The alarm, a splitting headache, and a body that was sore all over woke Martin up at the usual time the next morning. At least he was able to switch off the alarm, although even that movement was painful. Coffee and headache pills were immediately required. He flicked on the coffee maker, and headed straight for the shower.

With no stomach for breakfast, he just had the coffee and the painkillers, and headed out early for the subway. It was busier than usual because he was leaving slightly earlier, so he again had to stand. The hot shower had helped his aching muscles, and he had stretched enough of them when putting on his clothes that the pain had mostly subsided. The headache remained, due in no small part to guilt, he felt. Nothing more painful than a guilty conscience.

The train squealed and rumbled along underground all the way down to Eglinton, where it briefly surfaced to give them a look at the Mount Pleasant Cemetery, which was positively verdant in the early morning sunlight. Strange to think that such a beautiful place could serve such a sombre purpose. After the brief glimpse of daylight and greenery, the train turned its nose downward, and they descended once more into the dark.

The vision of the security guard opening the door, the blood springing onto his shirt, and then his limp collapse to the floor was one which he was not able to switch off. It had invaded his subconscious in dreams, and it played itself over and over in his mind whenever his concentration would wander for a second.

The world of crime had always seemed so glamorous and exciting when he read about all those detectives and villains, cops and robbers, shootings and car chases, interrogations and smart aleck replies. And the occasional innocent bystander getting killed just heightened the resolve to solve the case and get the bad guy. It was all so utterly divorced from the reality he now knew as to be absurd to him. He knew that he would never be able to read and enjoy another of those books again. That left westerns and war novels. And other stuff, surely. What else was out there?

The elevator door opened on the 46th floor, and he stood for a moment before he realized it was his floor. He caught the door as it was closing, it opened again, and he stepped out into the hallway to many a disgusted look from the crowd. No delays allowed! Anger welled up in him all of a sudden.

"Well, excuse the fuck out of me! So sorry you'll all be six seconds late for work!"

The people all looked shocked and horrified. Someone had spoken to them on an elevator! Two people quickly pressed the Door Close button to get away from this freak. The doors closed on the image of these harried nine-to-fivers looking worriedly at each other, as if noticing for the first time that there were other passengers in the car next to them.

Martin felt much better for having said this, and he walked into the office with a little more bounce in his step.

"Good morning, Janice."

"Good morning, Martin. How are you today?"

"Surviving."

"Oh, I hope your day gets better."

"Thanks."

He put his lunch in the fridge and poured himself another coffee, before walking over to the cube, setting down the coffee and removing his jacket. Preemptive good mornings all around, greeting Dave and Darlene before they greeted him, and warning Dave that he'd be babbling any second now. He switched on his computer and went right into his calendar for the word of the day:

Frondescent - (frond-e-sent) a. Springing into leaf; expanding into fronds.

"It was a beautiful spring day, and all the trees in the valley were frondescent in the bright sunshine."

A familiar voice came from behind the cubicle wall. "How poetic."

"Thank-you, Dave."

He looked around at his cubicle. Saw all the files that had piled up, correspondence waiting for reply, quotes waiting to be quoted. It was clear that his mind hadn't been on his job over the last couple of days. Why did the desk seem so much smaller today? On a whim, he decided to pay Gerry a visit.

"Yes, Martin? What can I do for you?"

"Gerry, I'd like to talk about my future prospects with the company."

"Sit down. What do you mean, future prospects?"

Martin sat in the chair across from her. "How do I get ahead in this company? The corporate ladder thing."

She looked at him for a second, her face showing her surprise. "When did you become so ambitious?"

"Why is that such a surprise? Doesn't everyone want to move ahead?"

"Martin, you have sat in the same desk for 15 years. You've been here longer than me and everyone else in the department. And you've never mentioned anything like this before. Can't you see how this would come as a surprise?"

He reflected on that and nodded. "I guess so, when you put it like that."

"Well, I don't think you're cut out to be a manager. I mean, you work best independently."

"No, I agree."

"Which leaves Head Office. There's often underwriting specialty positions where your technical knowledge would be an asset. Working in Underwriting Admin?"

"Yeah," said Martin. "That sounds like a better fit."

"I'll let H.R. know that you're thinking about a move, and to let us know if something comes open. Meanwhile, don't piss off the people in Admin. And watch for any internal postings in the staff room"

"Thanks a lot. I'll keep my eyes open."

"What am I going to do without my Senior Underwriter?"

"I'm not gone, yet."

He returned to his desk to try to make some headway into the backlog. But the phone kept ringing, and people kept coming up with problems. Either claims files or an opinion on a quote. It was one of those mornings when interruptions conspire to keep you from your work, when you could least afford it. It was just one more phone call, just before noon.

"Hello, Martin Porchnik speaking."

"Good morning. I wanted to call to thank you for your recent assistance."

"Who is this?"

"You helped to rid me of my two bothersome associates with little or no vexation on my part, and for that you have my gratitude."

"Mr. Smith?"

"Sometimes."

"How did you—"

"How did I obtain your name? I spoke to my good friend Tom Peterson. I can be very persuasive. And, as I said, I really had to thank you."

The nerve of this guy, thought Martin. "Well, at least you didn't get what you needed."

"No, and that is regrettable. But I have already found an alternate source for the missing information, which may prove to be even more fruitful than this one in the long run."

"You won't get away with it. Your 'associate' probably gave your name to the police right away when he was arrested. The one who lived, I mean."

"I am certain he did. But I was checking out of the hotel and discarding my former identity even as they were on their way to be caught in your little trap."

"You knew about that?"

"Oh, yes. I thought it was brilliant. I played along, of course."

"I have call display, you know."

"I really don't think your call display will be of much use in tracking my disposable mobile phone in a moving vehicle."

"So what do you want from me?"

"I want to know why you did all this. I want to understand you."

"Why do you care?"

"In my line of work, you never know who your opponent will be. But I never thought it would be an insurance clark with a grudge."

"First of all, I'm not a clerk, I'm an Underwriter. And it wasn't a grudge. The file was forced on me, but it had my name on it, and it just didn't add up. I couldn't just leave it, for some reason. To tell you the truth, I don't know why, but I took the loss personally. There have been lots of losses before. But not like this one. I had to make sure the guys who pulled this one were caught."

"You see, that just fascinates me. It was highly entertaining watching you work."

"Well, I'm so glad I can be your entertainment."

"Mr. Porchnik, I am certain that you must feel very insulated from me. Very safe. As though there is no way I could touch you, way up there on the 46th floor. Be glad that you amuse me. Good day to you, sir."

Martin hung up the phone feeling absolutely numb. He had no fear left. Let him do his worst. It was no more than he deserved. Did Mike Hammer ever let the bad guy get away? That would be a definite character flaw. Oh, well. At least he got two of them. And that will mark the end of his short-lived detective career, that's for sure. He gave up on his work and went to get his lunch out of the fridge. He ate his sandwich there in the lunchroom, giving his mind a break. Not speaking, not reading, no stimuli of any kind. The old brain had been over-stimulated lately. He needed to just decompress and think about everything that had happened.

Just as he was cleaning up his stuff and throwing his plastic wrapper in the garbage, the door opened and Holly came in. She didn't look surprised to see him, but he was known for his consistent habits.

"Hi, Holly," he said and then looked away. "I was just, um..." So embarrassing. This is why you should never ask out a co-worker. Because then when she says no, you still see her at work.

"Hi, Martin," said Holly. She wasn't moving toward the fridge. Just standing there resolutely, so he looked to see what she wanted. She was looking at him expectantly and when she caught his eye, she began. "I just wanted you to understand that I've got two kids, a dog, a house, a dead husband and a car that's making a funny noise, just so you're aware. But if you're okay with all that, yes, I'd like to go out with you. If your offer still stands."

Some kind of fear reflex sprung up into his brain all on its own. The Danger! warnings were all there: he'd been down this road before, it went nowhere, it would all end in pain, he was not cut out for a relationship, it would have happened by now if it was going to, she would tear his heart out and feed it to him for breakfast, it was too big a risk. Where was that confidence he'd felt the other day? But what had his life been like since he stopped taking risks? Safe? Boring. Well, not exactly boring when you consider... Oh, what the hell.

"Yes, it does," he said. "Holly, I already knew all that when I asked you. Well, except for the funny noise. I just want you to understand that I know nothing about car engines."

She laughed. "That's okay."

That was a nice laugh. He hadn't heard her laugh much for a long time. Now who said what? It had been a long time since Martin had done any of this. "So, do you have a babysitter?"

"Yes, my mother. We won't have to take the kids with us."

"Good start. Would Saturday night work, then?"

"That's what I was thinking. Weeknights are too much of a rush."

"Good. Yes. How about I pick you up at around 7:00?"

"Sure. You'll need, um, why don't I just e-mail you my address and cell phone number?"

"Great." He didn't know what to do with his hands, so he put one in his pocket and patted his thigh with the other. He felt like he was posing for a Sears catalog photo. "So, I'll just head back to my desk. Because I already ate my lunch."

"Great. And thanks for asking."

"Okay," said Martin. He moved past her. "Have a good lunch." And away he went, back to his desk, wondering how this all happened. Against all odds he had asked her, and against all odds she had said yes. Well, 'no' at first. Which is almost what he expected. Maybe he asked her because he thought she would say no. He could've asked Janice, who was flirty and single. But he just enjoyed Holly's company more. All those lunches together. There was a comfort factor and he needed to be comfortable or he would be a basket case. No, this was good. He was going on a date with his friend, Holly.

* * *

Thanks for reading all the way to the end. I hope you enjoyed it and always appreciate your comments (& votes!). If you liked Risk, you might also enjoy my latest novel called The Launch. It has elements of crime fiction because it's about a kidnapping, but it also has more humor and also original comics written by me and illustrated by DC Comics artist Tim Levins. It's a lot of fun.