The Promotion
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About this ebook
It’s 1965 in New York City as Arthur Chadwik climbs the corporate ladder, obsessed with landing the promotion of his life. One day, after an encounter with a vagabond gypsy, his dream finally seems to come true, but only by way of a curse. Soon after, Arthur confidently rules his company until the unexpected domino effect of her black magic begins to crumble before him. He is so shaken to see those around him placed in jeopardy as a result of his desires, that he must find a way to undo the curse before all of their lives are changed forever.
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The Promotion - Christopher K. Michael
The Promotion
Christopher K. Michael
Contents
Copyright
Acknowledgments
1. New York City – 1965
Eight Days Earlier
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
The Next day
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Two Weeks Later
About the Author
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Copyright © 2017 Christopher K. Michael
Twitter: @ckmichaelauthor
Facebook: ckmichaelauthor
www.chrismichaelbooks.com
Acknowledgments
For Liz and the people who love the classics
When all of your wishes are granted,
many of your dreams will be destroyed.
-Marilyn Manson
1
New York City – 1965
The .38 special revolver nestled in Billy Walters’ pocket as he approached the busy conference room. He kicked the door open, startling all the men in attendance for the company’s annual board meeting.
Billy? What happened to you? Are you alright?
asked Arthur Chadwik, new CEO and President of Walters Incorporated.
Billy said nothing. He touched the third degree burns on his face and neck, and gripped the wooden handle inside his blazer pocket. He paced, then stopped before the portrait of his late father, which hung on the wall. He drew his weapon and waved it like a flag, declaring war. The men jumped from their chairs, crawling for cover. Billy turned the gun on Arthur, who remained at the head of the table with outstretched arms. He pointed the gun at the ceiling, lowered it, then tucked it under his own chin. You ruined me and my father's life, Arthur Chadwik. Now you have to live with this.
He pulled the hammer back, as Arthur bolted toward him. Billy closed his eyes as the men in the conference room watched in abject terror.
He pulled the trigger.
Blood spattered the wall and the portrait of Billy’s father. Arthur cried out, stumbling away from Billy’s body, filled with regret from the recent decisions he’d made, and the results that had finally occurred.
Eight Days Earlier
The subway stopped and commuters poured out of the doors like smoke from a chimney. Arthur was first in line to walk through its cold, steel doors and step on to the concrete landing. He jogged up the steps to the sidewalk on East Seventy-Seventh Street.
The city had been the place to be for quite some time; it was ideal for both work and play. But, for thirty-four-year-old Arthur Chadwik, work trumped all. Today was much like any other day, but somehow different. Today, Arthur was up for a promotion. It would be the biggest one of his life, and nothing was going to stop him. I promise that you made the right decision, Mr. Walters. Thank you again,
he practiced to himself.
As he made his way, he saw a small, peculiar elderly woman lying on the concrete sidewalk. Her long hair was gray, and wiry, like thin strands of rusted metal. Her skin was that of an old baseball glove. She bared her remaining yellow and brown teeth. Help me!
she screamed with the piercing rip of a power saw, One day, you'll all see!
Commuters stepped over the old gypsy woman, forgetting her existence mere seconds later. Arthur was no different from any other New Yorker he shared the sidewalk with. He had a place to be, and he needed to be there now. He peered down at her, taking a large step over her body. He didn’t want her wet ragged clothing to touch his pressed suit.
You'll be sorry,
she screeched, as he hurriedly walked past.
I'm sure someone else will help you, ma'am.
Ignoring the helpless woman was against everything that his parents had taught him, but today he could not be late to work. He had dedicated his entire adult life to his career, and today's promotion was going to make it all worth the effort.
The gypsy woman sat up on the damp concrete sidewalk, pressing her back against the brick wall behind her. She struggled to catch her breath, and once retained, her thin cracked lips quivered as she muttered "Quanif, tasim, oupilt. Quanif, tasim, oupilt."
The cool breeze that had been gentle just moments ago, rushed into a hot gust. Loose pages of newspaper and roadside debris combined with the dense, dirty fog that surrounded her. She stood and screamed, arms extended, as it whistled through her fingers and hair. The smog forced pedestrians to cover their mouths in disgust as they approached. The woman spun in circles, clawing at everything that entered her darkness. Some dashed to the other side of the street, while others barely missed her claws by an inch.
Arthur peered back at the strange happening, not sure what to make of the commotion and mysterious fog. He carried on despite the oddity and grasped the handle of his company's door.
He took one last deep breath before entering. His leather shoes sounded across the large, polished tile as he detoured to the mail room. Hello, Clark,
he said.
Arthur, my man, how are ya?
Clark responded, leaning against the doorjamb, So, today's the big day.
It sure is,
he said, adjusting his tie. It's finally my time.
Arthur leaned in close to Clark. "Just so you know, Wayne and Jan, -