Enchanted, Inc

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Enchanted, Inc Page 21

by Shanna Swendson


  "Hey, man, I don't make judgments. I just sell what the people want."

  "And how badly do the people want it?"

  "We've sold a few. Not so much lately. Word's out it doesn't work so well."

  "Does that mean you knowingly sell shoddy merchandise?"

  Marco shrugged. "Caveat emptor."

  "Word gets out you're selling bad stuff, and soon no one is buying any stuff from you."

  "I'm just the distributor."

  "We could find another distributor in this area. You aren't making a lot of sales for us."

  "And that means I'm not selling enough to miss you if you go. You're gonna have to shake things up to make my customers happy. This whole

  make-the-world-a-better-place routine is stale."

  "I can think of one very quick, very easy way to improve the world," Selwyn said, with a layer of iron under his casual tone.

  Marco snorted. "Yeah, like the good guys would do that."

  "We have before. You've been around long enough to remember that. When it all comes down, you'll want to be on the right side." I wasn't sure what he meant, but Marco seemed to. He paled, but kept his defiant stance.

  Selwyn gestured to me, and we left the store. "Fortunately, he's in the minority," he said as we climbed back on the flying carpet. "We'll need to keep an eye on shops like that. It looks like that's the primary distribution point."

  "But it's good to hear sales aren't going so well."

  "Just as long as he doesn't fix the bugs. If he gets it to work, we're in trouble."

  fourteen

  I got to work the next morning—after a rare subway ride without Owen at my side—to find an e-mail notifying me of a meeting in Merlin's office. I hurried upstairs. Owen was already there, looking shattered and uncharacteristically unkempt, his clothes wrinkled, his hair mussed, and a dark shadow on his jaw. I thought I recognized his tie from the day before. In a strange, almost disturbing way, that look was very appealing on him. Gemma needed to find me a prospect soon to jolt me out of this crazy crush.

  "So, that's why you weren't on the subway," I remarked, trying not to pant or drool as I took a seat at Merlin's conference table.

  He rubbed his eyes. "Yeah, I was here all night, working on a counterspell."

  Mr. Hartwell and Gregor then joined us, along with a gnome I didn't recognize. He was introduced to me as Dortmund, head of Corporate Accounting.

  Merlin had just taken his seat at the table when a plump woman bustled in. "Sorry I'm late," she said. "Guess I should have seen that delay coming, huh?" She turned to me and said, "Katie, I don't believe we've met. I'm Minerva Felps, head of P and L."

  She wasn't what I expected of a seer. I was thinking more of a mysterious Gypsy woman like the fortune-teller at the county fair, or maybe someone ethereal and vague. But she looked more like a busybody aunt who made it a point to know everyone's business. Then again, I suppose that was basically her job.

  Merlin called the meeting to order. He seemed to fit in this place and time better than the last time I'd seen him. He was losing a little of his lost quality. "Given that it's been a month since we started more specifically addressing the possible threat from our new competition, I felt it was an opportune time to regroup and see where we stand. Mr. Hartwell?"

  "Sales are doing well, better than before we started Miss Chandler's marketing campaign. I don't know how it's affecting our competition's sales, but our bottom line is only being affected in a good way. We've seen a few of the competing products in stores where we have accounts, but none in any of our key accounts.

  They're mostly in out-of-the-way places that most proper magic folk wouldn't frequent."

  "We're getting positive feedback from the store owners," I added. "Whether or not it directly addresses the threat, it might be good to keep the marketing campaign going.

  It certainly seems to have helped keep those spells out of the mainstream."

  Owen massaged his temples with his thumbs. He looked so tired he didn't even blush before speaking. "What helps us there is that it isn't a very good spell. It's a big energy drain, and it doesn't work as well as you'd expect from a commercially produced spell. He was in a rush to get something into the market. But I know him well enough to know he won't stop there. He'll get it worked out, and then we'll have problems."

  "How are you doing on the counterspell?" Merlin asked.

  "I've got a counterspell for this one, as of about five this morning. I'll just have to get it to Practical Magic for distribution. But it's only good until he gets the problems corrected. Then I'll have to start all over again." He didn't sound like he looked forward to that.

  "Is there any insight from Prophets and Lost?"

  Minerva shook her head. "Sorry, but this one's a big blur. There aren't any signs at all, let alone clear ones. Anything could happen. Now, we're not picking up on any major disasters, and civilization does seem to be more or less intact for the foreseeable future, so I doubt we've got a major apocalypse on our hands that will change life as we know it. But I can't tell if the good guys or the bad guys are going to win this one." She shrugged. "That makes us about as useless as a screen door on a submarine, but there you go."

  Merlin laced his fingers together on top of the table. "There we have it. We seem to have stood our ground well enough to avert an immediate crisis, but the danger certainly hasn't passed. Mr. Palmer, could you anticipate what might be done to correct the spell?"

  "I could try to correct it myself. I doubt he'd take a vastly different approach than I would. We were trained by the same people, after all. I'm just not sure I'm comfortable doing so. It gets into an area of magic I'd rather not delve into very deeply." If I wasn't mistaken, there was fear in his eyes, but he quickly cast his gaze down to the table, so I couldn't see for sure.

  Merlin's eyes grew gentle. "Perhaps you can set this task for your staff, then supervise them closely."

  Owen nodded without saying anything or even looking up. I remembered Rod mentioning that they were sometimes concerned about what Owen was capable of. It looked like Owen was concerned as well. Did that mean he was afraid he'd become evil if he played with darker magic? I couldn't imagine him being capable of harming anyone, but there was a lot I didn't know about magic or about Owen. I reminded myself that I'd known him for more than a month now, and all I knew about him as a person was that he liked baseball.

  "What can Sales do to anticipate a future crisis?" Merlin asked.

  Mr. Hartwell looked grim. "We're continuing to put pressure on store owners, make them aware of the quality differences, but we can't keep singing that tune if he fixes the spell. Meanwhile, there's the risk they'll call our bluff if we threaten to pull out of their stores. As long as we have spells in those stores, we have an excuse to investigate them. Once we pull out, we won't be able to track what he's selling. At least now we know where to go to get our hands on anything the moment it hits the market."

  Merlin turned to Dortmund, the accounting gnome. "This may require additional budget. How are we set for funding?"

  "We've got plenty of gold reserves. Our stocks hadn't been doing so well, but thanks to a hot tip from Minerva's folks, we're on an upswing. Bottom line is, we've got the money to do what we need to do. If we don't spend it now, it may not matter much in the future. Like Hartwell said, sales are good. We're not hurting."

  "Very well, then. It looks as though we're as prepared as we're likely to be."

  I noticed then that he hadn't yet called on Gregor. I'd thought he must be there because of some verification project, like maybe to report on how things were going with using verifiers to sniff out intruders. But Merlin hadn't asked him anything, and Gregor hadn't volunteered anything. Now I wondered why he was even at this meeting. I certainly hadn't missed seeing his shiny red face—or his green, scaly one, either.

  Merlin glanced around the table, then said, "There's one more item for today's agenda. As you all know, I've yet to select an assistant. I wanted th
e chance to get to know as many of the employees as possible before making my choice. With the crisis at hand, I feel it is crucial for me to have someone working with me whom I can trust utterly. And for that reason, I've selected Miss Chandler to be my executive assistant."

  I had to give my head a little shake to clear it, just to make sure I'd heard what I thought I had. That was the job Kim had been counting on.

  Merlin continued speaking. "Of course, that's if Miss Chandler is interested in the job."

  "Yes, of course. Thank you." Although I hadn't even considered the possibility of getting that job, I didn't hesitate to take it. I knew from my last job that the top executives' assistants were the ones who really held the power in the company. This was definitely a vote of confidence in me.

  He smiled. "Good. I know I'm taking one of Gregor's staff away from him, but I feel that my having verification abilities at hand is extremely important at this time. And Miss Chandler will be able to continue her other corporate functions as well. She will continue to head our marketing efforts, which have been so successful."

  Gregor didn't look pleased, but he wasn't turning green or growing fangs, either. He was probably glad to get rid of me. Kim wasn't going to be happy, but that wasn't really my problem. I hadn't even seen Kim since I'd been working out of R&D.

  Owen grinned at me. "Congratulations," he said. I wondered if he'd known in advance.

  "Thanks. Wow. I don't know what to say."

  "You've earned it, Katie. I can't imagine anyone I'd rather have working at my side,"

  Merlin said with a warm, grandfatherly smile.

  A bottle of champagne appeared on the table, followed by glasses for all of us.

  Minerva opened the bottle and poured, passing the glasses around. "You know it's a good day at the office when you're drinking before noon," Gregor muttered. I couldn't believe he'd actually made a joke. At least, I hoped it was a joke.

  Merlin raised his glass. "To my new assistant. May she continue to provide me with wise counsel."

  The others raised their glasses and echoed him. I felt proud and embarrassed, all at the same time. I'd toiled for a year in my previous job without so much as a raise.

  Now I'd been promoted barely a month into this job. It was a distinct improvement.

  Rod and Owen had been right when they told me at the beginning that I'd be valued here. I doubted even they had imagined I'd do this well. I wasn't sure I believed it yet.

  The impromptu party broke up as the group returned to their offices. Owen pushed himself out of his chair with a visible effort, and Merlin stopped him with a hand on his arm before he could make it to the door. "You, go home now and rest. I don't want to see you again until Monday."

  It was a sign of just how tired Owen was that he didn't protest. "Okay, then, I'll see you Monday. Have a good weekend, Katie, and congratulations again."

  "Thanks. You, too. Get some rest."

  "I should let you get settled, and then we'll talk about your new role," Merlin said. He walked with me to the outer office, where Trix sat at the reception desk. "Trixie, can you show Katie to her new office?"

  "Right away, boss. And remember, you have a lunch meeting with Amalgamated Neuromancy."

  "Ah, yes, that. I'll get back to you this afternoon, Katie."

  Once he was gone down the escalator, Trix dropped her professional manners and squealed with delight. "Congratulations! I've known since yesterday, and I thought I'd burst from not being able to tell you. It'll be fun having you up here. Let me show you your new office."

  She fluttered to a doorway opposite Merlin's office, and I followed. This office wasn't quite as big as Merlin's, but it was enormous, vastly superior to every other place I'd worked. For one thing, it had windows. The view was mostly of lower Manhattan, with the tall buildings getting in the way of anything truly scenic, but I was glad to have windows at all, no matter what the view was.

  There was a large desk, with my computer already on it, a desk chair that might as well be a throne, a small conference table with chairs near one of the windows, and a big, overstuffed sofa along one wall. "Wow" was all I could say.

  "Your stuff's already up here. The boss had me take care of that while you were in the meeting. If you need any books or decorations, let me know and I'll take care of it. I can also get you lunch, coffee, or whatever."

  She then handed me a set of keys. "Here are your keys to the building, to this floor, and to your suite. Oh, and the bathroom's behind that door next to my desk." She gave me a mock pout. "Looks like I don't have a bathroom to myself anymore."

  "I'll try not to hog it."

  "Okay, then. I'll leave you to get settled in, and I'll let you know when Mr. Mervyn is ready to

  meet with you."

  I had remarkably little to do for someone with such a supposedly important position, but I imagined that was likely to change soon enough. For now, I enjoyed having an office with windows and a door that closed. Even without much to do, the day passed relatively quickly. Merlin had to postpone our meeting until Monday when he got stuck in some tricky negotiations, so before I knew it, it was time to go home, and I had very little to show for my day, other than my new office. "Want to have a celebratory drink?" Trix asked when I passed her desk on my way out.

  "I have to get home. I have my first Project Boyfriend date tonight, so my roommates need to make me over."

  "Good luck with that."

  "Thanks. I have a feeling I'll need it."

  If I had to meet a guy Gemma was sure was the One—with a capital letter—today was as good a day as any. The day's events had left me feeling bold and confident, which was better than the nervous way I usually approached dates.

  Gemma was already home when I got there. She must have taken off early, just for the occasion. "Are you excited about tonight?" she asked.

  I didn't have to fake excitement. I just had to fake what I was excited about. "Yeah.

  It's already been a great day."

  "Get in the shower, and then you can tell me all about it while I do your hair and makeup."

  Half an hour later I sat in front of the dresser in our bedroom with my hair up in a towel while Gemma worked on my makeup. "I'm going for a fresh-faced girl-next-door look, so you just look nice, not like you've got a lot of makeup on,"

  she said. "That should appeal to Keith."

  "He's a guy. If he notices the nuances of my makeup job, he's probably not straight."

  She acted like she didn't hear me. She was too busy taking the towel off my head and combing out the tangles. "I wish we'd had time to do highlights."

  "If he hates me on sight because I don't have highlights, I don't want him."

  Still ignoring my bad attitude, she asked, "So, what happened today that had you so excited?"

  "I got a promotion at work. A big one."

  "Congratulations! What's your new job?"

  "I'm assistant to one of the top executives." I decided against saying I'd been promoted to be the top boss's assistant because that was so big it would raise too many questions. People just didn't rise from being an ordinary administrative assistant to being the CEO's right-hand person in the space of one month.

  "That's super! See, I told you that last place you worked didn't appreciate you.

  Now, hold still."

  I closed my eyes and tried to ignore the curling iron and goodness knew what else she was doing to my hair to make it look "natural." Then I reminded myself that I was going through this so I could get to a point where I wouldn't have to go through this as often. That fantasy of wearing sweats and watching an old movie was looking better and better.

  Finally, I met with Gemma's approval. Marcia got home from work and gave her thumbs-up. "I still can't believe you're sending me out on my own like this," I complained before they shoved me out the door.

  "When you meet in a group, it takes on a just-for-fun atmosphere," Gemma explained. "One-on-one is serious. Now go and be brilliant."

&
nbsp; That was easy for her to say. Dating came naturally to her. I could talk easily to the guys at work, but put me across a table from a man in a situation where there were no legal pads or PowerPoint presentations involved and I froze. I couldn't remember the last real one-on-one date I'd been on. I was twenty-six years old, and there were high school freshmen with more dating experience than I had.

  At least they'd picked a restaurant fairly close by, near Union Square. I could make an escape without having to hail a cab. As I walked to the restaurant, I noticed a gargoyle on top of a nearby building, and I'd never seen one there before. I didn't think it was Sam, though. This one had a different profile, more of a birdlike beak instead of Sam's grotesque humanlike face.

  It was a chilly night, and a blast of hot air hit me in the face when I entered the restaurant. The place was already crowded, packed wall-to-wall with people waiting for a table. How was I supposed to find my date in this mob?

  A tall, handsome man with wavy chestnut hair walked toward me. I automatically glanced behind me to see which supermodel he was approaching, but he looked me in the eye and said, "Katie Chandler?"

  I gulped. Gemma didn't mess around when it came to looking for the One. "You're Keith?" I didn't mean it to sound like an incredulous question, but that's the way it came out. I never got set up with guys like this.

  He gave me a smile that turned my insides to jelly and reached to shake my hand.

  "Nice to meet you."

  "Uh-huh" was all I was capable of saying.

  He didn't notice my awkwardness, or if he did, he was gentleman enough to pretend not to notice. "Let's see if our table's ready," he said.

  I followed him to the host's stand, then nearly tripped over my own feet when I noticed a party of fairies and sprites come in. Damn. Why couldn't I escape from magic for one night? I hoped it wasn't anyone I knew and that they'd leave us alone.

  I wanted to make a good impression on this guy. Before I had a chance to see if I recognized anyone in the group, the host led us to our table.

  Once the host was gone, Keith grinned at me. He had warm hazel eyes that lit up when he smiled. I could definitely imagine cuddling on the couch with him. "Gemma said you were cute, but I had no idea," he said.

 

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