Force (An Alex Warren Novel)

by Logue, Shawna

  My gaze followed his gesture and immediately recognized the building he was pointing to. I passed the art installation out front every day when walking to and from work. It was one of my favorite sculptures in the city: a large, bronze mobius strip. Until now, I hadn’t noticed that it was also the sign for the company that was housed inside the incredibly modern building: Mobius, Inc. How had I not noticed that before? I had certainly spent a fair time looking at the bronze piece. The sculpture stood upright with dozens of inscriptions all over it, many in different languages. I had often spent my lunch hours trying to decipher the quotes in the other languages, with very little success. The quotes I could read were generally uncommon, but I still recognized a lot of them, most from my university days. Now, whenever I passed by, my eyes only ever focused on one quote, by Douglas Adams: “The knack of flying is learning how to throw yourself at the ground and miss.” I had always chuckled at that one, deciding that it was written directly to me. I am a bit of a klutz, to such an extent that as a child, my father often joked that I threw myself at the ground on purpose.

  “Well, it was nice talking to you,” the man said hesitantly, clearly noticing my blank stare as I analyzed the building across the street. He was out the door before I came back to my senses.

  Was this the kind of man who worked at Mobius? Was the job offer serious? It couldn’t be. I am clearly far too plain to work for a company that hires such gorgeous people. Even the building is far too auspicious looking for someone like me.

  The chime of the museum clock rang out, reminding me how late it was. Nonetheless, I couldn’t stop staring at the building across the street. My glance darted between Mobius, Inc. and the business card resting on my plate. A voice in my head argued, what have I got to lose?, while another was cautious, adding that I would offend my boss if she knew I was looking elsewhere. What if she was so insulted she fired me after all? She would be the kind of person who would do that. Then I would be really screwed.

  I finished up my tea, all the time squabbling in my head about what to do. Before my head had resolved the argument, I found myself crossing the street, heading directly for Mobius. It couldn’t be open this late, right? I just needed to glance in the window and get an idea of what it was they actually did. Then I could decide if I would call back Nic Fiamo, the name on the card who I could only presume was the man I met at lunch.

  As I approached the massive glass building, the doors slid open effortlessly, responding to my step on an invisible sensor. Still open, I mused, though at this hour it probably wasn’t open to the public. I would just glance around quickly, get an idea of what it was they did, and leave. I cautiously stepped in, and was immediately in awe of what I saw before me. The vast, marble lobby looked like a scene out of the museum. And not the little local museum two blocks away, more like a museum in New York or Paris.

  The most striking piece in the lobby, and clearly the focal point for all who entered, was a gigantic dinosaur skeleton. To me, this seemed big even for a dinosaur. I had been to the dinosaur museum in Alberta as a kid, but this was ridiculous. It rose up from the floor almost the entire height of the building, but with its head just above my eye level. It looked as though it was diving into the floor, its long body and tail ascending upward towards the ceiling. I could see now that the building was circular, and this immense beast fit all the way up the middle, with the floors encompassing it like a sort of shield for the ancient creature. I couldn’t begin to imagine the view from the top floor, looking down on it. It was such a strange looking creature too. I’m not a dinosaur expert by any means, but I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what kind of dinosaur this was. It had what I thought were once wings, but overall, it looked far too big to be able to lift itself up to fly. Of course, this was just the skeleton, and who was I to know the anatomy of such a prehistoric beast? It certainly was beautiful though, ancient and majestic.

  “You came!” a voice rang, interrupting my gawking. Was I that out of it today that I really didn’t notice when people approached me? I looked around to see who was talking to me, but there was no one there.

  “Up here!” she called again. I looked up to see a petite woman waving from the second floor. At first glance she looked a bit like a character out of a cartoon. She had short, light pink hair, which I would have mistaken for white had she not been wearing a white mini dress. She had matching white ballet style shoes which only accentuated her petite frame. “Let me come to you,” she called once she saw I had noticed her.

  It seemed far too fast for her to reach me. Maybe there was a staircase I hadn’t noticed yet. Still, she was tugging on my arm almost instantaneously.

  “Come on then,” she sang. She was even smaller next to me than she appeared to be from the second floor. She couldn’t be more than five feet tall, and her features seemed almost juvenile. If I hadn’t seen her eyes so clearly I would have thought her to be no more than 13 years old.

  But I could see her eyes, especially because she kept turning to make sure I was following her. (I was following, though a bit dazed at all that was happening.) Her eyes looked exactly like the eyes of strange man I had met at lunch (Nic Fiamo, I told myself again, determined to stop calling him “that strange man”). They echoed with wisdom and knowledge clearly beyond her years.

  We got into a glassed in elevator before I even clued in to what was happening. “I’m Peri,” the girl jingled, sticking out her tiny hand to me.

  “Um, I think you’ve mistaken me for someone else,” I managed to squeak, embarrassed I hadn’t said anything sooner.

  “Don’t be silly! We’ve been expecting you!” she chimed.

  “Sorry, it’s not me,” I shrugged politely. I hadn’t known I was coming in to this place until I had crossed the threshold. How on earth could she have been expecting me? No, she certainly had made a mistake.

  She looked at me inquisitively, her eyes full of a wisdom that her childlike face couldn’t convey. “Aren’t you here to see Nic? About the consultant position? He said he had met someone today who was perfect for the job, and that she would be coming by tonight. You fit his description exactly. Puddle-brown hair, librarian glasses, no make-up, wool coat missing the third button-”

  I cut her off. She had been describing me exactly, though I wasn’t comfortable about the terms she was using, even if they were dead on. “Um, yeah… that’s me.” I had wanted to disagree with her and high-tail it out of there; I would have if she hadn’t described me so perfectly. So Nic hadn’t been lying, I thought to myself. There was a job offered to me at lunch down on the harbour.

  Was that even today? Everything seemed to run together now as I became more and more confused at the situation I had put myself in. I looked out the glass elevator, vaguely aware of the prehistoric statue zipping by. When it seemed like we had been going up for far too long, we stopped, just in line with the tip of the tail of the beast. I glanced up at the little LED screen which indicated what floor we were on: fourteen. This building didn’t look that high from outside. Then again, I had been in such a daze all day that maybe I hadn’t been looking that hard.

  “Follow me,” Peri motioned, exiting the elevator with such grace that you could mistake her movements for a dance. The little flat shoes she wore accentuated the ballet like steps she took. I could tell she was the kind of person who made happiness contagious.

  Chapter Three

  The rest of the evening passed in a blur. I have a hard time remembering exactly what had happened. I went into a large office, where Nic sat behind a massive mahogany desk. His office screamed intimidating, but he did not. The intimidation lessened when Peri hopped up on a table off to one side of the room and waited expectantly. I don’t even remember the whole conversation, just a few key parts.

  For one, I remember Nic saying he recognized a “special talent” in me. This had struck me as odd, because I couldn’t figure out what that talent could be, or how he would even know. He also had shown me an offer letter, whic
h had a salary almost twice what I was making at my current job. It offered medical and dental, and the office building had a gym in it that was free to all employees. Best of all, the vacation entitlement was 3 weeks a year to start, going up to four weeks after two years. At my current job, I was only eligible for two, not that I ever got a chance to take it.

  The offer was amazing. I signed it without thinking twice, promising to start in two weeks. I remember the bus ride home being full of excitement. The excitement didn’t last, however. When I told Maria the good news, she was quick to burst my bubble.

  “How on earth could you sign something without even asking what you will be doing? And you’re sure they didn’t ask to see your resume? This is weird, Alexis.” I hated when she used my full name. It meant she was serious. She was just about as bad as my mother when she got like this. I guess that’s why she’s my best friend. She keeps me on planet Earth.

  “Look,” I defended, “I can’t afford to work where I am anymore. Not only fiscally, but mentally as well. I hate it. I’ve always hated it. At least this will be something different. Think about, Maria. Even if I hate it, it can’t be any worse than where I am, and at least I will be making more money.” I had planned this response on the way home, knowing full well how she would react when I told her the news.

  “But what if it’s a scam? Or what if they’re a front for the mob? You don’t know anything about them!” She was the kind of person who thought that if something seemed too good to be true, it was because organized crime was involved.

  “I really don’t think that the mob is operating in Victoria, Maria. We’re on an island. Where are they going to go?”

  “Still, I mean… you don’t even know what you’ll be doing. A consultant? A consultant for what?”

  I looked at her sheepishly, throwing both my hands in the air. “I don’t know.”

  The sigh she made then was one of loving disapproval, and I knew I had won. She would always support me in my silly endeavors, so long as it made me happy. And I was sure that this was not just a silly endeavor. I just didn’t know why I was so sure.

  ******

  I started my new job the week leading up to New Year’s Eve. Who does that? I showed up for my first day extremely nervous, only to have that turned into terrified when I couldn’t find a soul on the floor I was instructed to go to. I couldn’t help my guilty conscience from running through my mind as I thought about my ex-boss (despite her nastiness) scrambling to get things done in time for year-end. But for Mobius, the end of the year was their slow time; the majority of employees took their holidays at this time, so there was hardly anyone around. The lack of people didn’t help my nerves.

  Once I settled my tumult, it was easy enough to find my desk. Actually, it was an office. I got my own office? If it hadn’t had my name on the door, I would have doubted that I was in the right place. I remember gasping as I pushed the door open and beheld the spacious room. And the view! The view was breathtaking. From the way my desk was oriented I could see out the window to Fisherman’s Wharf, and I could just make out the pier where the tourists would go to feed the seals during the summer. It was an amazing scene, even now in the winter. Not that Victoria really experienced “winter” the same way the rest of Canada did. The city would get snow for one, maybe two days, usually in February. The two inches of wet, slushy gunk that the snow would turn into when it hit the ground would essentially shut the city down. The buses would stop running, and people wouldn’t go to work. It was a local joke to comment on the fact that the city had no snow plow. Compared to the rest of the country though, this was paradise. It was the end of December and it was sunny. And I got to soak it all in from my new office.

  But this didn’t change the fact that no one was around. I flipped my cell phone open and confirmed that it was in fact, Monday, and that I hadn’t come in too early. What was I supposed to do? As I settled myself down in my much-too comfortable chair, I saw a postcard-sized note taped to my computer monitor. That was a monitor? The gargantuan monstrosity was bigger than my television at home. The note was minuscule compared to the size of the screen. Taking it, I examined the beautiful, hand-written message:

  I subconsciously traced the impeccable script with my finger. I think a part of me was hoping to discover that it was printed off of a computer, but the raised marks that the pen had left on the backside of the card told me that yes, my new boss had beyond perfect calligraphy skills. I had only seen his writing once before, on the offer letter that he presented to me barely two weeks earlier, and this was identical.

  But today, as I looked at the postcard that he had left at my monitor, I still doubted his penmanship. It was too perfect. Someone would have to practice for years to write like that. I had only met the man twice, and I had no reason to dislike him, but for some reason this bugged me. The feeling was exactly like when you meet someone with perfect teeth, and all they do is smile at everything. It’s like they are flaunting it like a bright, white, shining beacon of perfection. That’s what his script felt like to me. I told myself to get over it, and quickly, as I was sure that this would not be last time I would see his writing.

  I headed back to the elevator, checking my appearance one last time in the reflection in my window. I looked good, for me at least. My old job had been fairly casual, so I had went out and bought some new clothes for this new career. I had chosen a nice pencil skirt and blazer, with a pale pink top; this whole look was very new to me, but I felt very professional. Besides, this place shouted style, so I knew if I was going to last in this job, I would have to go out and spruce up my wardrobe even more once I got my first pay cheque.

  I pushed the button for the thirteenth floor, and felt a little shiver go up my spine. I usually wasn’t one for superstitions, so this involuntary reaction struck me as odd.

  “Hey! Hold the doors!” a voice called out. Instinctively I threw my arm in between the almost closed doors. Ouch. They hit me with a bit more force than I had expected, but they bounced back and reopened in time for a man to enter. The man. The man from the café. He looked to push a button, but once he saw that thirteen was pushed he pulled his hand back.

  “Thanks,” he said, glancing for the first time in my direction. I think I melted at that point. “You okay?”

  I hadn’t noticed I had been rubbing my arm where I threw it into the doors. It throbbed a bit, but I wasn’t about to tell my Adonis that. I forced myself to stop rubbing. “Yeah, I’m fine,” I said, feeling my face flush.

  “Hey, I thought you told me you didn’t work here? You’re the girl from across the street, aren’t you?”

  “Um… yeah. I didn’t work here, at the time. Today’s my first day,” I replied, feeling heat on my face. The doors to the thirteenth floor opened then, saving me from the rest of my embarrassment.

  The room did not fit the décor of the rest of the building. The atmosphere was quite cozy. There was a massive fireplace to my left, and I tried to imagine where the flue came out. Couches were everywhere, clustered in conversational groupings. To the right, a dozen or so tables were decorated with elegant white tablecloths, each with an inviting centerpiece. Nothing seemed out of place on this floor though, and despite the fact that it was early in the morning, the decorating on this floor gave the impression of dusk. The smell however, was a distinctly morning smell. Was that bacon? I’m not normally one for bacon, but this smelled heavenly.

  I started to focus a bit more on my surroundings and I realized that a large group of people were mingling over a breakfast buffet. There were several electric frying pans set up, and I could see a stack of pancakes quickly growing as the chef flipped them over one last time to make sure they were cooked. Once they satisfied his standards, he dexterously flipped them into the air where they landed neatly in a serving tray. Other trays had bacon, sausage, waffles and fruit. I could see another long table beside it had been set up with coffee and tea, as well as a few pitchers of juice.

  Most of the peop
le, my coworkers I presumed, were gathered at the various dining tables and were all chattering away happily. It only took me a moment to take this all in before the man who had rode the elevator with me turned back around to and spoke.

  “Slightly intimidating to have a party on your first day, isn’t it? Don’t worry, this is an annual thing, it’s not just for you.” He smiled a crooked, dazzling smile. “Though that would be a fun way to initiate new employees.” He seemed to think about that for a second before continuing, “We always have a big breakfast the Monday before New Year’s Eve. Not everyone here celebrates Christmas, but it seems everyone celebrates New Year’s, so it makes for a great kickoff to the week. You picked a great time to start actually. You probably won’t have any work to do until next year! It’s pretty quiet around here these days.” I nodded silently. “Oh! How rude of me! I forgot I’ve never actually introduced myself. I’m Connor.” Upon hearing his name I finally made the connection I had been listening for in his voice. He had a hint of Irish brogue that made him only sexier than he already was.

  “Alexis,” I said formally, but quickly added, “but most people call me Alex.” I shook his hand and was immediately aware of how warm it was. Not hot, or uncomfortable, rather quite the opposite. It reminded me of a warm blanket, fresh out of the dryer. I felt a daydream brewing inside as the warmth from his hand radiated up my arm.

  “What do you prefer?”

  It took me two beats too long to realize he meant my name, so to cover up my hesitation I just shrugged. He didn’t seem to notice. Instead, my hand still in his, he turned and headed into the room. I hadn’t noticed earlier, but I was clearly overdressed. Connor was wearing a slightly form fitting t-shirt, with some sort of logo on it I was sure only a guy would understand, and jeans. Nice jeans, mind you, now that I took the time to look. I was quite certain that he could pull off polka-dot sweatpants or something ridiculous like that and still make it look good. The other people in the room were just as casual, some even bordering on outrageous. I noticed a tall, lanky woman entirely in animal print, a stocky man dressed quite normal except for a huge, wide brimmed hat that hid most of his face, and another man who had shorts on. No shirt, just shorts, even though it was December. I felt my mouth pop open. Did he always come to work like that? He looked like he had just returned from a tropical vacation, glowing slightly as would someone who’s seen sun recently. I forced my mouth shut and continued to survey the scene, unaware of where Connor was leading me.