Free The Fix by Nick Earls

works. I don’t think we want to lose all that.’
    I was writing ‘CONFIRMED’ on the whiteboard when Max Visser stopped in my doorway.
    â€˜Just checking,’ he said. ‘You’re coming tonight, right? It’ll be a good insight into the kind of work we do. The non-boring part, anyway. And who knows what kind of blog material you could get? Oh God, the karaoke stories I could tell you from trips to Shanghai. I can just imagine Mister Park tonight putting his heart and soul into I’ve Never Been to Me or Wind Beneath My Wings. It’s really not to be missed.’
    He was keen, more than keen. He was my biggest and possibly only fan in the world. I couldn’t remember him suggesting before that I might be part of dinner, but it wasn’t an Asterix re-heat on a camp stove. I wasn’t going to say no.
    * * *
    BEN WAS ALONE at Terroir when I got there. I had gone home to put in some more work on a blog, and arrived back in the city at close to seven-thirty.
    â€˜I’m just bagging the table,’ he said, sitting there lazily, low in his seat with his legs stretched out. ‘Max and Vincent have gone to pick the Korean guys up in a cab at the Stamford Plaza.’ He seemed to want to show me that he was blasé about the surroundings, about the whole occasion. He sat with his back to the windows – full of the lights of the Story Bridge – and ignored his water glass, which was frosted with condensation. I assumed Vincent was the client.
    â€˜But that’s only a few blocks away, the Stamford Plaza.’
    â€˜Well, it’s not as if we can make our guests walk . . .’ There was sarcasm in the way he said it, though I wasn’t sure if it was directed at the expectations of the guests or my ignorance of how they should be treated. ‘Not brilliant for our green credentials, is it? Maybe we’ll get the cab company to plant a tree. We’re so full of shit sometimes. You’ve probably noticed that already.’ It wasn’t a game I planned to be sucked into playing, not yet anyway. He smiled when I didn’t respond.‘Ha. You have noticed, obviously. We should get you a drink. You are drinking, I assume? I’m expecting the Koreans to get shit-faced on Scotch, but maybe that’s a racist stereotype.’
    He explained that this was the firm’s first Korean project, or at least the first time one of the firm’s clients had a real chance to do some serious business with Korea. The client created software for toll roads.
    â€˜I could explain how it works,’ he said, ‘but both of our lives are far too short for that, and I’d be grateful if you didn’t even pretend to give a shit.’
    â€˜I think I can manage that.’
    â€˜We’d like to do something in Korea,’ he said, making it sound as if he called the shots, and possibly from a jacuzzi somewhere amidships on the corporate jet. ‘We can cover Japan and Max speaks passable Chinese, but we don’t have a Korean speaker. Luckily, this time one of the Koreans, the junior one, speaks pretty good English.’
    He had forgotten about my drink already, but I didn’t need it.
    I mentioned that Max had suggested karaoke was likely later, and he said, ‘Max is always hoping someone’ll suggest fucking karaoke.’ Then, in a Japanese accent, he corrected himself. ‘Karaoke. Half my genes gave the world that artform.’
    â€˜Oh, be proud. It’s a great leveller, bringing down statesmen and businesspeople across Asia and beyond. I hope you’re up for it tonight.’
    â€˜You know me. I couldn’t carry a tune unless it was strapped to my back.’ He was still lounging in the seat, like someone watching TV.
    â€˜And yet somehow you managed to have your own band. What possessed you to tell Max Visser about Tokyo Speed Ponies?’
    â€˜He asked about our past.’ Ben shrugged.