Page 6 of Every Breath

“You’ll be stuck in this body until it gives out.”

“Didn’t you say this guy was on the verge of a massive heart attack?”

“He was.” Paul winked.

“Ah. Some strings were pulled.”

“You could say that. Look, I have to get out of here before your little friend wakes up and wonders who the heck you’re talking to. See you later… Mason.”

“Wait! How do I go about redeeming this guy? What exactly has he done?”

“I’d tell you, my friend, but I have a feeling you’ll soon find out. Remember, from now on you’re Mason Collins. Damon Evans no longer exists. You’ve been given just enough of his memories to function as Mason, but you’ll have to learn more on your own. Call me in case of an emergency. Good luck.” Paul disappeared.

“Hey, wait!” Damon--Mason--called back. Damn. He obviously had his work cut out for him. First, he had to think about winning his family back from that maniac.

“Mason, who are you talking to? I want to play.”

Mason turned around: the blonde was sitting up in bed. “Uh, I wasn’t talking to anyone.”

Paul mentioned a divorce, so who the heck was this? She didn’t look older than sixteen. God, please tell me that you didn’t put me in the body of a pedophile.

“Don’t you want to come back to bed? It sure is awful cold between the sheets without you.” She pouted and dropped the bed sheet to her waist, revealing the largest man-made breasts he’d ever seen.

His eyes nearly bulged out of his head. How in the world did she manage to walk upright with those gigantic jugs? His thoughts drifted to Brandi’s small but well-formed breasts, and he hardened, thinking about her little brown nipples in his mouth. Brandi had this woman beat hands down.

The blonde giggled, obviously thinking the erection he now sported was for her. “I see you want to play, too. Now come back to bed, lover.” She crooked a finger at him.

This was the last thing he needed. “Well, I…I think I’m pretty worn out from last night, sweetie. How about hopping into the shower and I’ll make us some breakfast.”

The blonde’s eyes widened in surprise before she burst into tears.

What was wrong with breakfast? He walked over to the bed and sat next to her, uncomfortable to be around a strange naked woman whose name he didn’t know and who might not be legal. Mason took her hand in his.

“Why are you crying?”

“I didn’t please you and now you’re going to fire me! I cheated on my boyfriend for nothing.” She sobbed uncontrollably.

What in the world? Mason Collins had threatened this woman’s job if she didn’t sleep with him? What a slimy bastard. How was he going to wiggle his way out of this?

“Umm, I didn’t mean to give you that impression. Don’t worry. Your job is safe.”

“Really?”

‘Yes, really. Now how about that shower? I’ll fix you something to eat.” He left the room as fast as he could. While walking down the stairs, he took in his surroundings. The house was huge. Mason Collins was certainly loaded. Wait, he was now Mason Collins. This would be a hard adjustment to make.

He remembered the tiny apartment he and Brandi started out in. It could have fit five times over in this living room alone. The house looked like something straight out of “Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous.” Brandi and the kids would love it. It needed a homier look, but that could easily be rectified.

Thoughts of his family brought him crashing back down to reality. How was he going to woo his wife in this body? He knew he would have his work cut out for him.

When he found the kitchen he saw a note next to the answering machine, which was blinking. Mason picked the note.

I quit! Clean your own damn house. You are a heartless bastard and I hope you burn in hell. And I’m not Mexican! I’m from Peru. Luisa

This was certainly another interesting start to his new life. It seemed he pissed off the housekeeper. Mason was almost scared to listen to the messages on the answering machine, but he knew he’d have to eventually.

The first message was from yet another very irate woman. “You son of a bitch! You have screwed with us for the last time! Ben was up all night waiting for you to show up. You forgot you promised to spend the weekend with him, didn’t you? I bet you were with some bimbo, you pathetic excuse for a father!

“You only want him around to shoot your crummy commercials, but enough is enough. I suppose you won’t be bothered to show up to Parents’ Night next week at his new school, either. If you can’t keep your commitments to your own son then stay the hell out of his life.” Click.

---