Okay, here is chapter 1, updated with more exposition.

No Working Title
Chapter 1

She looked in the mirror as she was getting ready this Monday morning. The puffy red eyes were obvious; as were the gently-coined “smile lines” around her eyes. She thought, “Thank you, Estee for the ultimate ‘old woman’ cream. Despite the fact that you are raping me blind with the cost of hope in a bottle, you are at least doing your job for now.” She was forty years old, and obsessed with looking thirty-five. Her hairdresser spent more time consoling her deflated ego over her gray hair than he did artistically hiding the gray from the world.

Last night had been difficult. She had been putting in extraordinary hours on an already burned out body and mind for the last three months and had little tolerance for issues beyond work. She received an unexpected call from Michael; he would be in town next week and wanted to see her. Later, her father called with an update on her mother’s health. She was in the hospital having contracted pneumonia. Her mother’s oncologist said that her lowered immunity would predispose her to illness, but they did not expect something so serious. She needed to go to Dallas to see her mother, but knew that would not happen given her current schedule. Tom’s unresponsiveness toward her attempts to talk since Michael called did not surprise her. He was never comfortable with their friendship, and retreated whenever she talked to Michael.

She always took Michael’s calls. She hated talking to him. It hurt when he called, and she knew the emotional ramifications of talking to him, but never refused. After fifteen years, she hadn’t grown accustomed to the feeling of loss each time she saw or talked to him. Her conflicted feelings always included excitement, happiness, fear and dread when she saw him. His visits reminded her of being drunk. She was happy when she was with him, but the next day was excruciating, like a bad hangover. Each time, she swore she would never see him again, but after a few months passed, she forgot the pain and would agree to see him again. After all these years, she still didn’t understand their relationship. She couldn’t let go, and yet, it was the most painful part of her life.

It was six-thirty a.m., and she looked at Tom, sleeping on the far side of the bed. She wondered why she stayed with him. She felt little for him, just as she had felt little for any man in her life except Michael. She had become tired of loneliness some years ago, and engaged in relationships to satisfy the need for human touch and companionship. No surrogate existed for what she really wanted, but she had no choice but to continue to search. Tom had seemed sufficient at the time, but, like all the others, did not evoke the emotions in her that she so desperately needed. She felt sorry for him, knowing that he did not receive from her what he deserved. It was time to end the relationship, but did not have the strength to do it right now. She knew he had one foot out the door anyway, and would probably beat her to the punch.

Elizabeth was not looking forward to the executive management meeting today. Sales had flattened, complacency had settled in, and upper-management had reached the peak of its ability to grow the company to the next level. She was saddled with finding a solution which required massive organizational changes, and this was her first experience in a reduction in force and management shuffle.

She moved into the bedroom to dress for the day. “What’s best for bad news? Navy? Black? Red? No, not power.” she thought. Soothing tones were not her thing. She opted for black. After dressing, she donned her typically conservative jewelry, and took one last look in the mirror at the moderately successful cover-up job on the stress-induced look of her face. “It’ll do. Stress looks good anyway. It makes me look compassionate.” She looked again at Tom, sighed, then turned and left.

The car service was on time as usual. Jesse, her driver, was perky but predictably professional, handing her the coffee he brought her every morning; two sugars and a ridiculous amount of cream. “Tough day today, Ms. Long?” he asked empathetically.
“Yes, tough day today, Jesse. And thanks for the coffee, yet again. I only wish I were half as nice as you think I am.” She thought about that statement, hesitating to judge herself for stating something so vulnerable, but realized it was the truth. “Okay, let’s go. The earlier I get there, the earlier this is over with.”

Jesse drove carefully through the city, as snow had fallen the previous evening, and there was a potential for ice. As he approached corporate, he heard her breathe deeply, and saw her drop her eyes to the floor from the rearview mirror. He felt sadness for her, as he did of all the executives worn down by years of stress. He was glad he was not a part of that world.

She deftly regained her composure as she entered the building, smiling at the doorman and security guard as she passed. They had always liked her; she was kind and remembered their names. She even brought them gifts for their birthdays and Christmas holiday. Again, she thought to herself, “If they only knew what I am about to do, they would no longer think of me the same way again.”

“Damnit!” she yelled, as she glanced around the executive A/V room. She looked at her watch. It was 7:30 a.m. “Where are the damned caterers? Where are my IT guys?” She looked toward Barb’s desk outside of the room next to the CFO’s office, but she was nowhere to be found. In fact, the room was completely bare save the furniture; no A/V equipment, no obligatory comfort food for the presentation content, no printouts of the agenda. “What the hell is going on here?” she asked out loud to no one.

As she fumed at the disintegrating situation, a voice caught her off guard. “Ms. Long, you need to come with me.”. She looked around for the person attached to the voice, but found no one. “Excuse me?”, she replied. The voice was strong and deep, and recitated the same statement, “Ms. Long, come with me.” “Well, I certainly can’t go with you since you are not within my line of sight”, she retorted.

As quickly as she could turn around, a white light shined into her eyes, rendering her momentarily blind as a hand grasped her arm gently. She felt an odd sensation, tingling, and then, nothing.