What If

1. Crazy Amy

I glanced around the electrical room of my Manhattan office with a frown. I hardly ever got called in. Especially not at two in the morning. It looked like something chewed through the wires in here, shorting the circuits. To most people, they would assume rats were the culprit and move on. I wasn't most people. This also wasn't the first time something like this happened.

I listened closely as the electrician continued talking. "So, it seems like a normal power failure issue. Rats are common with this problem." I see he's most people, I thought as he continued. "We're working with your team to make sure no one tampered with anything here." I retract my last thought.

"You said this happened before?" he asked.

"Yes," I answered with a nod. I slid my hands in the pockets of my black Armani business suit. "Two years ago, another company did something like this in an attempt to get information about my software." I gave the electrician a half smirk. "That company no longer exists."

The electrician raised his brows as he adjusted his hard hat. "Wow, well, let's hope it doesn't come to that."

Indeed. I wasn't in the mood to deal with another corporate conspiracy theory. Not only was this a busy time of the year for me, but it was also the hardest to deal with. As the months went on, the upcoming anniversary of my parent's death haunted me more and more it seemed.

"Sir?" The electrician called, pulling me out of my dark thoughts.

"Yes, I'm sorry. What were you saying?"

"You're free to go. We'll be in touch with you and your team to keep you updated."

"Thank you. I appreciate all your help." I left the electrical room and pulled my cell phone out of my pocket. I opened my calendar and scrolled through the usual work shit. I had countless meetings scheduled for the next two weeks. Not to mention, a very important lunch with the head of Microsoft.

Dread filled me as I thought of having to sit through another meeting talking about data and spreadsheets. I rather be doing anything else. Decision made, I opened my email and sent a message to my assistant, Anne, to cancel all my appointments for the next two weeks. I don't know if I just needed time or a vacation. Whichever it was, I just knew that being here, at work, wasn't going to help me. Not—not now. 

I stepped off the elevator and slid my phone back in my pocket. When I got to the entrance, the doorman had a cab waiting for me already. I've worked here a long time; and one thing I made certain to do when I started was get to know every single person who worked for me. Even the doorman.

"Have a nice night, Mr. Williams."

"Same to you, Tom," I replied. I walked through the door he held open for me before getting into the waiting cab. The sound of Indian music filled my ears as I called out my address to the cabbie, "740 Park Avenue."

"Yes, sir," the driver answered as we started off.

I gazed out of the car window, watching as the buildings whizzed by in a blur. I rolled my neck on my shoulders, trying to ease the tension there. When that didn't work, I tried massaging my aching neck with my hand.

"Rough night?" I heard the cabbie ask with his thick accent.

I dropped my arm and let out a deep sigh. "Try a long seven months."

A laugh came from the driver's seat. "Don't I know it. What do you do?"

"I run a software company," I answered as I noticed a picture of a man, woman, and child taped to the dash. "Is that your family?" I asked curiously.