On Monday mornings, I send out a story via email: ultra-brief tales of 1,000 words or more, usually in genres including horror, science fiction, and the supernatural. Those stories collectively are called Once Upon A Time. I’ve also published several ebooks and compendium volumes of those stories so far.

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Here's story 184, of 240 so far.

Work Wife

The office was deserted, which wasn’t surprising since it was barely five in the morning. Hudson had seen it busy at 7 AM, even on Saturdays if something major was going on, but today was a Sunday and no-one was scheduled to be in until the following morning.

He came in from the pre-dawn darkness and moved through the corporate maze, navigating without needing to pay attention, negotiating corridors and self-closing doors and elevators, until he reached the relative comfort of the cluster of cubicles which housed his own team — in the sense of being the one he belonged to, rather than his subordinates, because he had none of those.

It was usually quieter here than downstairs, even at peak times. It wasn’t a large team, and they mostly had to deal with managers and clients in other timezones, so the day tended to start a bit later, in theory. The reality was that they were still expected to arrive in good time, and stay a little later. Hudson was a morning person, and always had been, so he was quite used to being the first to arrive. At this unsociable hour, though, he would normally have been the only one in the whole building.

“Morning,” came the familiar voice he’d been expecting, and hoping to hear, since he’d left the house an hour earlier.

Jennifer was standing in the open doorway to the small kitchen area that served mostly as a coffee dispensing point, wearing one of her usual skirt suits and leaning against the doorframe. She had made coffee, which struck Hudson as amusing given the hour and the circumstances, but then it was a ritual, after all.

“You showed up, then,” he said, and she rolled her eyes. It was something he said every morning; his version of a greeting to her. Jennifer didn’t respond, but there was a smile in her eyes.

They’d been working together for three years now, always on the same team, and at this stage she was definitely his work wife. They knew each other incredibly well, shared their triumphs and defeats, and were as close as spouses in many ways — albeit with a platonic relationship.

Hudson knew that Jennifer had some sort of on-again, off-again boyfriend who she didn’t live with, and Hudson himself had been single for almost a year, but they hadn’t crossed that line. Instead, they channelled the admittedly noticeable mutual attraction into their work life, collaborating and communicating and commiserating with a synergy that had newly-hired coworkers assuming that the two were already married.

Hudson looked her up and down, not bothering to hide it. This situation was different, and they both knew it, having arranged to meet here after an unusually frank discussion one evening after work in a nearby bar. Topics had been broached, and an implicit consensus had been reached. They were more similar than they were different, and they had a bond that no-one else in the office could touch.

Jennifer noticed his appreciative look, and allowed his gaze to wander. She could have dressed down — it wasn’t like any of their supervisors would be there, on a Sunday and at this uncommon hour — but she had deliberately chosen something that would be a part of how he saw her in his mind. And she’d seen him looking before.

“Did you, uh, bring along…” Hudson began, and Jennifer nodded.

“The necessities,” she supplied, tilting her head in the direction of the little kitchen. “All-night supermarket down the road. I got the large size.”

Her tone was playful, almost a laugh, and for maybe the thousandth time that month he found himself thinking about her legs.

“Flattered,” he replied, and now she really did laugh; a high-pitched, delicate thing, like a silver bell.

Hudson looked around, having to force himself to do so, and for the first time, he saw the dreary surroundings in a new light. He’d easily disabled the security cameras remotely, so there would be no footage to watch.

Almost a shame, he thought.

He would quite like to have a video of the impending activity for his own enjoyment later. Just as she always did, Jennifer seemed to read the thought straight from the front of his mind, and she spoke from just beside him, apparently having crossed the distance between them while he was distracted.

“Could always set up your phone to shoot a video,” she said, reaching up to straighten his tie, letting her slender hand linger on his chest for a moment longer than necessary.

“Oh so it would be my phone with the incriminating evidence?” he said, taking a step backwards, but she followed him, smiling again.

“Or mine,” she replied. “Or both. Make sure we get my good side.”

“You’ve got at least two good sides, woman,” Hudson replied, feeling a little flustered by her approach. She knew how to press his buttons. Ever intuitive, Jennifer took a half-step back again.

“Are we going to do this, or what?” she asked, brushing a strand of her hair away from her eyes.

Hudson nodded. “Been waiting way too long already,” he said, his voice noticeably rougher than it had been a moment ago.

Jennifer reached out and took his hand, pulling him with her as she walked towards the small kitchen and then dragging him inside. They both laughed. Inside, on the breakfast bar that ran along the far wall, there was a shopping bag. She dropped his hand again and instead reached into the bag, retrieving the items she’d brought. Hudson watched appreciatively.

Lighter fluid. Cleaning chemicals. Chef’s matches.

Jennifer turned, exaggerating the sway of her hips in a way that irresistibly drew Hudson’s eyes to her backside.

“Let’s burn this place to the fucking ground,” she said.

JINX

KESTREL face a new and terrifying enemy: an all-seeing mastermind who already knows exactly who they are, and many of their deepest secrets. Nothing stays hidden forever, and the line between privacy and liberty is razor-thin…

Book 3 in the KESTREL action-thriller series.

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