Monday-ing

Monday morning was living up to its reputation. The network had gone down shortly after Roy had arrived, two people had called in sick, three more were already complaining about headaches, and Tom had spent most of the morning being an asshole.

None of that had changed Roy's opinion of the job.

He still loved it.

He loved the people he worked with, the problems that landed on his desk, the satisfaction of taking a mess and gradually turning it into something manageable. He even loved the old chair in his office, despite the fact that one of the armrests was permanently loose and the cushioning had long since stopped being what anyone could reasonably call comfortable.

It was his chair.

More importantly, this was his office.

The thought made the situation with Tom hurt all over again.

Roy's morning had been a constant stream of interruptions. Every time he thought he'd finally found a quiet five minutes to work through the network problem, another issue appeared.

Helena had come by his office three times. There was none of the warm, genial familiarity Roy had grown used to from his mentor. That didn't mean she'd stopped liking him or respecting him. Roy knew better than to take her mood personally. There was simply too much work to do, and everything seemed determined to get in the way of doing it.

"I can't find the last quarterlies," Helena said during her third visit, stress written plainly across her face. "Can you get someone on that?"

"The network's down," Roy replied. "We'll pull the hard copies. When do you need them?"

"Now, Roy." Her tone was sharp enough to cut through the room. "If I say I need something, that means now."

Roy nodded.

"Got it."

There was no point arguing. They'd worked together for years. Roy knew Helena's moods well enough to understand what was happening beneath the irritation. She was under pressure, just like everyone else. Being in charge meant that every problem eventually found its way to her, whether it was technically her responsibility or not. By the end of the day, Roy fully expected a text message apologizing for the way she'd spoken to him. She'd sent plenty of those over the years. He'd always told her the same thing.

Don't worry about it.

And he meant it.

In a strange way, Roy was actually glad he'd arrived early.

His original reason for coming in before everyone else had been completely different. He'd wanted to experiment with the wish, to see if he could somehow control when it activated and, more importantly, who it affected. That plan had gone spectacularly wrong when his latest girlfriend had appeared in the parking lot.

But arriving early had still given him an advantage. Roy had spotted the network problem before most of the staff had even arrived. By the time everyone else was settling into their morning routines, he'd already diagnosed the likely cause and had people working on a solution.

It had taken several hours, but gradually the office had begun to recover. By lunchtime, the worst of it was over.

Sitting back in his chair after eating two frozen burritos from the corner store at the end of the block, Roy finally let himself relax. The tension that had been sitting between his shoulder blades since seven that morning began to loosen. For the first time all day, there was enough quiet for him to think.

His gaze drifted around the office. Soon, he might not be there. Tom had given him a timeline. Either Roy found a way out of the situation, or Tom would make sure Roy's professional life was destroyed. There was no guarantee that Roy could pull a solution together before the deadline.

And if he couldn't?

What happened to everyone here?

Tom clearly intended to make a move for his position. Roy had little doubt about that. Yet Tom had spent most of the morning sitting at his desk, staring at his phone while everyone else scrambled to keep the company functioning. If only Tom applied himself to his actual work with the same enthusiasm he'd applied to ruining Roy's life, he might already have been further along in his career.

But that was neither here nor there. There was still a chance. Roy could pull this one out of the fire. He'd just have to be smart, and he'd have to be lucky.

The girlfriends simplified things in ways he still wasn't entirely comfortable admitting. Elaine, Michelle, Zara and Jessica all wanted him to move into Jessica's house with them. Sharing the expenses would certainly make things easier, especially if he ended up unemployed.

But Roy didn't want to sit around all day. He wanted to work. More specifically, he wanted to work here.

This wasn't just a paycheque. Roy had spent years building his career. He'd trained many of the people who now worked around him. Watching those employees grow, take on more responsibility and become better at what they did gave him a sense of accomplishment that was difficult to describe.

Maybe that was what he was most afraid of losing. Not the money. Not the title. The feeling that he'd done something worthwhile.

Walking out of his office, he began to stroll through the cubicles. Someone laughed near the break room. A pair of employees were comparing notes at one of the desks. Another person was carrying a fresh mug of coffee back towards their workstation. The smell drifted through the room, warm and familiar.

The panic of the morning was gone. People were smiling again. The chaos of scrambling for workarounds, chasing deadlines and trying not to strangle one another had faded into the normal rhythm of the office. It was almost peaceful.

Roy loved it here. He was going to miss it.

A moment later, two small hands settled over his eyes.

Roy jumped.

"Guess who?"

He smiled before the voice had even finished the question.

"Someone I love?"

The hands disappeared.

"Okay, that's cheating."

Roy turned around. The young woman from the parking lot stood behind him, grinning. She looked exactly as she'd looked that morning, although the backpack was gone now. Her short black hair was slightly mussed, and there was something almost ridiculously cheerful about her expression.

"I'm sorry I didn't text you," she said. "I know I said I would."

She gave him an exaggeratedly guilty look.

"But I wanted to surprise you."

Roy couldn't help smiling. The morning had been so chaotic that she had been pushed to the back of his mind. Not forgotten, exactly. More like something he'd deliberately moved to a lower priority while dealing with everything else.

Now she was standing in front of him. And the guilt came rushing back. She smiled at him with complete trust. She loved him. She believed he was her boyfriend. She believed everything between them was real. She had no idea that Roy had met her only that morning, no idea that the relationship she'd apparently shared with him existed only because magic had rewritten reality around them.

And Roy was about to use that.

His stomach tightened at the thought.

He'd spent the entire morning telling himself that what he planned to do was necessary. If she became intimate with him, the wish would eventually release her. She would be free to return to the life she'd actually been living before the magic had changed everything. That was the justification. It was even true.

But it didn't make the choice feel any better.

The woman hadn't done anything wrong. She hadn't asked for this. She certainly hadn't asked Roy to turn her into a stepping stone towards another woman.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

Roy blinked.

"Nothing."

She tilted her head.

"You look like you're thinking too hard."

"I've had a busy morning."

Her smile returned. For a moment, Roy simply looked at her.

She was so young. Not a child. At least twenty years old, an adult with her own life, her own choices and her own plans. But compared with Roy, she still seemed impossibly young. She was carefree in a way he hadn't been for years, with an enthusiasm for life that made him feel older just standing beside her.

And she trusted him.

"Come on," he said, taking her hand in his.

Her eyebrows rose.

"Where are we going?"

He smiled.

"I've got just the place for us."

Her grin immediately returned.

"Now you're talking."

Roy grabbed his jacket. The guilt remained. So did the plan.

And, for better or worse, Roy was going through with it.