Rachel's former husband. ~And if not him, there are always others.~

Smiling inwardly, Althea waited for what the morning would bring. sem

Rachel woke up to her alarm at four thirty the next morning. She looked out the window to a pitch-black sky, but a soft breeze stirred the curtains. Despite the hellishly early hour, she felt refreshed and invigorated. After a quick shower, she got dressed for court, using the clothes which she had set out the night before.

Standing in front of her vanity in her bedroom, she applied Lipstick and a small, tasteful amount of cosmetics and jewelry. She examined her image critically, and nodded in satisfaction. The burgundy blouse was attractive without seeming overdone, and the black jacket and matching skirt were solidly professional. She Looked exactly Like what she was: a successful attorney in one of Chicago's top law firms.

She cocked an eye at her reflection as she brushed her coal-black hair.

Thick and lustrous, it seemed too short, barely reaching her shoulders.

Maybe I should grow it out again. Josh always liked it long. I don't have to prove anything to anyone at the firm these days. No sense in trying to look like a man. They all know I've got a set of tits under the blouse.

She was out the door by five thirty. Due to the early hour, traffic was practically non-existent, and she was walking in the door to her office in the Sears (never, ever the Willis) Tower in plenty of time for her early meeting. The office was in a corner on the seventy-eighth floor, so high she nearly got vertigo when she looked out. To the east, she could see small pleasure-boats already sailing out onto Lake Michigan doubtless containing happy young people taking advantage of the unseasonably warm day to enjoy an early start to the weekend.

Jeremy came in the open door and handed her a large coffee and a bagel before she could sit down.

"I've got you trained well," she remarked with a smile, taking a large sip of the heavily-sweetened drink.

“And now you'll have to go to the trouble of training a new intern once

I leave," the young man said, grinning crookedly. He took a drink from a bottle of diet soda he held in his other hand.

Rachel looked at it and shuddered.

“I can't understand how you can drink that horrible stuff so early in the morning.”

Jeremy shrugged.

“I never could stand coffee. And I need something to wake me up. I think I might be in the wrong profession. I could be working in a nice calm call-center for a credit card company. In at nine, out at five. Sleep until seven o'clock every day. Sounds like heaven to me."

She laughed, the sound echoing through the nearly-empty office.

“Yes, and go gradually insane." She shook a finger at him.

“I know you too well. You're too ambitious to spend the rest of your life as a phone drone." She took a bite of her bagel, savoring the toasted heat and the thick cream cheese Jeremy had spread on it for her. ALL of her senses seemed alive this morning, her wits sharp and keen.

I'm happy, she thought suddenly. Despite the early hour and the prospect of a long, uphill battle against a group of Lawyers who could smell weakness like a shark could smell blood in the water, she was alive with good cheer. The thought saddened her paradoxically. It had been too long since she had felt like this. When was it, she thought, that the joy of life went away? When she became content with the ephemeral pleasures of the business world over the needs of the body, the desires of the flesh?