Freshly showered and with a towel wrapped around my waist, I enter my walk-in closet. My clothes symbolize the dichotomy of the man I was and the man that I am now. On one side are my Armani suits lining the wall, warring to take over the space. On the other side, losing the battle, are the “real me” clothes. I touch the fabric of my faded, worn blue jeans. My favorite t-shirts hang next to them, all sorted by colors. Taking one out, I hold it up to me in the full-length mirror. My tattoo-sleeved arms are quite the contrast to the dulled white shirt.

The tattoos came from one of my highs in life, the “pre-medicated me.” Sometimes I miss him. He could let loose and have a lot of fun. I place the t-shirt back in its place, instead grabbing a freshly-pressed, light blue, collared button-down to go under my grey suit. I pull out a deep grey silk tie and my Barker Black Ostrich toe shoes. Perfection for the first day at the office.

I brush my teeth and quickly shave the shadow that formed on my face overnight. Dropping the towel from my 6’4” frame, I pull on my boxers. When I stand up, a momentary panic breaks loose in my mind. My chest tightens and my forehead perspires as I stare anxiously at the clothes I laid out. This is my own company. I can be myself now, I don’t have to pretend to be someone I’m not. Gathering the clothes lying on the bed, I neatly return them all back in their proper place. Hmm... “Proper,” the word plays hard in my head. For the first time, in a long time, I feel the old me dueling to come out. A wide smile covers my clean-shaven face.

The elevator doors open to our new fifth floor office. It’s one open room decked out with all the latest technology. A large transparent computer screen takes up an entire wall. This is the motherboard of our operation. We will be able to zoom in on any disaster around the world, access only granted by our government. If I wanted to, I could walk a surgeon through a procedure in the field while sitting behind a desk. But I’m a junkie. My drug of choice is the adrenaline rush that comes from being wrist-deep in a surgery. There is nothing comparable to saving the life of another human being with your own hands. I’m not so arrogant to take all the credit - I know there is a higher power in control, but he gave me a gift and I plan on doing the best I can with it.

It’s early and no one is due in for another hour. I’m digging through the cabinets looking for the coffee I know Aedon stocked for us. We are all addicted to the brew. As I’m pouring the water into the coffee maker, I hear the elevator doors open. Ander comes be-bopping through the doors with his earbuds firmly in his ears. He slings his backpack down and jumps when he sees me standing near the back wall of the office.

He tugs at the earbuds and they fall around his neck. “I’m sorry, am I in the wrong place?” He looks around the office with his mouth hanging open. The elevator doors close behind him as he turns toward them.

I chuckle. “No, this is the right place.” I point to the freshly-made MTA Crisis Division logo plastered to the far wall.

The elevator door opens again. Aedon walks out without looking up from her phone and runs into Ander, who is still staring at me in disbelief.

“I’m so sorry, Ander. Why are you standing in front of the door?” Her leather bag slides down her arm. Ander points in my direction, his mouth still catching flies.

Aedon looks up and then does a double take when she realizes it’s me. She reaches up and lifts Anders chin closing his gaping mouth. Her long, sexy legs peer out from under her knee-length black skirt. My gaze travels to the white sleeveless blouse she is wearing, noticing that it is buttoned all the way up. Her black patent heels start clicking in my direction.

“Did we miss the memo about our attire?” she asks, two feet from me.

“What, you don’t like it?” I turn in place.

She laughs. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you in that Rolling Stones t-shirt. And I don’t think I’ve seen those hole-ridden jeans since our college days.”

I take out three coffee mugs and fill them with black coffee, handing one to Aedon. “We have no clients that come to this office. I’m tired of wearing the stuffy business clothes, so you better get used to it.”

She closes the gap between us. I can feel her breath on my face. “Did you take your medication?” she asks.

“Yes, doll. I’m still fully medicated.” I chuckle, walking past her to hand Ander a mug of coffee.

“Wow, you look…so different.”

“Feel free to lose your stuffy suit too,” I tell him as he plops down at his desk.

The elevators open again. Wren’s 6’2” frame is adorned with a pair of dark blue jeans and a white pull-over sporting our logo on the pocket. He stands next to me and smiles.

“There is my old friend. It’s about time you let him come out and play.” He pats my shoulder and heads straight over to Aedon, who is holding out a mug for him.

“Now, if you are all done gawking at me, maybe we could get to work.” I take the remote off Ander’s desk, aiming it at the wall. A map of New York City comes alive on the screen. I hand the remote to Ander.

“This, my friend, is yours to control. You need to become intimate with her. Find out what makes her tick and then make her your bitch.” I slap my hand on his desk.

“You are in an awfully good mood today,” Aedon laughs. “But you need to not scare Ander off on his first day on the job.”

“It’s okay, Aedon. I liked his analogy, except I’m calling that remote he and not she. And he and I are going to do all kinds of naughty things right here on this desk.” Ander rubs both his hands all over the dark desktop.

All three of us burst out laughing. “Okay, I deserved that.” I walk over and place my hands on his shoulders. “Seriously, I want you to pull up all the major cities and get familiar with them. You need to be able to tell us the quickest way to get places without hesitation. I need to know about subways, trains, bus routes, which mode of transportation will work best in a crisis, and so on. You get the picture?”

“I do.” His fingers start clicking on the keyboard and flashes of different cities pop up.

“The three of us need to get in touch with the other crisis teams we have set up to make sure they are all up-to-date on emergency plans and transportation.”

“Hey, look at this,” Ander says, pointing at the screen. “This is the damage left from the tsunami that hit Australia’s northwest coast a week ago. It says 800 people died.” He turns around in his chair. “Too bad you weren’t up and operational a week ago.”

“It is too bad; we could have gotten there a little sooner than the current rescue teams,” I tell him.

“These are the kinds of things you need to be ahead of. Tsunamis can be somewhat predicted based on where a quake originated. Earthquakes sometimes give us warnings, patterns on what is to come. Terrorist attacks are completely unpredictable. With those types of crises, it’s usually a recovery mission unless the terrorists are holding hostages.” I click a key on one of the computers sitting on his desk. “This monitor is linked with the National Earthquake Information Center, NEIC. We will know at a moment’s notice of any seismic irregularities anywhere in the world. You will be able to see them set off in real time on this screen. With another stroke of the key, we are tied in with the National Oceanic Atmospheric Agency, NOAA. We will be alerted to hurricanes, tornados, and other atmospheric anomalies.”

I leave him alone to get familiar with the system. Wren is already on the phone and typing away on his computer, but every now and then I see him checking out Aedon. She has slipped her shoes off and has a pencil between her fingers. She’s rocking it back and forth on the desk, making a clicking sound. Her lip is trapped between her teeth. She stops when she sees me standing in front of her desk.

“I got word last night one of my team members withdrew from their commitment. He was afraid between his busy practice and his first child due soon that it would take too much time away from both.”

“That’s completely understandable.”

“I made a backup list,” she pushes it toward me. “What do you think about him?” She places the pencil tip by a name.

“I think you are more than capable of choosing someone on that list without my help. I completely trust your judgement.” I place the paper back in front of her and walk over to my desk. My chair let’s out a creak of protest as I lean back and lock my hands behind my head, elbows resting outward. I take it all in. Ander is studying the computer screen, Wren is busy on the phone, and Aedon finally lays down her pencil and picks up her phone. I turn my chair in the direction of the company logo. I’ve done a lot of great things in my life, but this is the one I’m the proudest of. This is the one I was meant to do.

The morning goes by quickly. I order lunch for all of us, since none of us really wanted to go out on our first day. By the end of the day, I’m amazed at the amount of work we all accomplished. Ander is a whiz at the computer and already has it mastered. I’m glad Aedon hired him to be part of our team.

Aedon received a call from the hospital and had to leave to help with a difficult surgery. The three of us wait for the elevator to arrive. “Anyone up for a drink?” I ask them.

“I’ve got to get home and take care of my cat, then I’m going to do a little research on earthquakes. I want to be completely up to par with information before I come back tomorrow.”

I glance at Wren. “How about you?”

“Sure, I’m not on call tonight.”

“I thought you were going to stop taking calls when the Crisis Division started up?”

“I wasn’t willing to give it up completely. They developed a backup for when I’m out for a crisis.”

We ride the elevator down and Ander heads out for his bike. Wren and I walk into the downstairs bar. It’s a narrow area with high ceilings and dim lights. We take a seat at the bar and order our drinks.

“You’re a junkie like me. You will never give up surgery.”

“In that, you are right. We are a lot alike.” He turns on his barstool to face me. “So, what’s really up with the clothes, man?”

I swirl the ice in my glass before I take a sip. “I just didn’t feel like wearing a stuffy suit.”

“I don’t have a problem with that as long as you are really okay,” he says, placing his hand on my shoulder.

“I need a change. Maybe my stuffiness has been what’s kept me from finding the right woman.”

“You have women fall over you all the time.” He smirks and turns back toward the bar.

“Those women see money and prestige, nothing more. I need someone who can put up with my bullshit.” I half laugh.

“Man, there isn’t a woman alive who could handle you.” Wren snorts, throwing back his whiskey.

“You’re probably right. Don’t you ever think about settling down?” I toss my boubon back and indicate to the bartender to refill our glasses.

“I do, but I’m surprised to hear you say that.” His deep blue eyes are probing me.

“I’m not getting any younger. Besides, it would be nice to have a wife and family to come home to at night.”

“Yeah, it would. But I’m not sure it’s in the cards for guys like us. My biggest fear is that it would never be enough for the right woman.” Wren adds quietly.

“What do you mean?” I turn toward him.

“I need a woman that could be part of the adrenaline rush with me; a woman that needs it as much as I do.”

“A woman like Aedon,” I say and swallow hard. That is exactly who he is describing.

“Aedon is my best friend, nothing more.” His eyes cut to the left, like he’s hiding something behind them.

A tinge of hurt nestles in his brows as he sets his drink down a little too hard on the bar top, causing the bartender to look in our direction.

“A woman like Aedon is too good for the likes of either of us,” I tell him, standing up. “Do you need a ride home?”

“No, man. I like to walk. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He throws cash on the counter and I follow suit.