New Opportunity

Daniel's office looked exactly as Craig remembered it. There were no balloons. No streamers. No fairy lights wound around the shelves. No pink salon chair occupying the middle of the room. Daniel's office had escaped whatever magical renovation had overtaken the rest of Craig's life.

A desk.

A computer.

Two filing cabinets.

A bookshelf with binders arranged in neat rows.

A couple of framed certificates on the wall.

Everything was ordinary.

Craig stood just inside the door, staring at the familiar room as though he'd stumbled into a museum exhibit from another life. The last time he'd been in here, he'd ended up on his knees in front of Daniel, after frantically repairing the ripped seam in his boss's trousers while Daniel continued a video call as though nothing unusual was happening. Craig had wanted the floor to open up and swallow him. Instead, Daniel had treated the whole thing as perfectly normal.

Management.

That word had lost most of its meaning somewhere along the way. Before Eros, before the gods and the reality that kept rewriting itself around him, management had meant leadership. Guidance. Supervision. Responsibility. It meant making decisions, solving problems and helping a team do its job. Now? Management meant dishes. Cookies. Laundry. Sewing. Pole dancing. Apparently salon appointments, too.

Craig looked down at himself. Red pleated skirt. Black top. Gold hoops. Lipstick. Eyeliner. Knee-high boots. And now long blonde hair arranged into an elaborate updo. Nothing made sense anymore.

"Wow." Daniel's voice pulled Craig out of his thoughts. His boss had looked up from the papers spread across his desk, his face breaking into a broad grin. "Gerald told me it was going to be magical, but he wasn't joking."

Craig touched an errant curl hanging beside his face.

"Thanks, I guess."

The words came out flat. Daniel either didn't notice or chose not to.

"Nonsense, Craig." He pushed away from his chair and came around the desk for a better look. "You're on your way up in this company. If you want to be an executive, you need to look like an executive."

Craig glanced down at his skirt.

"An executive with a short skirt and heels?"

"Of course!" Daniel laughed. "What else would you wear?" He circled Craig slowly, examining the result with the same concentration someone might use to inspect a new luxury car. "Honestly, if I didn't know better, I'd think I was having a meeting with a vice-president. Maybe someone even higher."

Craig blinked.

"Higher?"

"There are some big positions opening up." Daniel lowered his voice as though sharing a secret. "Positions the up-and-ups are already considering you for."

Craig didn't know what to say. The idea of becoming an executive sounded ridiculous. It also sounded like salvation. For days, he'd been trapped inside a life he had never chosen. Feminine clothes. Makeup. Perfume. Streaming contracts. A bizarre management position that seemed to have little connection to actual management.

But money was real. Promotions were real. Power, at least in the mundane corporate sense, was real. Maybe that was the way out. What if he kept climbing? What if he made enough money that none of the other changes mattered?

Craig's thoughts immediately began assembling the pieces. A larger salary. More influence. More control over his own schedule. Maybe enough wealth to buy whatever life he wanted once all of this was over.

He could stop streaming. He could move somewhere else. He could buy a house. He could fill the wardrobe with men's clothes again and make everyone else call it eccentric or unconventional or simply a rich man's personal style.

There was something reassuring about the idea. When you're wealthy enough, Craig thought, people stop calling your oddities problems. They call them eccentricities. Maybe money could buy back some freedom.

"I didn't know that," he said.

"That display of your talent yesterday really turned heads," Daniel said as he returned to the front of his desk and leaned against it.

Craig knew exactly which display Daniel meant. The fashion show. His stomach tightened.

"It got attention," Daniel continued. "A lot of attention. I was getting emails from people I'd never even spoken to before. Shareholders. Investors. Senior executives. Everyone wanted to know who you were and what else you could do."

Craig said nothing.

"I think if they don't promote you soon, some of those investors are going to start asking questions."

Questions. That sounded promising. Daniel smiled.

"Give it a few weeks. Maybe less. At this rate, I might be calling you boss before the end of the month."

Craig stared at him.

"That's... wow."

The words felt inadequate. Daniel seemed pleased by the reaction.

"But those are conversations for another day. Today we're celebrating." He clapped his hands together. "Well, you're celebrating. Employee of the Day!"

Craig forced a smile.

"Right."

"Fantastic."

Daniel rounded the desk and dropped back into his chair.

"You've still got your professional development this afternoon, of course. We've got to get you ready for that recital later this week."

Craig's stomach sank at the reminder. The pole recital. In front of executives and clients. He'd almost managed to forget about it.

"Right."

"But this morning, some of the investors wanted to take you out for brunch."

Craig blinked.

"Investors?"

Daniel nodded.

"They've sent a car."

"A car?"

"They were worried you might have too many mimosas to drive, I guess."

Craig wasn't sure whether that was a joke. Daniel checked his watch.

"They want you downstairs in..." His eyes widened. "Oh! Now!"

Craig glanced towards the office clock.

"Now?"

"You'd better hurry, or you'll be late."

Craig stood there for another second, trying to process what had just happened. Investors wanted to take him to brunch. Not warehouse workers. Not supervisors. Not coworkers.

Investors.

A few days earlier, he had been a lowly warehouse employee riding the bus to work and worrying about ordinary things like whether he could afford another takeout dinner. Now the people who put money into the company wanted to have brunch with him. The absurdity of it nearly made him laugh. He was going to brunch with investors.

Wearing heels.

Lipstick.

A blouse.

A skirt.

And hair that belonged on a fashion magazine cover.

Still...

Any change would be better than this. Craig smiled. It was not entirely forced.

"Thank you."

Daniel waved a hand dismissively.

"Go. They're waiting."

Craig turned and hurried towards the door, the sharp clicks of his heels following him across the floor.

"Craig?"

He looked back. Daniel was smiling.

"Enjoy yourself. You've earned it."

Craig nodded.

"I will."

The door closed behind him. Craig hurried down the hallway towards the elevator, purse tucked against his side, blonde hair bouncing lightly with each step. For the first time that morning, something inside him felt almost hopeful. Maybe this was the opening he'd been looking for. Maybe moving up in the company could give him enough money and influence to buy his way out of the life Eros had built around him. Maybe he could finally regain control.

The elevator doors opened. Craig stepped inside. As they closed, his reflection appeared in the mirrored wall. He barely recognised himself. But for once, Craig didn't look away.

"One thing at a time," he whispered.

The elevator began descending.

Investors first.

Escape later.