordered you a taxi, so-"
He shook his head and lowered his phone. "You know, just for once, I wish that man would let me finish a sentence," he said.
"Are you okay?" Kurt asked. "Can I get you a coffee? Catering won't be here for another half hour."
"Oh Kurt, a coffee would be fabulous, thank you," Tristan said looking at him as if he was Father Christmas, The Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny all wrapped up wearing a Boss suit.
Kurt smiled at him and backed out of the room.
While he waited for the coffee to brew, an idea came to him. He checked the small fridge and smiled. They were in luck. One of the art directors had celebrated her birthday the day before, and as hardly anyone at Vogue ever ate, there were left-over danishes. He put one on a plate, poured a coffee and carried them both through to the conference room.
"I'm guessing you didn't eat breakfast?" Kurt suggested, and set the plate and mug down next to his colleague. He was met with a thankful moan.
"Oh Kurt, I love you! That's twice you've saved my life now," Tristan said reaching for the coffee. He inhaled the scent for a moment and then took a sip, sighing in relief.
Kurt grinned. "It's okay, I'll just add it to the list of favours you owe me...You know, for when you go back to San Francisco and start clogging up my phone lines again," Kurt teased and trapped his tongue between his teeth.
Tristan shook his head. "I am forever in your debt, and will never harass you again!" He took a large bite out of his pastry and closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying it.
"Uh huh," Kurt said playfully. "I'll believe that when I see it."
He winked and turned to leave the room but as he reached the doorway, Tristan called him back again.
"Hey, Kurt? I really am grateful," he said sincerely. "I don't know how I'd have got all this done without you."
Kurt smiled at him. "You're welcome," he said. "I just hope it all pays off."
Tristan visibly hesitated. "So...what did your boyfriend say? Was he mad?" he finally asked. "Do you need me to talk to him and convince him that nothing happened…?"
Kurt shook his head. "He wasn't mad at me. He trusts me. But sometimes, he has trouble sleeping, and I promised I'd be there for him, you know?" Kurt sighed and shook his head, his smile fading a little. He still blamed himself for Sebastian's moment of panic, even if it hadn't been too bad.
"I'm sorry," Tristan said softly. "Was he alright?"
"He had a good night," Kurt said, in a decisive voice that made it clear he wasn't going to divulge any more information.
Tristan let out a relieved sigh. "I'm glad. I would have hated to have messed things up between you two. You helped me a lot, Kurt."
"That's what I am here for," Kurt replied, and left to carry out his usual morning tasks.
Half an hour later, he had a table set up in the conference room ready for the catering delivery, and Tristan was standing by Daphne at the reception desk, anxiously waiting for his boss to turn up so that they could go through the presentation.
"He isn't here yet?" Kurt asked, walking up to them.
"Trust me, you'd know if he was," Tristan said darkly.
Isabelle came in, breezing by in a cloud of Stella McCartney, holding a cellphone to her ear and talking rapidly in Italian. She looked stressed.
Kurt frowned. "I should go check on her," he said, stopping at his desk to pick up his tablet.
As he followed Isabelle, he could hear Tristan start up a bit of smalltalk with Daphne, and just before Kurt reached Isabelle's office, he heard Daphne laugh. It startled him; he had never heard her laugh before.
Isabelle hung up her phone as he entered and immediately started telling Kurt about some new issue that was plaguing her. Every now and then, he looked over his shoulder at the entrance. Roy was running late. Kurt silently hoped he wouldn't blame Tristan for it, but knew he probably would.
"I'll tell you what Kurt," Isabelle said looking harassed. "I'll be glad once this is all over! What a night-"
A Skype message popped up on her laptop and she shrieked. "Oh no, he's here, and I'm not done with my stuff yet. Why is he already here, the meeting isn't until eleven thirty!"
"He wanted Tristan to-" Kurt started, but Isabelle shushed him.
"Please go see to him, Kurt, I don't want to talk to him yet. I need at least one Advil and a coffee first. Go, go!" She made a shooing motion with her hands.
Kurt nodded, got up and left the room, bracing himself.
"-And you can stop smooth-talking the receptionist, it's not like she's gonna fall for your London accent shit," he heard Roy say as he approached. "I doubt you even ever had a girl at all with the way you look. Don't you know how combs work?"
Roy turned to Daphne. "How about some coffee, honey? I'm sure they don't pay you just to look pretty around here."
Kurt clenched his jaw. "I'm in charge of that," he said coldly, knowing that Daphne was, in fact, taking a dual degree in design and business administration and was only at the reception desk because they lacked office space - which was actually Roy's fault, as his department was getting the extra money.
Roy turned to look at him, and Kurt could tell by the twist of his lips that he did not like what he saw. Kurt had seen that look a lot of times in his life. The bad coffee it is, he thought vengefully.
"This way, please," Kurt said, smiling tersely. He caught Tristan's eyes over Roy's shoulder. Tristan offered him an apologetic look.
Kurt lead them to the conference room and excused himself to make some new coffee - though he planned to just rebrew the old batch of earlier and only serve it to Roy.
"I'm sorry about that," he offered Daphne on his way to the kitchen. "I am told he's always like that."
"I don't mind," Daphne said, her usual morose tone back now that Tristan was gone. "Guys are like that. Why did he say Tristan needed a girlfriend? He's gay, isn't he?"
Kurt rolled his eyes. "I'm not sure Roy cares enough to notice - or care. Tristan's not from London, either. But Roy probably prefers the idea of Tristan he has made up in his own mind."
Daphne sighed. " Straights ..."
For once, Kurt didn't feel the need to remind her not to generalise.
Catering arrived, and Kurt helped the delivery woman carry the trays into the conference room. The food looked exquisite and he secretly hoped there'd be some left-overs for him...there was a particularly scrumptious looking smoked salmon and cream-cheese sandwich that had caught his eye.
Tristan and Roy were deep into the presentation. Tristan was trying to explain what they had planned for him to say, but Roy's eye kept wandering to the food table - and the woman laying it out.
The next time she passed him with her hands full, he pretended to stretch, brushing her backside with his hand. Tristan didn't notice, but Kurt did. He looked at the woman and held out his hands for the platter she was carrying so she could slap Roy's face, but she shook her head in a tired gesture. Not wanting to embarrass her, Kurt let it pass, but he was starting to get more annoyed with Roy. Who did he think he was, coming in here with his attitude and his insults and his groping?
Thankfully, the last of the catering was now inside and Kurt walked the delivery woman to the door so he could apologise out of Roy's earshot. Vogue had a reputation to uphold, and he felt responsible.
When he returned, Roy and Tristan were arguing.
"So how do I explain those costs then? What if someone asks?" Roy demanded.
Kurt saw the chart and knew at once what he was talking about. Then we tell them about your weekend splash in the Four Seasons, he thought grimly, but Tristan had made him swear to keep that between them. It was listed under 'various expenses', as were Roy's golf trips.
"Nobody will ask," Tristan assured his boss. "It's not the point of the presentation."
"Well, if they do, you'd better have something up your sleeve, Trent."
"Tristan," Kurt corrected him sharply.
Roy frowned. "That's what I said. Who are you, anyway? Don't you have coffee to tend to? Or a kitchen to clean?"
Kurt raised an eyebrow. "I am Kurt Hummel, Ms Wright's PA."
"Oh, good, Kurt, you've covered introductions," Isabelle said, coming in with her tablet, a mug of coffee and a large purse. "Then we just need to wait for Mr Madison and our communications coach and we can get started. Kurt, could you please go to the front desk and send them our way when they arrive?
Roy grinned at him, no doubt pleased over Kurt's dismissal.
Joke's on you, asshole, Kurt thought. I'm just glad not to be in the room with you.
Kurt took up a seat next to Daphne and pulled out his phone. He had a text from Sebastian.
From (11:05)
Chin up baby, hope the meeting goes well. I love you 3
To: (11:27)
Tristan's boss is a total jerk! I have so much to tell you later xxx
Then, Kurt saw Chase arrive and quickly put his phone away. The coach from HR arrived a couple of minutes later and Kurt led them straight in to the conference room (with a warning to Chase to only use the left coffee thermos). He closed the glass doors behind them and glanced at Tristan as he did so. Tristan was twiddling his fingers nervously and his leg was jutting up and down under the desk. Kurt smiled at him reassuringly and backed away from the door, hoping his new friend would be okay in there.
Kurt's morning seemed to drag. He had a list of things to do but he just couldn't focus. Instead, he texted Sebastian a bit more until his boyfriend's class started and he couldn't reply anymore. Every now and then, Kurt would pick up some files and walk from his desk to Isabelle's office, just to have an excuse to pass their room and peek inside. At some point, Tristan's boss was standing up, clicking through their presentation. Tristan was quietly talking to Chase, no doubt filling him in on what the slides were actually supposed to mean as opposed to what Roy was saying. Later, as Isabelle was talking, Kurt spotted Roy scrolling through his phone. Not realising his back was to the glass wall, he was browsing buzzfeed articles and quizzes.
Once the presentation was over and they took a break, Tristan made a dive for the exit - clearly in need of a cigarette. Kurt stood up to follow him out, eager to know how it had gone, but Isabelle collared him as she passed his desk.
"A word please?" she asked as politely as she could, though Kurt heard the underlying tone. With a glance at Chase, who shook his head, Kurt followed her instead.
"Close the door, please, Kurt," Isabelle said, letting herself fall into her chair.
"Is...everything okay?" Kurt asked carefully.
Isabelle closed her eyes and rubbed her index and middle fingers against her temples. "Honestly…" she whispered. "I don't know what it is about him, but I really hate that guy," she mumbled. "-and it's not just because he's out for my job...there's just something about him that doesn't sit right."
Kurt bit his lip.
"I'm in there, and it's like...I'm listening to him talk and all I can think is...he's full of shit! The presentation is well-prepared and seems reasonable...but everything he's coming out with doesn't match it. He keeps going off on tangents and Tristan, the poor guy, he keeps trying to help but I don't really think even he understands...Maybe I'm biased," she concluded. "I mean they are trying to turf me out."
She shook her head.
Kurt bit his lip again, feeling torn. He'd promised Tristan he would keep his secret, but listening to Isabelle now, it was clear she though them both incompetent and he couldn't let that happen.
"You're not biased," he said quietly. He threw a glance over his shoulder and spotted Roy talking to Daphne again. He was leaning over her desk and from her body language it was clear that she felt uncomfortable. "Roy's an asshole and he doesn't have a clue about what's going on. I can assure you however that Tristan does."
As quickly and discreetly as possible, he told Isabelle everything Tristan had told him; from the golf trips and holidays with his 'contacts' to forcing the work of three people on to Tristan, and everything in between. He told her how he'd spent the entire day yesterday helping Tristan finish the presentation, including the barrage of interruptions and amendments by Roy.
Isabelle sat quietly while Kurt talked, her expression becoming more and more stoney the longer he went on.
"And then this morning he turned up almost an hour late, managed to insult Daphne, Tristan and me within the space of thirty seconds, and sexually assaulted the catering girl when she was setting up the food."
Isabelle held up her hand and Kurt fell silent. His fists were clenched tight and he was shaking with rage.
"Okay," she said calmly, reaching for her desk phone. "Here's what's going to happen. You are going to go to the bathroom, calm yourself down and then go out there and rescue Daphne. Tell her to take her lunch break now and reroute incoming calls to voicemail. Then tell Ms Thompson and Chase to come in here."
Kurt bit his lip and nodded.
"And then, and I'm sorry about this, I need you to keep Roy and Tristan both distracted while we talk and make a few calls. You can sit in the conference room with them and help yourself to the food...I saw the salmon sandwiches and know that's your kind of thing." Her eyes twinkled just a little.
Kurt pulled up the corner of his mouth in a half-smile. "What are you going to do?" he asked warily.
"Well, I am not going to put up with this," Isabelle said darkly. "I know people seem to think I'm incapable as I'm just a silly female , that I rely on you all too much and I'm a bad leader - but that is why I have to do this. Please go do what I've asked and leave this to me."
Kurt stood up, his heart sinking to his feet. He'd really blown it.
"Tristan really does do a good job, I really don't want to get him in trouble…" he pleaded quietly.
Isabelle waved her hand, already pressing a number on her phone.
As Kurt entered the conference room, Tristan was still downstairs. Isabelle had called Chase into her office next, so Roy was sitting on his own and was playing with his phone.
Kurt raised his chin and put on a professional smile.
"More coffee?" he asked.
Roy scoffed. "God, no! That sludge is awful!"
"Really ?" Kurt said innocently, pouring a cup for himself from the fresh thermos, "it's a fine Italian roast."
"Well, then it must be your brewing," Roy scoffed. "I'm glad you're not my PA."
"So am I!" Kurt said sweetly, taking a sip of his coffee.
"Where is everyone?" Tristan asked, coming in. "I thought we said ten minutes?"
"She's holed up in her office with HR and that pompous fag," Roy scoffed.
Kurt raised an eyebrow and exchanged a look with Tristan. "Mr Madison is one of our top designers," Kurt said icily.
Roy visibly rolled his eyes. "Is there anywhere I can take a leak around here?"
"Down the hall to the left and it's the second door on the right," Kurt said as politely as he could. "I can show you if you like?"
"No thanks, I don't need some twink staring at my junk."
Kurt narrowed his eyes and smiled thinly.
As soon as his boss was out of earshot, Tristan turned to Kurt. "I'm so sorry," he offered. "It didn't go very well and he's looking for someone to take it out on."
Kurt shook his head and walked over to the table. "Don't apologise. It's not your fault."
"I know, but I-" Tristan stopped talking and frowned. "What are you doing?"
"Setting up a conference call," Kurt mumbled. "In case he needs to rant some more."
"A conference call? To where?" Tristan asked.
"Isabelle's office."
Tristan frowned. "Please don't. Kurt, I beg you, he'll fire me for real and I-"
"Isabelle already knows," Kurt confessed.
"Wh- what?" Tristan whispered.
Kurt was about to explain when Roy burst into the room, looking angry. Hoping to be inconspicuous, Kurt pressed the number for Isabelle's desk. A small green light went on.
"Apparently, the feedback round is cancelled," Roy announced. "Her royal bitchiness has required my presence in her office. What's this about, Trent?"
Tristan paled. "I d-don't know," he stammered quietly.
"What did you do ?" Roy said stepping towards them menacingly. "What the fuck did you tell her?"
"Nothing!" Tristan said. "Nothing, I-..."
Roy turned his eyes on Kurt, who crossed his arms over his chest.
"The truth," Kurt said coldly.
"And what would you know about that, boy?" Roy demanded.
"More than you do about doing the job you are paid for," Kurt replied. "Or the names of your employees."
Roy shook his head angrily. "Listen, I don't know what he told you-" he gestured at Tristan, clearly at this point not daring to make a guess at his correct name, "and I don't care. As far as I am concerned, he no longer works for me. I want to know what that cunt thinks of me."
"I'm sure she'll tell you. Right after you explain the golf club membership, the presents for your future ex-wives, and all the business trips on Vogue expenses," Kurt said.
Roy turned on Tristan. "You told him?"
Tristan opened and closed his mouth like a goldfish, no sound was coming out. He felt utterly betrayed and backed into a corner.
This was it, his life was over. He'd be fired from this job and probably blacklisted against every magazine. He'd be lucky to get a job with TV Guide.
"I-I-" he stammered.
Kurt felt horrible, but it was too late to take back. From the corner of his eye, he could see everyone in in Isabelle's office sitting around the phone.
"We would have found out eventually," Kurt said. "No matter how good Tristan tried to hide it- on your instructions- eventually stuff would have come out. Someone else would have told on you."
"Like Denise..." Tristan mumbled, understanding suddenly dawning on him. "Denise, your PA! The day you fired her for good you told me to re-do that month's billing because she had messed it up! She was on to you, wasn't she?" He rose from his seat. "You bastard. What did you make me cover up? What?!" He had nothing to lose, and only moral satisfaction to gain.
The green light on the conference phone went out, and Kurt hoped it meant Isabelle had disconnected to contact Roy's old PA. Chase was coming their way. He opened the glass door of the conference room.
"Ms Wright will see you now," he announced, his face neutral.
"This will have consequences," Roy spat at Tristan and pointed at him menacingly before backing out of the room.
Tristan sank back into his seat, feeling weak. "Oh my god," he whispered.
"Tristan," Chase said softly. "Please don't worry, we are going to sort this, okay?"
Tristan let out a choked sound half way between a sob and a laugh.
Chase looked at them again before following Roy back into Isabelle's office.
" Kurt !" Tristan cried accusingly. "What the hell? I specifically asked you not to say anything. How could you?"
"I'm sorry!" Kurt let out. "I didn't mean to, but Isabelle...she was about to throw you both out with the bath water! I told her because I didn't want her to think you were incompetent!"
Tristan shook his head, "and now I'm probably out anyway! He is going to ruin me! I'm gonna have to go back to England...I'll never get another publishing job here."
He ran his hand through his hair. "All that work..." he whispered. "For nothing."
Kurt felt close to tears, but wanted desperately to offer his friend some hope. "We'll find you something. I'll help! I promise I won't rest until-"
"You've already done enough, Kurt," Tristan said, getting up. "I need a smoke," he announced, and was about to head out as they heard shouting from Isabelle's office. It was muted, but it was clear that Roy was very angry. He pulled open the door and stormed out.
"My lawyer will hear of this! You haven't seen the last of me!" he shouted, grabbed his coat from the wardrobe and stalked towards the exit. As Roy blew passed him, Tristan backed up against the glass wall of the conference room, his stomach sucked in.
Kurt looked at Tristan, his eyes wide.
Tristan stared back at Kurt. His heart was pounding in his chest. He had no idea what to think. What was going to happen now?
"Tristan," Isabelle said gently. "Would you come in here, please? We need to talk with you."
"You too, Kurt," Chase added.
Kurt could feel his heart beat in his chest. Was he in trouble too? For helping Tristan cover everything up with the presentation? He rose from his seat and followed Tristan, feeling sick to his stomach. What would he do if he lost his job as well? He'd still have Satire, but his resumée would be shot. Kurt immediately reprimanded himself. This was all a lot worse for Tristan, who didn't have a backup job.
"Please sit down," Isabelle said.
They both did as she asked. Tristan's backside was barely on the seat when he started talking.
"Please, I know it's bad, I know I did wrong but please, please don't fire me. I need this job, I don't have anything else. I'm sorry, I'm so sor-"
Isabelle held up her hand and he fell silent, his heart caught in his throat.
"Tristan," Isabelle said gently. "It's us who should be apologising to you."
Tristan's mouth fell open, his heart sinking to his feet.
"Wh-"
"Isabelle is right, Tristan," Ms Thompson said. "The treatment you have received at the hands of one of our senior executives is unacceptable and I would like to assure you that we will be taking this seriously."
Tristan swallowed. He could hear his blood rushing in his ears so much he wasn't sure he'd heard her correctly.
"Mr Davis has been suspended without pay pending an investigation based upon what we heard here today. We will need a formal statement from you, but his company credit card has been frozen and his system access has been revoked."
Tristan stared at her with his mouth hanging open, comprehension failing him. But...who would do the work?
"Naturally, if the investigation proves the allegations, we will need to reassign his position permanently...but in the interim, Isabelle and Chase have agreed to help you carry out the role alongside your own, if you are willing to accept? As I understand it you've been doing the job for over a year anyway...This way, you won't be shouldering the burden completely by yourself - and you will receive financial compensation for it."
Tristan turned to look at Kurt. Kurt looked back at him and pulled up his shoulders.
"I'm not fired?" Tristan asked, just to be sure.
"Are you crazy? I need you!" Isabelle said. "I know I've not been the easiest person to work with in the past and I used to make Kurt tell you I wasn't in my office, but it wasn't personal! I promise I won't do that anymore. We'll help, and get the SF office back on track."
"Me too," Kurt added. "Uh, as much as I can, of course." Then he looked at the woman from HR. "Would Tristan be eligible for the job for real? I mean, if his boss is fired?"
Ms Thompson smiled pleasantly at him. "He'd have to formally apply, and then we'd review his credentials," she replied. "But we'd certainly take into account that he's been unofficially filling the position already."
Tristan sucked in a huge breath and felt tears prickle his eyes. He closed them and let out a shaky breath.
He nodded. "I can do that, I love my job...I know that's a thing people say but I really do love it." He paused… "I'm really not fired?"
"No, you're not," Chase said, squeezing his shoulder.
"When are you flying back to San Francisco?" Ms Thompson asked.
"Tomorrow morning."
"Would you be willing to rearrange that and stay another day?" she continued. "I think it would be good for everyone if you can all sit down and put a plan of action together. Work out what you can hand over to the New York office and what you can keep in San Francisco."
For a moment, Tristan panicked, wondering what Roy would say. Then it hit him. No more Roy. Probably not ever. "Uh...yes, I think I can manage that," he mumbled, still a little dumbfounded.
Kurt hopped in his seat, feeling very pleased. He couldn't wait to tell Sebastian - and Gabrielle. Suddenly, the end of their work day could not come soon enough. "I'll rebook your flight," he offered, getting up.
"We did have this afternoon blocked out for the team building...but as I understand it you haven't slept," Isabelle said.
Tristan bit his lip.
"So maybe the two of you take the rest of the day off and catch your breath," Isabelle suggested.
Chase nodded. "Isabelle and I will take the afternoon to make plans and I'll clear my schedule for tomorrow morning to go over them with you." He looked from Kurt to Tristan. "But not too early. How does noon sound?"
"Great, but...I-I mean...I can probably come in earlier," Tristan rushed to say. "You really don't have to move everything around for me. If we're going to be working together it should be a two way street."
Isabelle looked at him like Christmas had come early. That was definitely not something she'd ever heard from Roy.
"Alright," Chase said smiling at him. "How about ten, then?"
"I'll be here," Tristan said immediately. He looked over at Kurt with a grin, his green eyes sparkling.
Kurt grinned back. Neither of them were fired. It called for a party, and he knew just the place.
