The First Test
1543 Words
Though the city swarmed outside the tall windows, within the world belonged to people who had already mastered it.
Weeks of training had gone towards Lois Frazer learning to be Steve Reynolds's wife. She was supposed to polish it tonight.
A waiter passed, the smell of old bourbon trailing behind him. Feeling the weight of Steve, tall, calm, every inch of him radiating power, Lois moved next to him. His hand lightly touched her back, a reminder of the part she was required to perform; it was not loving but rather possessive.
"Smile," he said without glancing at her.
Though her pulse thums under the surface, Lois followed, her lips curling into something simple.
The room then took on different character.
A gentle but indisputable trickle of awareness. Eyes strayed. The voices sank. One person had arrived that changed the atmosphere subtly without words.
Steve's fingertips stopped against her back.
Lois followed his eye, her stomach turning at the sight of a man approaching them, confidence spun into every stride. He was tall, slim, with devil's grin and sharp cheekbones. His emerald-green suit was the kind of bold elegance only a man like him could execute, and dark hair swept easily away from his face.
Norman Early:
Lois felt no need for an introduction. She reacted right away. She knew everything from the way he stared at Steve, as if he were something Norman had once possessed, something he intended to recover.
"Steve," Norman said, voice full of fun. " Still as terrible as ever."
Steve's manner was etched on stone. "Norman".
The tension coiled between them, thick and invisible, felt to Lois.
Norman's eyes slid to her then, unhurried, evaluating. He started to smile. You also have to be the wife.
Something about his phrasing made Lois's skin tingle.
She reached out her hand, but Norman turned away. Rather, he moved in closer, purposefully slow in entering Steve's territory.
Norman said, his voice soft over steel: "You didn't tell me you'd settled down."
Steve responded nothing.
Lois started to turn her stomach.
Norman's smile got more wide.
She realised, then, this man was not here to bring peace.
Norman leaned against the bar and easily spun the amber liquid in his glass. His purposeful but laid-back attitude made it very evident that he was not only a visitor to this event. He exuded force.
Though Norman carried his dominance differently, Lois had encountered many men who flourished on control. It lacked Steve's loudness; all the edges were sharp and iron will was used. Norman's was subtle, invading talks and causing people to doubt themselves before they even knew they had been under influence.
Tonight she was his aim as well.
Norman asked, "So, Lois," dragging out her name like a secret he already knew. Tell me, how Steve got you persuaded to wed him? I picture he was not the ideal romantic kind.
Lois sipped her drink slowly, squarely addressing his stare. Maybe he had no need to persuade me.
Norman laughed, a deep, deliberate sound. "Oh, sweetheart," he answered naturally, "everyone convinces someone of something." Relationships thus operate.
Steve's fingers squeezed just barely against his glass.
Norman's sarcastic smile grew more pronounced. "At least that's how we operated."
Lois stiffened, but she pushed her face to be neutral. She will not let him know how his comments changed her.
Steve sighed and gently laid his glass down with deliberate accuracy. "Norman," he said with a tight tone.
Norman browsed. Indeed, honey?
Lois expected Steve to stop whatever game was running, to close him down. Rather, he said nothing. He just observed, letting Norman lead and engage in his little game.
The stomach of Lois turned.
Norman turned around back towards her. "You know," he remarked, as if revealing a secret, "Steve has a habit of keeping things locked tight. Makes one question what else he is hiding from us.
Lois choked, heat crawling across her face.
Norman's eyes veered to Steve; his smile never wavered. But again, I suppose you prefer your secrets, don't you?
Lois was at last tired enough. She put down her drink, prepared for departure.
But Steve's hand flew out before she could, snatching her wrist.
"Do you suppose you could manage this planet?" His voice was lethal but calm. "Because it's not as glitzy as you might believe."
Lois stopped; her pulse hammered under his hands.
Norman saw with fascination, a silent challenge dancing in his eyes.
Lois made herself start to breathe.
In that instant, she wasn't sure who she dreaded more—Steve for perhaps being right or Norman for his games.
The evening went on, a whirl of strained quiet and forced graces. Lois fulfilled her part, but something in her seemed uncomfortable.
Norman never really ventured from Steve's side. Every glance, every word was meant to remind her; she was an alien in a world she did not belong to.
Steve has hardly talked to her since their meeting. He was not obliged of course. His quiet spoke plenty.
At last Lois was on a quiet terrace, inhaling cool night air.
She was in need of space.
Needed clarity.
The metropolis opened up below, lights like far-off stars flickering.
A voice said, "You shouldn't look so miserable."
Lois tense.
Norman studied her with a sleepy kind of entertainment while leaning against the railing next to her.
"You belong nowhere here," he said. That must be tired.
Lois corrected her straightness. Still yet, here I am.
Norman laughed. For now only.
Lois turned totally to face him. " What do you want, Norman?"
He bent his head to think about her. "You know," he remarked at last, "Steve and I have history. Actually historical. The kind that doesn't just vanish regardless of how hard you pretend.
Lois said no and refrained from reacting. "Is that expected to scare me?"
Norman smirk. "It should," says.
Her phone hummed in her handbag.
Before pulling it out, Lois hesitated, fingers tightly gripping the gadget reading the message on the screen.
Your secret is known to me.
Her pulse jumped.
Norman regarded her, head slanted slightly as though he already understood the lesson.
Lois raised her head to meet his eye.
His arrogant lip curve told her, he did.
The penthouse seemed less than normal. In presence rather than in temperature. Steve Reynolds glided silently, distant, like a shadow across the room, as though Lois were absent entirely.
Sitting beside the window, she gazed at the city below, the skyline sharp and unbroken. Her mirror in the glass seemed hollow, doubtful.
Her life did not reflect this. Not particularly.
Steve poured himself a glass behind her, the sound of ice clinking on crystal shattering the quiet.
Turning to watch him, Lois turned Are we ever going to discuss this?
Steve turned not to look up. "About what?"
She waved blankly, frustration building in her body. "This marriage. This sequence. You rarely here, and when you are, it feels as though I do not exist.
He sipped slowly then gently laid down the glass with quiet accuracy. You sought security. I delivered it to you.
Lois gulped the lump from her throat. And then that's it.
Steve looked at her at last, but his look was not warm. "What did you hope?"
She detested the way his words tightened her chest. Angry that, even knowing exactly what this was, she still yearned for anything greater.
She added, voice lower now: "You don't have to shut me out."
Steve's jaw jerked with a muscular reaction. He moved aside, discounting the entire exchange.
Lois started to tighten her hands. You cannot keep acting in this way.
Steve let out a clipped breath. "Lois, this is how things go. You were right.
Her breath choked. He was withdrawing more, hiding behind the frigid walls he constructed about himself.
She yearned for battle. To seek more. Then, however,
A flutter of motion over the gateway.
The heart stuttered in Lois.
One individual was standing there observing. Though his presence was subdued, his dark, calculated gaze suggested something sinister.
The moment stretched, taut with discomfort.
Then he vanished just as fast.
Lois looked at Steve, but he had not seen.
Her pulse pounded.
Lois struggled to get rid of the sensation.
The man standing in the gateway. The manner he had stayed just long enough for her to see.
Her head whirling, she sat in the bedroom. Though the city lights flashed outside the window, all she could see was the gleam in the eyes of that stranger.
For whom was he?
And why did she suppose she had seen him before?
Her phone vibrated.
Lois grabbed it, fingers tightly encircling the tool.
fresh message.
Someone is watching you.
Her stomach turned.
She listened then turned to face the door. The penthouse was vacant. Steve was still in his office lost in whatever deal kept him so preoccupied.
Yet another vibration.
She dropped her gaze.
Furthermore Steve? Not who he claims to be.
Her limbs started to feel cold.
Heart pounding, Lois shot from the bed. She examined the sender, unidentified number.
Her hold tightened.
Was this a forewarnment? Perhaps a threat as well.
Hesitancy biting at her, she turned towards the office.
- Writer
