Chapter 13: Tori

Fuck. Fuck. I repeated the magic word to myself as I grabbed my briefcase from the car, charged into the building, and noticed the crowd blocking the elevators in the lobby. Rather than wait around for the next elevator, which would surely stop at every floor, I slipped into the stairwell, slipped off my Manolo Blahniks, and took off up the stairs. The meeting was on the twenty-ninth floor, and with each step, I repeated my mantra. Fuck, I’m late. Fuck, I left a butter knife in the middle of Alex’s floor. Fuck, he’s going to know someone broke in. Fuck, my lungs are going to explode and I’ll never find out what’s in that bottom drawer because I’m going to die here in this stairwell all alone, and probably if I die in my dream, I die in real life, too, all alone in the monastery, and no one will find me for several days, and it’s gonna be gross. Fuck.


After a truly inspiring performance that left me thanking God for my personal trainer, I made it to the final landing. Once I’d taken a moment to put my heels back on, adjust my hair and let my breathing return to normal, I pushed open the stairwell door and headed down the hall to the office. Although technically I was just five minutes late, the other employees would’ve arrived ten minutes early, and so when I entered the conference room, everyone turned to stare at me. Among the expectant faces watching as I took my place at the head of the table, I noticed Tom, James, my secretary, and…Tru Paul? I shot her my best death glare, but she just grinned and winked at me.


“Good morning everyone! I’m sorry to keep you all waiting. I got locked out this morning so I’m running a bit late.” It wasn’t really a lie, but I could see that my employees looked skeptical. Tom thought I was falling apart, my secretary had probably picked up on the fact that I didn’t know her name, and for all I knew, they’d all just been dissecting my personal life. “Anyway, let’s get started. Tom, what’ve you got for us?”


Tom stood up, turned on the projector with a click of a remote, and began his presentation. “As most of you know by now, we’ve made a great deal of progress in Project Miracle within the past several months.” He pointed out some colored graphs on a slide. “The success rates with our test subjects have been rising constantly, thanks to some new pills. They’re not yet FDA approved, but James will keep us up to date on developments in that area.”


“What’s more, we’ve had some hospitals show interest in our work as it relates to premature births in biological females. With any luck, we’ll have some new investors soon.”


“However,” he continued, “the files stolen in the break-in contained value information that we haven’t yet been able to recover. The design of the synthetic wombs themselves is in excellent shape, but until we can replicate the process for creating eggs, we won’t get anywhere.”
People around the table muttered, commenting on the bad luck of the break-in and the fact that no one involved had been identified or caught yet. Tom and I met eyes, and he looked away quickly and returned to his seat.


A few other department heads shared presentations, but I only half-heard them. To be honest, my main—my only—real interest in G.M. was Project Miracle. It was, so to speak, my baby. The rest of the projects, the way we made our money, were of little importance to me. Someone else would take care of them; it wasn’t my job any more. My thoughts raced as I wondered whether or not Alex and Penelope had noticed the butter knife. And if they had, how did they react? You don’t call the police over a butter knife in the floor, but maybe they’d stay home tonight, or move the spare key. The cow was probably especially protective of her baby at this point, protective enough to make her irrational. For all I knew, I’d return to find them sitting back to back in the living room with rifles, waiting to blow my head off when I returned to the scene of the crime…but probably they hadn’t even noticed the knife.


Despite these distractions, I noticed immediately when Tru Paul stood up. Some department head I didn’t recognize introduced her as the head of the Christmas fundraiser planning committee. I groaned aloud, eliciting some looks from around the table, but Tru Paul either didn’t notice or didn’t care. She beamed as she pulled a folded piece of paper from an envelope, scattering sparkles all over the table and carpet.


“I hope you all are looking forward to our fabulous Christmas fundraiser and have your clothes picked out! I’ve received the RSVP’s for the ball, and so I have here the list of all the guests to expect. Drum roll, please!” Some especially enthusiastic employees drummed their hands on the table, and Tru Paul began to read off her list of important names. I nodded and clapped with the rest as I recognized important names. Though the ball hadn’t been part of my dream-memory, it sounded like a wonderful way to relieve the stress of the whole mess with Alex. I deserved a break, and there would be a new dress and shoes to shop for. Maybe, just maybe, I’d even bring along that friend Tom had mentioned…the head of the company couldn’t go dateless, of course.


But then I heard Tru Paul reach the end of the list. “And finally, Alex and Penelope will be joining us!”


The next thing I knew, I had pulled Tru Paul out of the conference room and into the privacy of the stairwell. “What the hell is wrong with you? Alex and Penelope?” I screamed. “How could you invite them to our Christmas ball? I can’t look at them dancing all night! What is your problem? What are you even doing here? You don’t work for G.M.! I want you out of my dream! Just leave me alone!” Angry tears streamed down my face and I sank to the floor, tired of yelling and tired of everything.


“You know I’m just here to help you do what’s best for you,” Tru Paul said, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Once you confront your situation with Alex, you’ll be able to wake up.”


“I am confronting it! I snuck into his house this morning, I found the locked drawer, and I’m going to go back and find out just what he’s got in there and why he stole the files.”


“Not that way, Stella. Honey, sneaking around and breaking into someone’s house is creepy and desperate. You’re acting crazy. Look at your life. Look at your choices.” I didn’t respond, so she went on. “We’re gonna get you all dressed up for the Christmas fundraiser, you’ll be the most beautiful woman there, and you can talk to Alex and Penelope like a civilized person. If you had just done this on your own, I wouldn’t have to drag them to your party, but you leave me no choice.”


I could see I wouldn’t get anywhere with Tru Paul. She was here to be my dream guide, but she just made everything more difficult. But how could I get rid of her?


“What night is the fundraiser?” I asked. “All this dream business has me a bit confused about dates.”


“It’s tomorrow night, honey.”


And then I knew exactly what I would do. I’d go to the ball, but I’d be fashionably late, because I had a stop to make on the way. And I would confront Alex at the fundraiser – with the contents of his locked drawer in hand.