The next day isn’t great

The morning alarm beeped Jack into the next day. He hadn’t slept well, his dreams full of brimstone, lakes of fire and multi-headed beasts. His mood wasn’t helped when he looked over and found his wife’s side of the bed empty.

Even waking up, it was like they were in two different worlds.

Grumbling to himself he threw his legs out of bed and stumbled into his bathroom. Considering how exhausted he had felt from the plane ride, the warm water of the shower was a godsend to his aching body. He was allowed perhaps four minutes of blessed warmth before the heat suddenly cut out and he was greeted with a stinging icy spray.

Jack cursed like a sailor before switching the water off and drying himself. He was still grumbling about it when he passed the downstairs bathroom, Eve’s voice echoed out, singing off key in the shower and heedless of his own predicament.

His wife was sitting at the breakfast table, chewing on a piece of toast while reading through her phone. Dressed in her work attire she looked immaculate and stunning, but it was also a horrible reminder to him about what was coming should they divorce. As a lawyer Sharon would be ideally placed to find the most vicious coworker in her workforce to eviscerate him financially.

It also stung to see her smile so happily at her phone and texting whoever the sonofabitch was that she was fucking.

Her smile quickly evaporated into a frown when she noticed him.

Jack felt that he ought to mention her leaving him at the airport, but decided it was too early for an argument. Instead he asked, “Where’s Becca?”

Sharon huffed, as though having to speak with him was a great inconvenience. “She went to an early study session with her friends.”

“She’s going to burn herself out with how hard she’s been going.”

An eye roll. “Maybe she just wants to apply herself and not end up in an dead end job. Not all of us are happy living like that, you know.”

He felt a swell of contempt in his stomach. Oh how he wanted to verbally rip this woman into shreds, to shout every horrible thought he had ever had and really fuck up her perfect composure. But then Eve entered the kitchen and swallowed back the negativity.

Eve inherited Jack’s brunette hair, but was otherwise her mother’s image twenty years removed. Pouty lips, sparkling blue eyes, high cheekbones and a body that had been kept fit with regular exercise and dancing. She was a very attractive young woman and to Jack’s annoyance, confident enough to flaunt it.

“Good morning,” Sharon said, an expression of pleading in her eyes when she looked at their eldest. “How’d you sleep?”

Eve ignored them both and got herself a bowl of cereal. If there was any saving grace to his daughter’s behaviour, it was that she seemed to hold her mother in a similar level of contempt as she did him. When things went to shit with the marriage, he wasn’t sure what she would do. Probably follow whoever had the most money.

Awkwardness hung in the air and Jack decided to snatch up a piece of toast from his wife’s plate and make his exit. He felt his body sag with relief and his lungs fill with oxygen once he was out of that house.

The drive to work was slow, but relaxing in it’s own way with only the radio to interrupt the flow of his thoughts. By the time he pulled up to the employee parking his mind had mostly recharged itself.

His assistant Rhonda was waiting for him when he entered his office and as he stood in the doorway he took a second to admire her. Though she was in her early twenties, she never came to work without looking less than professional, today wearing a black pencil skirt and a white blouse that clung to her lithe form and contrasted nicely with her dark, ebony skin. Her hair, dark and curly as it was, was kept short and stylish, without being too flashy for the workplace.

She smiled when she noticed him. “Good morning Mr Thompson, how was the flight?”

“I think I’d rather have bamboo shoots jammed under my fingernails than get on another plane.”

That coaxed a snort of laughter from the woman. If nothing else, she seemed to have the same kind of dark humour as him and that did a lot for his emotional state.

“Well, you’re in luck, for now. No more flights for the rest of the month,” she handed him a file, “Though you’re due for a meeting with Mrs Holloway at 9:30.”

“Shit,” he glanced at his watch. “Ok, I’ve got a few minutes to get my game face on.” He took a deep breath, exhaled, rubbed at his temples exaggeratedly and then looked back at Rhonda. “How do I look?”

Her mouth twisted in a smile as she reached to adjust his tie a little. “You’ve totally got the George Clooney look down.”

“Ocean’s Eleven Clooney?”

A snicker. “Batman and Robin Clooney.”

“Well, fuck,” he laughed, “that’s a bad omen.”

Rhonda laughed as well. “Good luck Boss.”

He did a beeline from his office and over to Holloway’s. The woman was roughly the same age as him, and they had started out in the company around the same time, but while he was content to do what he did, she was an absolute shark with ambitions that rivalled Alexander the Great. He knocked twice and was called inside.

Edith Holloway sat at her desk, writing something down furiously before scratching out a signature. Her brown eyes lifted to examine him before silently nodding to a chair. Jack took it, feeling like a child called before the headmaster in an old time boarding school.

“So I hear Mitchell didn’t sign on,” her voice was mild, but Jack noticed the hint of threat that stirred underneath. “We needed him to sign, Jack.”

“He didn’t like the terms offered,” Jack replied, shifting in his seat a little, “and while we didn’t get Mitchell, we got Burns and Spang.”

Edith wasn’t unattractive by any means. She could still turn heads, but her years climbing a corporate ladder had hardened her considerably and with her masculine clothing, and intimidating persona she was a long way from the auburn haired go-getter he knew back in the day.

She gave a long suffering sigh. “Jack, if you’re going to dinner expecting a roast lamb, you don’t walk out happy if you only got to eat potatoes and gravy. There was a lot of money on the line with this deal,” she waved her hand, “and now I’m going to have to make some pay cuts, maybe even a few layoffs to readjust.”

“What?,” he started, “there are other avenues, other clients we can sign on…”

“I’ve made to my mind, Jack.”

Alarm shot through his body. Maybe his seniority would protect him, but what about people like Rhonda? Or half of the other people toiling away in the office? He couldn’t claim to like or even know many of them, but that didn’t mean he wanted to see them tossed out.

His mind called back to the mysterious woman. The green fire. He felt the warmth still flowing within him, like a shot of whiskey on a cold winter’s day. Though he was loath to do it, could he perhaps nudge Edith into a different path?

Instinctively his mind stretched out and he sent a flood of sadness and remorse to Edith’s mind.

Her stern expression faltered for a second, a weak spot in her emotional armour that Jack exploited.

“I’m telling you Edith, there’s a better way,” he leaned forward in his seat, pressing the emotions again, “I can find you an alternate client, the numbers will look good.”

He tried another emotion, something positive. Excitement. He just hoped that it would lead to the desired effect.

Edith looked away and then back at him, interest filling her eyes. “What sort of client?”

“I have a few possibilities that I could look into,” he swallowed uneasily, “I can arrange meetings. I promise, there are alternatives here.”

He sent another wave of excitement, and watched as she leaned back in her seat. She studied him again for what felt like an eternity before giving a nod of approval.

“Fine,” she said, waving dismissively. “You have a week to bring me something else. But if this falls through, it’ll be your ass, Jack.”

Jack nodded furiously and left her office, wiping the sweat from his face and exhaling all the tension from his body. He had saved his skin and the livelihoods of those around him. But this caused a germ of an idea to fester in his mind.

He had used the demonic power on Edith. But he hadn’t gone crazy with it. He hadn’t made her do anything she didn’t want to do, he had just opened up her mind to alternatives. And it had helped people, hadn’t it?

Returning to his office, Jack began to think of other ways he could use his power to help people.