Taming A Jerk - Ch. 1 (Box Shaped Heart Side Story, Patreon Exclusive) (Patreon)

And here Alex's adventures (not exactly in Wonderland) begin. Since some of you asked me to give him a second chance, that's exactly what will go on in this story. However, Alex will have to earn that second chance, so it won't be all roses and wine for him. The story starts during the body swap, to give you, guys, a clear idea of what's going on. 

Chapter One - The In-Between

Were dreams supposed to be this vivid? Alex struggled against his heavy eyelids. And why on earth was he dreaming about his mother above all else he could dream of? It wasn’t particularly entertaining. Oh, he was in it, as well. And he had to be around five years old, or six. 

“Mom,” dream Alex moaned while dragging his blankie after him.

It was a bad dream if he had to remember such an ugly blanket. The pattern was horrendous. What could have his mother been thinking at that time? Otherwise, the woman had always had perfect taste in everything, down to napkins and toothpicks. Oh, his mother hadn’t picked that. It had been his nana, a woman of uncertain age, called Rose.

“Mo-ther. How many times do I have to tell you, Alex? Address me correctly. We are not some poor people living on welfare. So, repeat after me. Mo-ther,” the woman insisted while making the last retouches to her flawless makeup.

Five or six-year-old Alex could not appreciate his mother’s choice of war paint at the time, but he knew instinctively his mom, no, mo-ther, was displeased with him. So he stopped in the door, unsure if it was safe to take another step into his parents’ bedroom.

“Where is dad?” he asked.

His mother finally stopped from fixing her face to look at him. 

“Come to me, Alex,” she opened her arms, making the nightgown she was wearing float like colorful wings around her.

His mother was beautiful. Like an actress. But she wasn’t one. She was a housewife. That was what Rose was saying. A desperate housewife. Why desperate? Alex hadn’t gotten the allusion at the time.

“Your father has decided to go live someplace else, with another family, Alex,” his mother explained. “So it will be just the two of us from now on. Won’t it be fun?”

She distracted him by starting to show him her makeup kit. There were so many colors there, and his mother knew everything about colors, matching them, and using them to make herself even more beautiful than she was.

It hadn’t been just the two of them after that. His mother had remarried twice and had had plenty of affairs. And, in the meantime, they had never been just the two of them.

“Alex? Alex Miller?” someone called for him.

All right. Time to dream was over. His eyes snapped open. A woman between ages, who definitely looked like a dead ringer for Yolanda, his boss at Beauty Ex, was touching his shoulder.

“Alex Ruskin, actually,” he replied while straightening himself up.

“People go by their real names in here, dear,” the woman corrected him, using a maternal, sugary voice.

Alex looked around. It looked like he was in a waiting lobby of sorts. The furniture was minimal, and everything was white. It was a tad too simplistic for his taste. Maybe they hadn’t had the money for a real interior decorator.

The lack of artistic vision in the room layout was not answering his question, nonetheless.

“Could you please tell me where am I?” he asked, looking back at the woman. “Ah, and my real name is Alex Ruskin. I am married,” he added.

He could overlook the mishap, but now he was wondering who had made the appointment in his name. If it was his assistant who had done it, the man was going to find a new place to work soon. Ah, wait, he had just fired the guy.

“That you may think you are, dear,” the woman stopped his train of thought. “But you know you don’t exactly feel married,” she said while shaking her head and pursing her lips in disapproval.

What was that supposed to mean? Setting his chin high, and making sure his voice was as icy as it could possibly be, he hurried to contradict her.

“I am definitely married. See?” he put up his left hand.

And stared in disbelief at his naked ring finger. 

“What is this place?” he put his hand down, and this time, he didn’t hide his displeasure when looking at his presumptive host. “My wedding ring has obviously been stolen!”

“Now-now dear,” the woman took him by one arm, bent on making him follow her. “Nothing’s been stolen. Actually, we are surprised to find you here. But, thinking about the circumstances ...” the woman shook her head, and her voice dropped low as if she was talking to herself, “it all makes sense in a way.”

Alex could feel a cold chill down his back.

“Am I in a mental institution?”

Everything white, people bent on contradicting guests ... That could be.

“No, dear,” the woman shook her head and gestured for him to enter an office that seemed just as white as the waiting lobby. “I will try to explain things to you since your overseer is not available at the moment.”

“Overseer?” Alex mumbled. “Is this some prank? Who uses such a word? Is this some reality show? I don’t remember giving my consent. I strongly advise that you don’t keep me here against my will, or I will sue,” he said in a heartbeat.

He seriously didn’t have time for this. There was at least one photo shoot to attend today, and later he had plans with Simon. 

“See? How can you say you’re married while thinking of another man?” the woman scolded him.

Alex could feel his jaw dropping. Also, the chill on his back was getting worse.

“What kind of a TV show is this? How ... Can you read minds?!” he almost yelled.

His voice, when high-pitched, was getting weird. He was usually avoiding doing that. Yet, right now, he couldn’t stop.

“Please, have a seat, Alex,” his host gestured for a white leather chair.

He sat, feeling his blood draining from his upper body.

“Have I ...” he licked his lips, now dry like paper. “Have I lost my mind?”

“Dear, this is not a mental institution. We call it, for the sake of our guests,” the woman said while linking her hands and placing them under her chin, “the In-Between.”

“Interesting name,” Alex frowned. “But,” he raised one finger, “I am signed with Beauty Ex for at least two more years. And I have no intentions to change that. Well, except for the right incentive, of course.”

“Not even for a household name?” the woman smiled at him, and that made his frown grow deeper.

“I feel like I am at the receiving end of some bad joke,” he said sternly.

The woman sighed now.

“We wish it was a joke. The truth is, Alex, you shouldn’t be here. You should be already on the other side of the river.”

Alex pinched the bridge of his nose. No, he wasn’t the one insane. But the woman in front of him was speaking gibberish.

“I believe I took enough of your time,” he stood up. “Don’t worry; I will see myself out.”

There was no point in making a scene. The woman seemed harmless, and the fact that she looked like Yolanda made Alex feel a bit strange to start yelling at her. So he could be civil and walk out.

The waiting lobby seemed to have one door, and he went for it. 

“What on earth?” he murmured.

It was locked.

All right, he was getting upset enough to start yelling at his un-obliging host. The theory of a reality show sounded more accurate than ever. So, they wanted to see him lose his cool. Taking off his wedding ring, having him stuck in a white office with some lunatic who somehow knew about Simon.

Wait. Simon. No. No, the guy could not have sold him out like this. Simon was as gullible as a three-year-old. He had not one ounce of evil in his slim body. And what a body he had, Alex mused. Had he not been so keen on never encouraging competition, he would have told the guy to apply for a modeling position. Maybe they could have even shot some ads together.

But no. Simon was way too good-looking, and Alex knew he wasn’t going to be an attractive twink forever. Simon was younger. Well off, so he didn’t need the money. Not the way Alex needed money. Also, if Simon was starting to model, he was bound to steal the show. And that, for no reason at all. It would have just pissed him off.

“Sorry, Simon, only enough room for one name up in lights,” he spoke out loud.

Hmm, he didn’t mean to say that. He pushed away the thought as he noticed a key in a beautiful bowl placed on a small coffee table. Oh, so it was like an escape room sort of situation? They really wanted to see him losing his cool.

Well, he had no intention to give them the satisfaction. Calmly, he picked up the key, held it with two fingers, and looked around. Where could they have hidden the cameras? Maybe they had used some paint to conceal them? It wasn’t impossible. 

With a shrug, he decided to try the door with the key he had just found. Straightening up some invisible wrinkles on his t-shirt, he walked toward the door.

Where was the door? He frowned and shook his head. He was pretty confident it was on that wall. Whatever technologies they were using for this prank had to cost a fortune. All for the better. That meant they had enough money to stop him from suing them.

He looked down. A small door was there, but it was apparently impossible for a human being to go through it. Not even a little person could. Nonetheless, he had a key, and he had to try it. Maybe it was going to reveal a piece of the puzzle. 

He knelt and began fiddling with the lock. It worked. Great. They were going to say about him that he was not only good looking but smart, too. He could picture the titles.

“We tried to prank Alex Ruskin, but he out-pranked us! Who would have thought the guy has the brains, not just the looks?” he mumbled to himself.

He pushed open the little door.

What ...?! The door was even smaller?! How could that be? And how were they doing it before his very eyes? 

Now he was going to have to lie flat on his stomach if he hoped to see something through that door and get the next piece of the puzzle.

Just as he was trying to figure out a way to do that without showing some lousy angle for the cameras that he still didn’t know where they were, the door seemed to shrink a few more inches.

“No, no, no,” he said through his teeth as he almost threw himself to the floor.

The door disappeared, engulfed by the wall, before his eyes. Ah, damn it! He almost wanted to manifest his frustration by punching the floor or a wall. But no, he was who he was because he knew exactly when to smile.

And this was the sort of situation to show the idiots who were trying to prank him that he never ever lost his cool.

What was supposed to be the next step? It looked like he needed to go back to the office, and talk again to the lady host. 

He knocked shortly and stepped inside. The desk behind which the woman sat was now covered with files, and the lady was busy searching for something in a drawer.

“Ahem,” he coughed discreetly, to draw her attention.

“Where could that be?” the woman was talking to herself. 

“Could you please show me the way out?” Alex spoke out loud.

The woman stopped and looked at him.

“Alex, please, sit down. I should have the protocol for such situations somewhere, but I don’t seem to find it. This place, I swear, is always a mess.”

“What protocol?” Alex could feel getting irritated by the second. “I don’t like throwing empty threats, but I feel like I have to say it. Let me out, or there will be consequences. I have a photo shoot coming up. I am certain my boss is pulling out her hair right now, wondering where I am and ...”

“Yes?” the woman stopped her frantic search to look at him. “What else, Alex? What are you forgetting?”

It was there, on the tip of his tongue. Of course, there was his plan of meeting Simon later, but that was not it.

“Aron asked you to think about going to see his parents this weekend,” the woman said and kept her round, witty eyes trained on him. “But you don’t intend to go,” she continued. “You haven’t seen your in-laws in almost half a year, and, if you were never to visit, that wouldn’t be an issue with you.”

Alex sat on the chair, without protesting anymore.

“How do you know all this?” he murmured, the fear of cameras catching him unawares gone from his mind.

“It is our job,” the woman said. “Now, if only I could find the protocol ... All right, we will have to do without it. Shall we begin?”

“By all means,” Alex sat back in his chair.

The woman sat her hands primly on the desk, took one look down, as if to prepare herself, and then looked Alex straight in the eye.

“You should be dead.”

A cold chill ran down his spine in an instant.

“All right,” he murmured, trying to get a hold of himself. “This is no longer a joke. Please let me out of here. I won’t sue. Just … let me out.”

He had no idea why he suddenly felt so scared. But he could feel cold sweat pooling at the small of his back, and he knew he was trapped in that strange place. No matter how absurd that was. He shivered and crossed his arms over his chest to keep warm.

“Unfortunately, we cannot do anything about the chills,” the woman said sympathetically. “Since you were so close to dying, they are a natural effect.”

“You must be kidding me,” Alex spoke. “What is this about me dying? I don’t remember anything …”

His voice trailed off. So he was in a hospital, after all. Only that it was the strangest, he had ever visited in his life.

“You almost got hit by a truck,” the woman explained.

“So I survived,” Alex said, trying to understand his situation.

“Due to a rather peculiar situation, but yes,” the woman reinforced her words

“So, is there a reason why I’m being kept here? I don’t feel … injured,” he said, measuring his words.

The woman grimaced, and her eyes narrowed for a second like she was in pain.

“There is a small problem. Your body is inhabited by someone else.”

Alex could feel his jaw dropping, and his eyes bulging, threatening to jump out of their sockets.

“I … all right,” he licked his lips, feeling them dry like parchment. “So the reason I’m being kept here is that I am, somehow, in a mental state that …”

The woman shook her head.

“No, Alex. I understand how such an event can be hard to believe, but let me show you.”

She reached for the papers on her desk and for several seconds she made them levitate.

“This must be some trick,” Alex protested.

“You can do it, too. Just try it,” the woman encouraged him.

After a short moment of hesitation, he put his arm out and looked at the papers. They began floating before his very eyes.

“All right,” he exhaled. “I can make objects move. Why can’t I just walk out of here? I told you. I have an important photo shoot …”

“Alex,” the woman put her hands up, in an attempt to stop the flow of words coming out of his mouth. “As long as your overseer is not present, we cannot decide your case. Also, there is the hassle with the body swap.”

“As far as I can see, my body is right here,” Alex pointed out.

“Dear, I’m afraid you’re immaterial, and so are your protests,” the woman punned promptly and began laughing. “No, what you see is a representation of yourself and not your real body. By the way, here’s another proof. That birthmark, that little thing next to your belly button which you hate so much … Take a look.”

Alex was already ignoring how ridiculous everything felt. So he pulled up his t-shirt and stared at the spot where the birthmark was supposed to be. 

Nothing was there, but smooth skin. He rubbed against it, trying to tell himself that it had to be some makeup trick, but the skin was turning red, without giving way to what he knew was supposed to be there.

“Alex, while I do have an eternity to stare at you trying to convince yourself that what it’s happening right now is not real, I would appreciate if you finally listened.”

He stood up.

“This is crazy!” he exclaimed, throwing his arms out, and looking at the ceiling as if it could be enough to stare up there and find the truth about whatever was going on. “Do you really expect me to believe that …” the words chocked him, struggling to get out, wave after nauseating wave.

“Alex,” the woman said more sternly now. “It is just by mere chance that you survived the accident. The body swap is part of your, well, I won’t call it punishment, because that’s not it, but of your re-education.”

“Re-education?!” he yelled now.

“Yes. You’ve gone enough thinking that there won’t be consequences for your actions. We usually don’t have a say on the matter, but, seeing how a window of opportunity presented itself, let’s get started.”

Alex could feel his heart growing smaller with each of the woman’s stern words.

“So, name,” the woman said.

“I told you, I’m Alex Ruskin, I’m …”

“Alex, we don’t have all day. The right answer, now.”

“Alex … Miller,” he said with a sigh.

“What’s the most important thing in the world for you?”

“Psh, that’s easy. Money,” Alex tasted every syllable and watched the woman in satisfaction as he leaned back into the chair. 

“Hmm,” the woman murmured. “And who’s the most important person in the world for you?”

The theory of being trapped in some seriously demented reality show was starting to seem more realistic, once more.

“The truth, Alex. This is not a reality show, we’ve gone over this already … The truth,” the woman said.

“Okay,” he threw his arms out, in an annoyed gesture. “It’s me. Yeah, me. Number one. The best. The one and only. Clear enough for you?”

“Good. A bit of honesty never hurt anyone,” the woman replied.

He crossed both his arms and legs, hoping his miffed attitude was going to wear down the maternal looking witch in front of him. 

The next question, however, took him by surprise.

“And how is that making you feel?” the woman leaned against her desk so that she could stare at him with her small beady eyes. 

“Fantastic,” he said with aplomb. 

“Are you sure?” the woman smiled.

“110%,” he replied right away.

“All right,” the woman said. “Let’s see how a world will be where you would have just what you need. Money and yourself. Would that be the perfect world for you?”

“Wait, wait, wait,” he began gesticulating frantically. “I also want, ah, yeah, a lot of followers on social media.”

“Okay. How many?”

“Hmm,” he began to ponder.

What could be a good number? 

“One hundred million followers,” he said, after a short moment of deliberation.

“Just one hundred million?” the woman stared at him, cocking her head to one side like she could not believe him.

“Wait, you’re right. Better make it … three hundred million followers.”

“Why not one billion?” the woman continued.

“Can you do that?” he whispered.

He was getting dizzy with the possibilities. 

“How about everyone in the world?” his host asked him, staring at him with an unreadable expression in her eyes.

She was testing him. She thought he was bluffing. Well, he had no problems showing off his true colors. Unless it was a reality show, after all, and his career and life were going to go bust after something like this. But the temptation was too strong. The woman could make papers levitate. Maybe she could show him that perfect world, after all.

“Yes, everyone in the world would do,” he shrugged and stared at his fingernails, pretending to be bored already. 

“All right. Anything else?” she demanded to know. 

“Well, how much money are we talking about?”

“All of it.”

“What the hell do you mean by that?” he questioned.

“All the money in the world.”

“Okay, that sounds fine,” he straightened up in his chair. 

“So, anything else?” she insisted.

“Hmm … nothing,” he said.

He could smell a trap, but he had no idea what that could mean. Also, he really wanted to see what she was capable of. Was she going to show him some movie or …

The room tilted and Alex found himself on a busy street. That was weird all right. Where was the white room? What about the woman? 

Well, at least he was out. With confidence, he began walking. How strange, he noticed. Everyone on the street seemed absorbed by his or her phone. A woman almost tripped him. She was talking excitedly with her best friend, both walking, and staring at their shiny screens.

“Have you seen Alex’s latest pic? Oh. My. Gosh.”

“Yes, oh, yes, he is just so fantastic,” the other replied.

Alex could feel his chest swelling with pride. Great, so he now had everyone following him on social media. Fabulous, that was absolutely fabulous. 

There was, however, something bothering him. His pants seemed a bit too tight. He stuck one hand in a pocket and pulled a thick stack of bills. Ah, the money thing. He began counting, while people passed by him, chatting about his latest posts on social media. Someone bumped into him, and he lost count.

Damn, he was getting a bit annoyed. And his pants didn’t seem to be any more comfortable. His pockets, all his pockets seemed full. He struggled to turn them inside out, but the stacks of bills already in his hands began falling. Soon, he was on the sidewalk, trying hard to gather all the bills, but they just seemed to overflow. Around him, people were stepping on his money, while continuing to drone about him. 

Yet, no one seemed to notice him.

“Hey,” he tried to stop a man in a pinstripe suit, but the guy just circled around him, his eyes on his phone. “Hey!” he yelled louder, but the crowds around him were just getting louder than him.

And all this time, money was flowing freely out of his pockets. The situation was getting really weird.

“Get me out of here!” he finally begged, as the people were pushing by him, making him stumble and fall.

Just as he thought he was going to get crashed, and he was busy covering his head with his arms, the noise around him died down.

And he was back in the chair, in the white room.

“So, how was it?” the woman asked him, with a sly smile on her lips. “Was it good being so popular on social media? How about the money?”

“You tried to play me,” Alex pointed an accusing finger at the woman. “Don’t you think I watched that movie? Bedazzled? You just take everything I say too literally, and of course, it all ends up a bunch of crap!”

“All right,” the woman smiled. “How about you being a little more specific?”

Alex stared at his host, who looked nothing like Liz Hurley. Maybe if the woman across from him had Liz’s cheekbones or her perfect British accent, he could forgive her. But no, he wasn’t the forgiving type.

“All right. The money could be stored on a card. A single card,” he insisted, raising his index finger. “I don’t need to go walking about with cash. And the people. They should notice me,” he pointed at himself. “I’m the star they follow on social media!”

“All right,” the woman shrugged. “So ready for another round?”

“I sure am.”

This time he was prepared for the tilt, but he could not say he had seen precisely when everything around him changed. He was again on the same busy street.

“Alex! Oh my god!” a group of teenagers screamed, almost making him deaf in one ear. “Selfie time!” 

The group soon surrounded him, all snapping out their phones and taking pictures of him. Well, that was more likely. He could feel his self-esteem soaring once more. Not one step he took that another group snatched him.

Okay, he got it. He knew where this was going.

“Okay, get me out of here!” he yelled, looking up.

This time, the woman was laughing for real.

“I don’t think there’s any point in telling you what I want,” Alex crossed his arms over his chest. “You will just find a way to make it seem creepy and weird. What would be next? People starving around me because they spend too much on social media?”

“Alex, you don’t care about anyone else but yourself. Right?”

“Right,” he said aggressively. 

“So, if anyone starved to death, what would that mean to you?”

“First of all, I’m not signing up for some zombie apocalypse thing,” Alex said, feeling his entire body trembling with frustration. “Second of all, I still need people to take out the trash, and tend to me in restaurants, and what not. And, third of all …” he stopped and pursed his lips.

“Yes?” the woman encouraged him.

“Well, I’m not that insensitive,” he glared. “I don’t want people to die, starve to death, or whatever. I just … don’t want them to have much to do with me.”

“So you give up on your ideal world? I think it’s a good exercise until your overseer is back. He will be able to solve the situation and have you return to where you belong. Unless, of course, something else happens in the meantime,” the host mumbled to herself. 

“I have no control. You’re just making things happen,” Alex complained. 

“Then I’ll put you in control. Here,” she took out from a drawer a small gamepad like device.

With a bit of hesitation, he picked the thing from the woman’s hand.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“It’s a sort of interface someone like you, from the 21st century would be familiar with. You have all the controls, and you can watch the simulations on the screen. If you find the settings you like, just let me know,” the woman said with a small, all-knowing smile that was already getting on his nerves.

“What happens if I find the perfect settings, as you say?” he looked at her, hoping that his icy stare was going to wipe that smile off her face.

It didn’t look like it was working.

“Well, if that happens, we’re ready to create that little world for you, and have you live there forever,” she beamed at him, as she had just found the solution to all the problems in the universe.

“Oh, really?” he grinned. “Then I should get to work. You obviously have no idea what I want.”

“Of course, nobody is capable of that,” the woman said matter-of-factly, without being impressed at all with his determination. 

“Okay, may I have a little privacy?” he demanded while clutching the device in his hands.

“If you want that, you should just step into the hallway.”

“Yes, of course, it is your office,” Alex said hurriedly.

“Don’t you want to ask me who inhabits your body while you’re here?” she suddenly asked.

“Does it matter? I assume the said body is in pretty bad shape if what you tell me about me being close to death is true.”

“Not bad at all, actually,” the woman smiled at him again. “And, right now, your body is waking up with its new owner inside.”

Alex frowned. 

“All right,” he said slowly. “Who is inside my body?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” the woman said with satisfaction. “Well, don’t flip out, Alex, please,” she added, while looking straight at him, but again with a sly glint in her eyes.

“Oh, no, you put some homeless dude or something icky like that inside my body?” he grimaced in disgust. 

“Someone,” the woman corrected him, raising one finger.

“Okay, someone. Jeesh, you’re so much into semantics around here. So, who is it? Are you going to make me beg?”

“No,” the woman giggled. “Well, it’s someone you know.”

Alex rolled his eyes.

“Don’t you have work to do around here? Do you really have to play 21 questions with me?”

“Hmm,” the woman’s eyes narrowed, and it looked like she was somehow having fun at his expense.

“Who is it, lady?” Alex decided to be more straightforward with his very quirky host.

“It’s Carter Malis,” the woman said quickly.

Alex could feel his mouth going slack.

“Who?” he hissed. “That … that homophobe? I can’t believe it! Who around here thinks this is funny? That … ugh, I have no words to describe that man! That horrible man!”

“Carter Malis is not a homophobe, Alex,” the woman said as if she was trying to appease him. “He’s Aron’s best friend.”

“Bullshit!” he almost yelled. “That horrible person came to my wedding,” Alex pointed at himself with the gamepad in his hand, “and said that …”

Somehow the words were not coming to him. 

“What he said is not important, Alex. As always in life, the why is much more important,” the woman said, leaning back into her chair. 

“The why,” he said, more and more irritated, “is clear as day. That man hates my guts because …”

He bit his lips. He had an idea why. But he was not going to say it. The woman shook her head.

“It’s not something easy to admit, and that’s understandable, Alex,” she said in that sweet, maternal voice he hated so much. “But you should be thankful. Thanks to a technicality, both you and Carter survived the accident. And now, until the snafu, as I said, is solved, we have to keep you here, with us.”

“While he’s in my body? Doing what?”

“Being you,” the woman said with a small shrug.

“Being me? That man knows nothing about being me!”

“What’s so complicated about you, Alex?” the woman questioned.

“Are you kidding me? That man has no idea about being in the fashion business. I suspect him of cutting his own hair,” Alex said through his teeth.

“And that’s all there is about you? Your fashion career?” the woman asked.

“That’s the most important. Wait, what are you trying to … Oh, this is priceless,” he glared. “Is he going to play ‘me’ in every aspect of my life? Including being Aron’s husband?”

And Simon’s lover.

“Exactly,” the woman said with a satisfied grin.

“This is so bad,” Alex complained. “But I’m not worried. He will drive Aron nuts. I hope you guys don’t expect him to put out. As I said, he’s a homophobe. Plus, the moment he spills the beans who he is …”

He stopped and bit his lips. Well, now that was a dilemma. What was going to happen if the guy was going to run his mouth about having been swapped by magic with someone else?

“He won’t be able to say anything. The one in charge of him is already there, watching over him. For the foreseeable future, Carter Malis will be you, Alex. He will be Aron’s husband.”

“All right. As I said,” Alex shrugged to hide his discomfort. “He won’t be able to be me. If this is some sort of test for him, he will fail.”

“Oh, it is a test for him, but we put our hopes in him. Carter Malis has a chance to right some wrongs in his life.”

“Oh, come on,” Alex grimaced. “Is this whole thing because of him?”

The woman nodded.

“Yes. And you should be grateful. The alternative to the body swap could have been something worse.”

“Worse? For whom?” he exclaimed.

“Exactly,” the woman said brightly. “That’s a great question, Alex. Now, please, I do have a lot of work to do.”

He mumbled an excuse as he stood up and went out into the hallway. As he started the device in his hands, he could not stop thinking about what the hell the fact that Carter Malis was in his body actually meant.

TBC