The Destiny Theory

Chapter 3: Signs and Portents

Abigail looked up at Destiny in a rather poignant look yet with a look even the devil wouldn't want to look at.

       " --Mason wants to see you in his office." Abigail smiles an evil grin.

Destiny tries to pull herself together on the way to her boss'office. Elle Mason was as tough as they come for bosses and also as ugly as they came. She knocked on the door to hear a loud banter go on and then a slam of the phone. Destiny slowly walks into his office and sits down across from his desk. She grips the arms of the chair and waits for a scolding. It was common for Destiny to be late for work but Mason also didn't tolerate lateness. For Destiny though it started happening more and more and Mason was at the end of his rope with her. He stood there, gazing out the window without turning to even look at her.

          "How long have you been working here, Destiny?" Mason, bellowed at her angrily.

          "Almost two years, sir." Destiny let the words out in a big gulp.

          "Two years--well I personally have noticed some wonderful changes you've made in that time. And I'm proud of you." Destiny, smiles and nods to Mason, hoping he doesn't really notice how nervous she is.

          "And it has been a good run, but this is the fifth time this month you've been late. You know my policy on tardiness. What do you have to say for yourself?" Mason gives a harsh, cold glare to Destiny that radiates anger. Destiny takes a big gulp and tries to hold her composure.

          "I know, sir. I have no excuse for my--" Destiny is abruptly interrupted by Mason and is thrown back in her seat.

          "Destiny. You look terrible, is that the same outfit you wore yesterday?" Destiny looks down at her blouse feeling embarrassed. She didn't realize that she was wearing the same thing she did yesterday. Also, she didn't realize she stunk like booze and cigars. Mason sat back in his ergonomic, high-back reclining executive chair, crosses his arms and gives another glare at Destiny.

          "Oh yeah, and that flashy hotshot who came waltzing in here the other day filling your head up with that pompous garbage, be careful, he's a pathological liar. He just wants you to be his flunky. Destiny had remembered about the tall slender gentleman with a mysterious style. A few days ago he had come in looking for some info on life insurance and wanted an extremely unusual policy for specific reasons but didn't also elaborate on them She had just ignored him and didn't pay much attention even though he had walked right past the other agents and sat down right in front of her desk. She remembered he had a most interesting case. Black with the head of an Egyptian dog (Anubis), and had gold leaf writing on the side though she couldn't make out what. Destiny resumed her attention on Mason.

          "Whereas I'm preparing you for business ownership--being your own person. Isn't that fulfilling enough?" He remarked trying to entice Destiny's ego, although somehow he notices it not really working too well. He had concluded his lecture to Destiny about responsibility, order and obedience. Destiny left the office and went back to her cubicle and sat there for the rest of the day not taking in any clients. Destiny sat there and really began to consider Randall Ravencroft's offer. True that owning a business would be nice, she also loved having a free will of adventure. After work, Destiny headed to her usual watering hole down at O'Malley's. She had a lot to think about in regards to the offer but also how she treated Mark. She felt bad walking out from the fight they had. She had sat there, on her usual stool at the bar looking blankly into a mirror behind the bar. She didn't order anything, as she was sitting there, Destiny received a text. Puzzled by the text, she noticed it was from Amy.