Five Shadows

Chapter One

"He said it was because of my hair. My hair, Abby. Who breaks up with a person because they dyed their hair?"

"Well, it is a little... dark."

A little dark was an understatement. I had told my stylist to think "black hole," when I sat down in the chair. It was a spur of the moment decision. Black felt right in that moment. "Good Luck Crow" was the shade the stylist came up with and it suited me just fine. I was going for a sexy vampire look with my almost see-through complexion and diluted blue eyes. The look on Abby's face was making it clear I may have missed my mark.

That's fine. I'm fine. "Not everyone loves the sloppy bun, torn-jeans, wanna be a cool mom look, Abby."

My sister put her hand to her head and pushed on her bun. "I'm not trying to be cool. I just..." she trailed off, hurt, but trying not to be. She's so predictable.

"You just like the look, right? Well, I like this look. And I'm not going to pine after a guy who would dump me just because he doesn't like my hair." Abby sipped her coffee rather than answer me. I sighed. "And you look fine. Great. You're a total hottie." She didn't take her mouth from the rim of her mug, but a nascent smile widened her mouth ever so slightly as though her plan was to make me compliment her all along. "I'm out," I said. "I have to get back to the gaping maw of hell before Carol loses her cool."

"You know you could look for another job."

"There's Carols in every job." I flung my bag over my shoulder and lifted my to-go cup at her. "Thanks for the coffee," I said, pushing my chair in. She muttered something that sounded a lot like a sarcastic, "Thanks for the great company,' but ignored it. Abby's life was flawless because she made sure of it. It seemed like a lot of work to me.

The alarm on my phone rang a villainous tune reminding me I had one minute to get back to my desk. I tried to pick up the pace, but between my bag slapping against me and my coffee sloshing about, it was only an awkward half-jog. A homeless man I hadn't seen before held a cup identical to mine out to me. "Uh," I rammed my hand into my purse and pulled out some loose change. I tossed it into the empty cup with a little smile. He spit and dumped the change on the sidewalk where it tinkled and slid like raindrops into a nearby gutter. I returned his cuss at me and slammed into the door of our office building.

"I'm here! I'm back!" I announced sliding into my seat. On the other side of our cubicle partition there was no response. "Carol?" No answer. Whew. Maybe I'd dodged a bullet. I put my headset on and settled in to take calls from annoyed customers. There weren't all annoyed of course, but the ones that weren't were even worse because I had to match their cheer. Barf. I peeked down the hall. Carol was chatting with a plate full of store-bought cookies and from-the-box brownies somebody brought in for a birthday. I shook my head, sighing.

My phone rang. I let it ring one more time than they suggested in training because a girl has to rebel where she can in this life. "Cutter Co. How many I help you?"

"I just got my barstools and one of them is damaged." I leaned back into my chair and closed my eyes. I could literally do this job with my eyes closed. By the time I got barstool lady off the phone and opened my eyes, Carol was standing in my cubicle.

"I'm taking lunch now."

"Okay. Super. Have a good one." She marched out without mentioning I was late getting back. Win.

The rest of my day sucked. Like all my days. At 4:58, Little Cut called me into his office. Cutter Co. is a chair manufacturing company. We make dining room chairs, office chairs, barstools, blah blah blah. It's a family owned business, but huge. Like the kids were all born with silver spoons crammed in their prissy little mouths. The youngest Cutter is my ageish. He's working in HR right now, but obviously he'll be CEO before you can say nepotism.

I stood in his office, which didn't have any more personality than my cubicle. Tan walls, gray desk, gray chair. No family pictures like Carol. I don't know how she managed to find her computer every day underneath all the pictures, notes, drawings, and crap she had on her desk. "Nora." He swiveled around in his chair. Was that some kind of power move? Swiveling to face me? It felt like it. He stopped himself from overswiveling by grabbing his desk. "You dyed your hair." Oh. Okay. That's what this was about.

"Well, I don't actually see any customers, and I don't think there's anything in the handbook, so-"

"Oh! No, no. I was just noticing it was different. It's nice." He was lying. I looked even more like a corpse with this hair color than I normally do. I tried a smile to move the conversation along. Then I noticed his socks were pink and blue polka dots and I really did smile. "Ah. I called you in because it seems like maybe your lunch break isn't long enough? Are you having a hard time squeezing all you need to do into one hour?" Carol. I swore under my breath.

"Did Carol rat me out? I'm sorry. I'll be back on time from now on."

"Okay. If you need more time at lunch, you could always come in a little earlier or stay a little later. We could be flexible." Gee, what a generous offer.

"An hour's good. Thank you." I stepped back to indicate I wanted to get the heck out of there. I had a bottle of cab at home with my name on it. "Have a good night." But as I was leaving, I saw a tiny paper on his desk that stopped me. I paused one beat.

"You have a nice night too," he smiled. I swear when he smiled, I could hear cash registers cha-chinging. Only the richest people have that smile. You know the one. Blinding. The after picture on flyers for braces. I bet he flossed every night. He struck me as a guy who never missed a night of flossing. This was certainly not a person who needed my help with anything. I backed out of his office, ignoring the paper and his confused expression.