A Transforming World Story

by D.X. Machina

June 12-15, 2005

"Anger and jealousy can no more bear to lose sight of their objects than love."

--George Eliot

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1

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Will Trenary sat in the bar, stubbing out his cigarette half in anger, half in frustration.

He hadn't intended to go to the bar tonight; heck, he rarely went to the bar as it was. Life for him had become numb routine—work, come home, watch television, sleep, get up,eat, work. It wasn't what he'd envisioned 27 would be like.

He'd figured by now he'd have met a nice girl, settled down. Maybe had a kid—or at least work on having a kid.

Of course, that was the problem; he already had.

Unfortunately for Will, the perfect woman was Jill Belisle. She wasn't model-gorgeous, but she was cute, with a petite dancer's build, shoulder length dirty-blonde hair that bounced just-so when she laughed, deep blue eyes that Will thought he could stare into forever.

More than that, though—she was funny, smart, talented. She was easy to be with. Yes, Will believed he could live happily with Jill for the rest of his life.

Unfortunately, Jill was married to Dan Belisle. Will's best friend.

And so Will did what any sane man would do when faced with this situation; he'd pushed his feelings deep inside him, especially when he was around Jill and Dan. Most especially when he ran into Jill when she wasn't with Dan. He would keep his fantasies to himself. He would never try to woo Jill away from Dan. He couldn't possibly.

But of course, the feelings that we bury deep have a way of bubbling up uncontrollably.

They'd been at a barbecue—their mutual friend Steve had invited a bunch of the gang over. It had been fun. They'd played bocce ball (poorly, but with trash talking aplenty), and tipped a beer or two, and had a good time.

And Will had done a very good job not noticing when Jill let her guard down, just a bit, and he could see straight up her short summer dress.

And he turned away calmly to go get a beer when Dan and Jill enjoyed a quick-but-passionate kiss.

And he gave no sign to anyone that there was a primitive part of his brain that wanted very much to smash Dan's head in with a rock and drag Jill back to his cave.

Will had behaved himself; nobody could argue differently.

Which is why he was sitting in a suburban sports bar an hour before bar time, trying to stay just buzzed enough to numb the pain, just sober enough to remain fit to drive.

"Tough night, I see."

He wheeled, and saw the man sitting a couple stools down from him, looking back with a blasé countenance.

"Meh," Will grunted, looking at his half-gone Capital Hefeweizen.

The man pulled out a card, and set it by Will.

Will sighed; he was not interested in becoming a Scientologist or Raelian or Amway distributor or whatever else this guy was pushing. Still, his eyes locked on the card,which was simple in its message.

GET THE GIRL OF YOUR DREAMS

Mr. Big Enterprises

MAKING FANTASY REALITY

414-555-1313

The card was blank save those four lines.

Will looked up at the man, and said, quietly, "I can't get the girl of my dreams. Wouldn't be right."

The stranger slid one chair down, and motioned to the bartender. "Tell me about it."

So Will did.

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Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was just the polish of the man, the salesman's charm behind the sangfroid. But Will found himself telling the stranger all about Gillian Scott—that is, Gillian Belisle.

"We were just out of college," Will told him, tipping back the fresh beer. "Dan and Steveand I were living in a small house we were renting—Steve was in business school, Dan was in law school, I was working my first job. We had a good time.

"Anyhow, after we'd been there a year we throw an Independence Day party. I mean, we were three twenty-three-year-olds with a house; it was a good time. Anyhow, our friend Rachel—she was two years behind us, going into her senior year—she brings her roommate for the next year to the party.

"I wanted to, man, I wanted to put the moves on right then. But I couldn't; my girlfriend was at the party and we'd been dating for about four months or so, and I thought I liked her. Dan, though—he was single. And he would've been crazy to pass on the opportunity."

The stranger nodded sagely. "Sounds like quite a woman."

"She is," said Will, wiping his eyes. "Anyhow, they hit it off, one thing leads to another, they get engaged two years later, got married last year. The punchline? My girlfriendand I broke up that August. Funny, huh? We hold a Labor Day party, maybe it's me chatting up Jill."

Will looked down at the bar. "No; no. I'm glad Dan got her. At least—you know, he's like my brother. It's just…."

"…You wish you could get a bit of a chance with her too, now and again," the stranger said, completing Will's sentence.

Will nodded mutely. "I—hell, I'd take one night with her, you know? Even if it didn't lead to anything else. Even if that was all I ever got. It'd be enough."

The stranger nodded, and smiled wanly. "What would you say if I told you I could get that for you? At least some of it, anyhow."

Will snorted derisively. "Yeah. You have a way I could be with Jill with her liking it? Without it hurting Dan? Without Dan hurting me? Right."

The smile on the stranger widened a bit; had Will been sober, he might have noticed the calculation in it. But the stranger simply said, "Right," and pulled from his pocket a pamphlet.

"Look this over," the stranger said, rising. "If you like what it says, call me tomorrow. If not—well, forget we ever met. Bartender, I'll pay for his tab."

Will stuffed the pamphlet in a pocket, waved thanks to the guy, and prepared never to see him again.

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He took a cab home; it was the only sane decision he could've made.

He wasn't stoked about having to take a cab back to get his car the next day, but he knew too many lawyers to think that risking a DUI was cheaper than calling a cab.

As the taxi pulled out of the lot, he reached in his pocket for the pamphlet; it'd give him something to read on the way home, he figured. Something to laugh at.

He read through the information quickly, including the not-insignificant price tag.

If he'd read it two years before, he would have laughed it off as fantasy. But such things were possible; the question wasn't whether it could be done, but whether the stranger could do it.

He tipped the hack generously, got out and headed into the apartment, his mind racing. He'd be insignificant; Jill wouldn't even know he existed in this scenario.

But that, he soon realized, didn't bother him.

Indeed, it set his heart racing in a new and different way.

He put the card and the pamphlet by the phone in the kitchen. He'd sleep on it. Maybe in the morning he'd find it was just a dream.

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His dreams were filled with her; they often were. Her smell, her face, her tits….

"Take me, Will," she said to him, licking his face like an animal. "Take me now."

"I love you," he said.

Jill merely smiled.

He woke up with morning wood and a wicked hangover. He got up, headed to the kitchen and started brewing coffee; remembered to his chagrin that he'd have to pick up the car from the bar.

He spied the pamphlet out of the corner of his eye; it hadn't disappeared.

He looked at it for a long time before he picked up the phone.