Page 155 of My Brother’s Best Friends Entanglement

“Lex. Please.” Zachary's voice is like a temporary balm and I want to bathe in it. But I just smile at them one last time and I turn around and walk away.

FORTY-FOUR

Rhys

My meeting with the review panel is about as painful and boring as I knew it would be, which is quite the combination really.

I sit through the reading of the allegations the way I'd sit through any routine appointment, spine straight, hands still, not a single thing given away on my face.

Physically threatening a colleague.

Physically assaulting said colleague.

An undisclosed relationship with a colleague, which is not, on its own, against policy I've ever signed, except that I held a counselling and guidance role in her candidacy, and she and the colleague I allegedly threatened are competing for the same position, which makes it, in their words, a substantial conflict of interest.

I let them get all the way to the end of it before anyone asks if I have anything to say.

“Have you ever had any other complaint about me?” I ask first. “In the four years I've been here.”

The HR manager, Carol, answers. “No. In fact, Rhys, your performance and conduct have, until now, been uniformly excellent.”

I nod.

No surprise there.

“And Mr Pedler's fellowship application. Can he or anyone in this room point to a single way it suffered because of my relationship with Ms Riley?”

“He did lodge a complaint. But based on your meeting notes and recorded correspondence, your handling of his file was thorough. Appropriate. If anything, it's shown you've gone above and beyond.”

No shit. I might hate the shitbag, but I wasn't ruining my reputation on sabotaging him. He was always capable of doing that himself.

I continue. “And Ms Riley. Did she receive any favouritism from me at any point in her candidacy? I'm not even referring to documented instances. I mean has there been even a single accusation of favouritism towards her? Other than from Mr Pedler.”

Silence, this time, long enough to answer the question on its own. “No,” Carol says finally.

“Right,” I say with the control I've mastered over the years. “First, I'll expect the information that you've just told me will be formally recorded in the report that comes out of this. Second, the incident with Mr Pedler was personal. It had nothing to do with either of our professional roles, and it didn't take place on university grounds. Third, I hit him because he was standing in front of Ms Riley's family, her colleagues, her supervisors, verbally abusing and harassing her, and I have no intention of apologising for that. If you were going to discipline me for it, then I suggest you look just as hard at his conduct while you're at it.”

Nobody moves.

“Finally,” I reach into my jacket and pull out a letter and set it on the table, “to remove any possibility of a conflict of interest that may affect Ms Riley's application for the Hargreaves fellowship, or any other applications or opportunities that come out of her time here, I'm rendering my resignation. Effective on receipt.” I check my watch. “Two thirty-nine, this afternoon.”

The protests start before I've even sat back down.

“But Rhys, we haven't finished the review. We understand these are extenuating circumstances, but there's a process, and it takes...”

“I don't need more time to know I don't want to work here anymore.” I stand, straighten my jacket, the calmest I've felt in days. “And the longer I stay, the more damage I do to Ms Riley's reputation just by being associated with it. That's something I won't tolerate, no matter how it looks on my file.”

“I have six weeks of accrued leave, two weeks can be used to cover my notice period,” I continue. “My cases have all been handed over and a message will be going out to every student and colleague I've worked with, letting them know I'm available as a reference if they need one.”

“I wish the department well. It's good work, what happens in this office.” I clear my throat, finally realising I'm about to leave this building for the last time. “I am proud of what I've built here, and the work I've done.”

I've made it to my car with a single box under one arm when I hear her shout my name.

I set the box on the boot and wait, bracing myself to come face to face with her for the first time since the night at the bar a few days ago.

She's out of breath when she reaches me. “Are you insane?” It's closer to a yell than a question. “Why the hell did you resign?”

“Because I wanted to.”