Angie sat down at her desk before waiting for her new client. She arranged her small Styrofoam cup that sat on the edge of the cheap glass table her boss lifted for a steal from a closing department store half a decade back. She laughed at the thought.
A department store? In Manhattan?
The door to her small office opened slightly. She cocked her head to the direction of the noise and an automatic smile stretched her stretched lips. The door was slow to open, but she could already hear the commotion outside in the room adjacent to hers.
“I can’t believe you would be so irresponsible!” A voice shouted. Heels clicked on the stylish floor across the hall in a small contained room. “I specifically asked to vacation in a dimension where my ex-husband didn’t exist!”
She heard Michael’s old chair squeak in his office across the hallway.
“I assure you, I'm very sorry and we'll compensate you for this. We can’t always account for variables,” he said. “His name is Marcus, born 2451—”
“And he was there!” Mrs. Annehal said, her voice turning strained and worried. “Out of all the destinations, he lived there! His name is Aaron there or something. You don’t check for variants of his name?”
“Not unless you specifically give it to us,” Michael said. "We'll add these names to the list in the meantime." His voice echoed in the hall.
He stopped talking. There was a moment of silence before Angie heard footsteps clacking, and the door to his office shut close as softly as possible. Michael must’ve forgotten to turn on the sound proof enabled shield again.
She didn’t need to see what was going on to know he was in deep shit. Whoever this woman was, she must want to get away from her ex pretty badly. Hopefully more precautions were made to help her.
Angie sighed.
Her door opened finally, with a painfully drawn out creak. She would have to get the service drone to put some oil on that. The tall frame of an older man with a nametag that read, “Hi! I’m___” was plastered to his chest.
She straightened her back, and rolled her pinky around the curve of her ear to pull back a loose strand of black hair. Her eyes lifted to the man and he was still standing motionless.
Late thirties probably. Frowning. Dark brown hair, green eyes, a cleanly pressed suit with horizontal stripes.
She stiffened a bit. Her thumb pushed the sound proof button under her desk, a light buzz echoed around the room that was undetectable to customers once they entered the room.
She stood up and extended her hand. The man just stared at her for a moment, and then sat down without even moving his hand to greet her. She kept her smile plastered on her lips.
“Hello, I’m Angie,” she said, waving like a kindergarten teacher. “Where can Destiny Dimension take you this evening?”
His mouth twitched.
“I don’t care,” he said stiffly. “Just where ever.”
Great, Angie thought.
She looked at his wrist. Twelve stamps from different agents going up to his arm. A few were smeared and fresh.
He lifted his fist over to her without looking in her direction. She took out her stamp from a compartment in the glass desk, and she pressed his hand.
He immediately tore it away and hid it in his crossed arms.
This better get me a large commission, she thought.
Angie sat down and placed her hand on the desk. She lifted her palm, and a cube emitted from the glass surface. The translucent cube enlarged into a double sided screen with a search engine that displayed images for her and her new guest.
“Will this be an annulment trip?” she asked in a perky tone.
“Did I say it was an annulment trip?” he said.
Asshole, she thought.
Her smile tightened, and she poked her fingers on the screen.
“I suppose not,” she said, forcing out a spirited laugh. “I’m required to ask, just in case.”
“In case of what?” he said. His tone was stern, like he was talking to a child. “Helping people escape taking responsibility for their marriages?”
“Divorce is very common and sometimes necessary for both parties,” she said. “I assume you’re taking a trip with your spouse then?”
“No,” he spat. “I’m single.”
AKA divorced, she thought.
“Hmm,” she said in an innocent tone but with her mind burning with impatience. “Well, we do specialize in annulments between people of different dimensions, but we do ordinary trips too.”
He rolled his eyes. Angie took a deep breath to curb her growing frustration.
“So where do you want to go?” she asked. She pulled up a few motion images and showed them to him. “We have a wonderful package deal. You could go to dimension 00104. They’re currently in 1981 and have some resorts available in Colorado. Beautiful mountains and fresh snow every morning.”
The man stared blankly at the wall behind her. His mouth for a moment clenched tightly, then released.
“In all those other dimensions,” he said. “What are the chances of divorcees meeting each other again? Must be awkward right?” The last few words were soft, barely audible.
“If you get the right package deal and take the necessary precautions, we can guarantee that the chances of meeting an ex-partner are very slim,” she said. “A ten to twelve percent chance at best if you choose an almost identical parallel world. We have more connections to other dimensions than the leading competitor.”
“Do you do this all day?” he said rolling his voice in a condescending way.
“Do what?” she said.
He stared at the coffee cup. He was quiet for a moment.
“Nothing,” he said. “That trip to Colorado or something. What’s the catch?”
She typed the specifications of the dimension. Her eyes widened a bit. He narrowed his eyes at her.
“It expires in three years,” she said.
“What? The deal?” he said.
“No. The dimension. A cosmic rip destroys all life in January 1985,” she said. “But I hear that they have great continental breakfasts. Definitely worth it in my opinion.”
“You go there with your boyfriend?” he said. His tone was biting. She clenched her fists in her lap. What business was it of his? And why specifically boyfriend?
“No,” she said. “Do you take trips with you your loved one?”
“I said I’m not seeing anyone,” he said, his voice wavered a bit, his eyes looked empty. “I shouldn’t have expected anything from you.” He turned his head away.
“You’re the one not giving me anything to work with!” she said, slamming her hand down on the table. She covered her mouth with the palm of her hand. She wasn’t supposed to say that.
The man stared at her. His eyes roamed around her in every possible direction.
He sat back in the chair and finally looked at her in the eyes. The coldness of his stare slowly turned warm and wet with tears trailing along the curve of his eyes. The deceptively stern stretch of muscle on his mouth turned loose, and his face softened.
“I...I am on vacation.” he said. “But I saw you. You look so much like her I—” burying his face in his hands. “I knew you worked here, but I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t help seeing you and what you were doing.”
Angie froze. Her fingers quivered. She placed her hand underneath the desk.
Angie pushed the button to call for security to come in. Hopefully Emotional Support Services Sector would help him.
She stood up and walked to him.
“Sir,” she said placing a hand on his shoulder. “Please take a moment to breathe. I’m not who you think I am.”
“Sarah,” he said. He grabbed a hold of her shoulders and then held her tightly. “Here you’re Angie but you’re really Sarah. In this world you’re twenty six. Its ten years behind mine.”
“Stop!” She shouted. She wanted to scream but then remembered the sound proof customization was on.
“She left me,” he said. “You left me.”
Angie tried to move her hands to place a block between them, but he pulled her close.
The door burst open.
Two towering guards dressed in white grabbed the man by the arms, separating him from Angie. She ran out of the room and into the hallway far away from the scene. From the door adjacent to her own, she saw the man attempt to wrestle out of the arms of the security team.
“Sarah!” He screamed, echoing in the hallway. The screaming continued as he was dragged away. Only Michael, with his soundproof off came out of his office and hurried over to Angie.
“Jesus,” Michael said running a hand through his dark brown hair. “And I thought my clients were hard to work with.”
“He thought I was his ex-wife or something,” she said.
“We always get those don’t we?” he said, his green eyes shining.
She rolled her eyes. He must be so happy now since her day was worse than his.
Asshole.
THE END
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