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You just rolled over and went to sleep. Then I just lay there all freaked out for hours!” Samantha sobbed and leaned in so Jason could hug her. As he put his other arm around her, he said, “I’m sorry, babe. I have no idea what that was about. I don’t remember that at all, but it must have been a bad dream I was acting out or something, like before.”

Sam looked up at him.

“I guess. I don’t know,” she said as she nuzzled into his chest. They stayed like that for a few minutes until Jason broke the silence.

“I do have to go soon. Can’t be late on my first day.” He peeled himself from her and looked her in the eyes.

“I’m sorry that happened. Just the stress of moving and starting the new job and everything, I bet.”

He kissed her cheek.

“I love you,” he said and kissed the other cheek.

“Love you too,” Sam whispered back.

CHAPTER 4

Jason laced up his shoes, stood up, and looked at himself in the hallway mirror. It was his first day of work, and he was supposed to dress business-casual. “Whatever that means,” he thought. He slid his thin winter jacket over his white, freshly pressed dress shirt, careful not to mess up his neatly combed hair. He took a final look up and down his monotone outfit.

“Go get ’em, tiger,” he said to his reflection with a wink and a finger gun before reaching for the door.

* * *

The elevator opened into the lobby with a ding. As Jason exited, he could see that it was raining heavily outside. He had meant to pick up an umbrella at the market the day before, since he knew Seattle’s reputation for being soggy, but he had forgotten. He slowly walked toward the main doors and stopped, staring up at the grey sky, lost in thought.

“There is an umbrella-lending kiosk right over there,” the concierge said politely, gesturing towards the little space-age cube just to the side of his desk.

“So that’s what that is,” Jason responded as he turned to step towards it. As he passed the office, he could see Chester inside, immersed in his paperwork.

“It’s free. You just make a profile and enter your credit card information. Then you use your profile to borrow an umbrella anytime you need one. You have 24 hours to return it,” the well-dressed concierge instructed.

“Or I’ll get charged, I guess,” Jason mused.

“That is correct, sir. Twenty-five dollars.”

The concierge then turned to accept a package from a courier.

Jason inspected the kiosk, quickly created a profile, and grabbed his loaner umbrella. He thanked the concierge and headed for the door.

As Jason passed the office again, he glanced in to see Chester was gone; the desk clean and tidy.

Outside, Jason opened the black umbrella and headed towards his new office. It was only a 10-minute walk, which was a nice change from his long commute back home. The other significant difference was the weather. Back home was freezing, and there had been snow on the ground for months.

Here, in Seattle, it would snow for perhaps a week or two over the entire year.

But the rain was relentless. And the air was damp and heavy. It wasn’t freezing like back in Pennsylvania; it was a trickier kind of cold. It would sneak in under your skin and firmly attach itself to your bones. There it would stay until you could drive it from your body with hot soup or a warm bath.

While the large umbrella protected much of Jason’s upper body from the fat drops of rain, it did nothing for his feet. By the time he entered the office building, the rain had soaked his shoes and socks, and his pant legs dripped at the cuffs.

“Damn it,” he cursed as he stomped and shook his feet to shake off the offending water. People milled around him, heading to their destinations, seemingly unaffected by the weather.

Leaving a small puddle on the lobby floor, Jason made his way towards the elevator.

There were already several people waiting for the elevator, so Jason pulled out his phone from his pocket. It was a quarter to nine. Jason preferred being early to being on time, or God forbid, late. If he felt like he was running late, Jason tended to become very anxious and irritable. This behavior would inevitably lead to arguments with Samantha, especially since she happened to be a little more laid back than he was.

On several occasions, she had questioned why he would get so upset when getting ready to go somewhere and he felt they were running late. To Jason it was about integrity. Being somewhere when you said you’d be, and doing something you said you would.

“It’s kinda rare these days,” he would finish.

“Ok,” Sam would say, “but we’re just going to the mall.”

The lobby bell rang, and the elevator opened. It quickly filled like a packed sardine tin, Jason being the last one to fit. He turned around and saw that someone had already pressed his floor’s button, lighting it up. The door closed in front of him.

As the elevator rose, each person’s individual scent began to mingle into one confused fog. There was a loud talker at the back recounting her “amazing” weekend to her friend. Someone stank of cigarettes, and another had coffee breath. Jason held his own breath as best he could to avoid the offensive aroma. People excused themselves past Jason until they reached the 12th floor. The door opened with a loud ding, and Jason exited gratefully. He inhaled deeply, turned to his right, and moved towards the receptionist’s desk.

Clicking away on her keyboard, the young woman said, “Good morning, you have reached Intellican; how may I help you?”

“Oh, hi, I’m Jason. I’m starting to—“

“Just one moment, please, I’ll put you through,” she interjected, and then looked up to lock eyes with Jason. “Sorry, I was speaking to the caller.”

“Oh, of course,” Jason fumbled. “Hard to tell, I guess. Sorry about

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