Enchanted, Inc

by Shanna Swendson

  I wondered if he meant cute as in attractive or cute as in "just like my little sister." I knew I was blushing, which probably increased the "like a little sister" impression.

  "Gemma didn't tell me anything about you," I admitted.

  "Then it's very brave of you to take a chance on me in the blindest of blind dates."

  Me, taking a chance on him? He had to be kidding. He was also way too good to be true. Maybe Gemma had hired him to go out with me, but that would defeat the whole point of Project Boyfriend. She knew I didn't need dates just to have someone to go out with.

  We discussed the menu for a few minutes. He didn't have any weird food quirks that he felt the need to mention. He wasn't on any wacky diet, and he didn't reject menu items because they contained some food he hated. After too many blind dates with men who reminded me of toddlers on food jags, that was refreshing. I just hoped the conversation held up after we ordered.

  The waiter came to take our orders and took away our menus, and we were left to work without a net. "So, what do you do, Katie?" he asked. It was the obligatory first question on any date. I wasn't sure why, when most people claim to hate talking about work.

  "I'm just a secretary. Nothing interesting." I'd decided the best way around that tricky job question was to make my job sound so uninteresting that no one would want to ask more questions about it. "What about you?" I hoped turning the tables quickly would help move the conversation away from any possibility of me having to skirt the magic issue.

  It didn't work. I'd found a guy who actually wanted to talk about me. "What company do you work for?" he asked.

  "It's a small company. I'm sure you wouldn't have heard of it."

  "Try me."

  "It's called MSI Inc."

  "You're right. I haven't heard of it. What do they do?"

  I wished I could remember the way Owen had described it in that first meeting, which seemed so very long ago. "Oh, it's some kind of services stuff," I said at last, playing airhead. "I just type memos and make coffee. I don't pay much attention to what we actually do."

  As boring as I tried to make it sound, he didn't look like he was about to fall asleep.

  If he wasn't truly interested, he was faking it well. For a moment I wanted to really wow him by telling him I was Merlin's assistant and I worked with wizards and magical people, but I had a feeling that would lead to the kind of commitment that involved padded cells rather than diamond rings. Ordinary Katie would have to do. I just hoped ordinary Katie would be enough.

  As if to reinforce the weirdness of my life, the party of sprites and fairies walked past us on the way to their table and I recognized Ari. She winked at me as she passed. I forced my attention back to my date while I wondered how big a coincidence it was that one of my cowork-ers was at the same restaurant I was, especially given that Ari claimed not to like dating her own kind. Why did they have to pick this restaurant, tonight of all nights, the one time when I wanted to go back to at least looking normal again for a little while?

  "Now, what do you do?" I asked again, but as interested as I really was, I couldn't stop my attention from wandering over to the table of fairies. They didn't seem to have noticed me, for which I was grateful.

  He finished explaining his job to me, then opened his mouth to ask another question, but his water glass tipped over. He hurried to right it, then attempted to blot up the water with his cloth napkin before it could spill onto the floor. "Oops, sorry about that," he said. "I can be a real klutz." Fairy laughter tinkled in the background. I immediately suspected magical interference.

  I tried to help him blot up the water and said, "They need to put a few more sugar packets under that table leg to keep it from wobbling."

  He didn't seem to think anything too odd was going on, so I tried to calm down. A disastrous first date could be a real bonding expertence if you handled it the right way. Fortunately, this place had good service, and we were quickly surrounded by waiters replacing napkins and water glasses. Soon, our salads arrived. Keith managed the delicate balancing act between eating and sustaining conversation. I wished I could do the same thing, but I was so sidetracked I couldn't help but wonder what An and

  her friends might do next. I soon found out.

  One of the sprites came over to our table. Even though I knew it was a pretty good bet that Keith couldn't see the wings, it still felt weird having a conversation with someone like that around someone who was supposedly normal. "Sir, I understand you're having a problem with your table," the sprite said. Then I realized the sprite was posing as the restaurant manager. I wished there was a way for me to know when someone was using an illusion. Seeing reality was handy, but it would help to know when I was supposed to be fooled.

  "It was nothing. Everything's okay now," Keith said.

  "Sir, I must insist. We can't allow these things to occur, so please tell me what happened." I could hear Art giggling in the background.

  "Well, okay, I think the table may have a little wobble to it." Keith proceeded to demonstrate, trying to shake the table back and forth so it would wobble, but it remained steady. Peals of fairy laughter echoed through the room. Could everyone else hear that, or did they mask the sound, as well? That did it.

  "Could you excuse me for a moment?" I asked, then grabbed my purse and headed for the restroom, hissing at Art as I passed, "I need to talk to you." She got up and followed me back to the ladies' room.

  "What are you doing with that loser, Katie?" she asked before I could get on to her about her meddling.

  "Loser? I'll have you know this is the greatest date I've had in a very, very long time.

  He's got real potential, and I like him, so it would be very nice if you and your friends would quit interfering."

  "But you don't want to be with someone like him."

  "Why, is there something you know about him that I don't? I'd know if he were really an ogre in disguise."

  She shrugged. "He's just boring. You can do better. We're doing you a favor."

  "Believe me, I am perfectly capable of getting rid of a bad date without any help. But this isn't a bad date. At least, it wasn't until y'all started playing games. What are you doing here, anyway? You're not stalking me, are you?"

  "Nah. Remember, I live around here, too. We just saw you and thought we'd have some fun." I noticed she didn't quite look me in the eye, but she also looked sheepish and ashamed of herself, so I couldn't tell if her evasion was because of embarrassment or because she was lying. "We're okay, aren't we? You know I wouldn't do anything to hurt you."

  I sighed. "Yeah. We're okay. Just lay off it for the rest of the evening, okay?"

  "Okay," she said grudgingly.

  The fake waiter was gone by the time I got back to our table, and our food had been served. "Perfect timing," I said as I slid into my seat. Now that I no longer had to worry about magical interference, I could relax and enjoy the date.

  "I hoped you weren't sneaking out on me," he quipped.

  "There's no danger of that," I said, daring to meet his eyes. I wished I was a better flirt. I really wanted him to know I was interested. This was no time to play coy and risk sending mixed signals.

  "Good, because I wasn't ready for this evening to be over so soon. I'd like to get to know you better."

  "What would you like to know?" I asked, trying for some eyelash batting and hoping it didn't look like I had something stuck in my eye.

  "It would be good to know what kinds of things you like doing. That might help me plan future dates."

  I tried not to hyperventilate. He'd actually mentioned future dates. That implied he wanted to see more of me, and that he didn't think of me as a little sister.

  Things were looking very, very good.

  There was a commotion at the front of the restaurant and I tried to ignore it. It was probably just the fairies, up to their usual hijinks. As long as it didn't affect me, I wasn't going to worry about it. But then a man in a tuxedo rushed to our table, thrust a
bouquet of red roses at me and began singing something that vaguely resembled an opera aria, sung off-key and with my name sprinkled liberally throughout.

  It was Jeff, the Naked Frog Guy. He had incredibly bad timing. I wanted to crawl under the table. And cry. Or maybe sit under the table and cry. This was so not fair.

  I chanced a glance at Keith, who was staring in shock at Jeff. After a while he turned to me. "Friend of yours?"

  I wanted to play it cool and swear I'd never seen him before in my life, but I knew that wouldn't work. "My stalker," I admitted. "I thought I'd got rid of him."

  "Apparently you didn't." He listened to Jeff's serenade for a while. "Stalker, huh?"

  He was taking this pretty calmly, and my hopes rose.

  "Yeah. I did him a favor once, and he's extremely grateful."

  "What kind of favor?" There was a tinge of suspicion in his voice.

  "She disenchanted me," Jeff said helpfully. I wondered if there was a way to reenchant him. He'd be less of a bother if all he could say was "ribbit," and the restaurant would call the cops if he took his clothes off. "I was cursed to spend eternity as a frog, until she freed me with a kiss."

  Keith turned to look at me, one eyebrow raised as if asking for an explanation. "He was lost in the park, and um, well, naked, and I got help for him." In essence, Jeff and I had told the same story. My version just sounded saner, even if his was more accurate.

  "Do you do that sort of thing often?" Keith asked.

  "No, just that one time." Jeff launched into another aria, one I recognized from a pasta commercial, even if I didn't know what opera it was from. I wondered what all the Italian words he put around my name meant.

  I glanced toward Ari's table and saw that they were all staring— as was every other patron in the restaurant. I caught Ari's eye and mouthed the word "Help," but she gave me an innocent look, as if to say, "You told me to leave you alone." I narrowed my eyes at her, and with an exaggerated sigh she waved a hand. In midphrase the aria stopped and Jeff said, "Ribbit."

  Had she put the frog illusion back on him? I wished I could see what my date saw. If a tuxedoed man singing arias to your date was weird, that man suddenly disappearing and a frog taking his place would be beyond strange.

  The restaurant manager—the real one this time—came to our table and said, "Miss, is this person bothering you?"

  "Yes. Yes, he is." The manager and one of the waiters each took Jeff by an arm and dragged him away. I assumed that meant they didn't think he was a frog, or they would have removed him from the restaurant in a different way.

  Our waiter then stopped by and asked, "Would you like to see the dessert tray?"

  Without hesitation, Keith said, "No thanks. Just the check, please." My heart sank.

  That was definitely a bad sign. When the waiter had gone, Keith turned to me and said, "I hope you don't mind if we call it a night. I have somewhere I have to be pretty early in the morning." In other words, I was being ditched. I couldn't blame him. In his shoes, I'd ditch me, too. But that didn't stop it from being a huge disappointment.

  He paid in cash as soon as the waiter showed up with the check. Then he escorted me to the front door. "It was nice meeting you, Katie. It was an, um, well, interesting evening."

  I winced. "Sorry about that." I wanted to say that sort of thing didn't happen to me often, but the problem was, it probably would, given my line of work. "Thanks for dinner, though."

  "Yeah. Well, I'll call you." His tone made it the "you'll never hear from me again"

  version of "call you." The fact that he quickly disappeared around the corner underscored that impression. I was left standing on the sidewalk, holding the giant bouquet of roses Jeff had given me. It looked like I'd graduated from little sister to freak. Either way, it meant there wouldn't be a second date. With a deep sigh of regret, I began walking home.

  As I walked I mulled over my situation. I was trapped between two worlds, not really belonging to either. I wasn't magical, and facing the reality of magical life—like kissing frogs—freaked me out. But I wasn't totally normal, either, for the magical world had a nasty habit of spilling over into the rest of my life. If I thought my social life was complicated before, now it was a tangled mess. I adjusted my grip on the roses, then gasped when I accidentally hit a thorn. I paused on the sidewalk to suck my injured finger, stepping out of the way so I wouldn't block the person I heard walking behind me. I froze when the sound of footsteps behind me also stopped.

  My heart pounding in my chest, I moved forward again, walking faster. Now I didn't hear those other footsteps at all. Maybe I'd imagined them in the first place, or maybe the person behind me had turned off to step into a building or down a side street. The thought didn't calm me down much.

  I had enough street smarts to know that if you think you're being followed, it's best to immediately head to a safe place, preferably one that's well lit and full of people.

  There was a Duane Reade ahead, open twenty-four hours, and usually with at least one cop in there buying snacks or antacid at all times. I'd just make it one more block, go into the store, and mill around enough to make sure I wasn't being followed. If I was still nervous and if there was a cop in there, I might be able to play Southern belle and sweet-talk him into walking me home, only a block or so away.

  Having a plan made me feel better. I got a tighter grip on my purse and wondered if I could hit someone hard enough with the roses to make the thorns do any damage, then set off toward the drugstore with a purposeful stride.

  I was halfway down the block when I felt the tingle and pressure in the air that meant someone was doing magic nearby. That made me nervous, even though I knew I'd be relatively safe. Magic couldn't affect me directly. Was someone trying to use that control spell on me, without realizing I was immune? I'd have to let Merlin and Owen know about this.

  I forced myself to keep walking. I just had to get to the corner and cross the street, and I'd be safely at the drugstore.

  Then I felt the tingle again, followed by a rush of wind and a loud pop. Something dark came out of nowhere and grabbed me hard around the waist, knocking the air out of my lungs so that I couldn't even scream for help.

  fifteen

  Before I moved to New York, I took a self-defense class at my hometown's karate studio/tanning salon, mostly to make my mother feel better about me going to the big bad city. This was exactly the kind of situation the class had been designed to teach us to deal with, but my mind had gone frighteningly blank. It was like something out of a nightmare, being in danger but being so paralyzed with fear that I couldn't scream or move.

  It seemed like hours later, but it could only have been a second or two before I thought of what to do. I shoved the roses into the guy's face to distract him. He sneezed, but he didn't release his grasp. Then I remembered something from the self-defense class about kicking the guy in the knee. That was supposed to be a weak spot. I was wearing pointy-toed heels, so I lifted my right leg and gave my attacker a good wallop in the kneecap. The theory was that the pain would distract him enough to loosen his grip on me so I could get free. He did loosen his grip, but it was so fast that my leg was still raised from kicking him, so I lost my balance and hit the pavement.

  I hadn't been the best student in the class, needless to say.

  Now I was in even bigger trouble because it would take time for me to get to my feet, and during that time he'd be able to grab me again. I'd dropped my purse when it fell, and I knew I was in real danger when instead of going after my purse, he came after me. He wasn't a garden-variety mugger, then. I pulled off one shoe and hurled it at his head. There was a thud and a curse, then he staggered. Got him! Those hours in the backyard with rocks and baseballs had paid off. I was getting my feet under me to make a run for it when I heard a rush of wings. I looked up to see Ari and her friends. They surrounded the dark figure, and I felt that magical tingle. This time there was an added charge in the air, as magic apparently flew back and forth be
tween the fairies and my attacker.

  A hand grasped my arm and I squeaked—which was an improvement over paralyzed silence, but still not very effective. "It's okay, Katie, it's me." I recognized Rod's voice and let him help me to my feet. "Are you hurt?"

  "I don't think so. Only my dignity, I imagine." I found my shoe, put it back on and gave myself a quick survey, but from what I could tell, I hadn't even torn my stockings. "What's going on? What are you doing here?"

  "We can talk about it later, but now I want to get you away from here. They've got it under control."

  "Got what under control?"

  Before he could answer, there was another whoosh of wings, and Sam was on the scene with some of his people, including the beaked gargoyle I'd seen earlier. "Okay, let's haul the perp away," Sam instructed.

  Rod bent to pick up my purse, then put his arm around my waist and said, "Come on, let's get you somewhere safe."

  "Safe would be nice."

  "I don't live too far from here, if you'd rather go there and get yourself together, maybe talk some, before you go home." Under other circumstances I'd suspect that was a pickup line, coming from Rod, but he sounded genuinely concerned. If he was a big enough letch that he'd hit on a woman who'd just been mugged, then I might as well find out now instead of later.

  "That sounds like a good idea," I said. It did. I wasn't sure I wanted to face my roommates until I'd calmed down considerably. Telling them about the date was going to be bad enough. Gemma would kill me for scaring off the perfect guy.

  He walked me down a side street, then another side street, and then to a modem apartment building. We went through the lobby to a bank of elevators. "I didn't know you lived near here," I said when we were inside the elevator. It was a weak attempt at casual conversation, considering how badly my voice shook.

  "There are a lot of us in this neighborhood."

  "Any particular reason? It's not extra loaded with magic, or anything like that, is it?"

  He smiled. "No, not really. There's just a lot to do around here, and some of the Village denizens are odd enough that nobody pays much attention to us." The elevator came to a stop, and he escorted me off. He unlocked a door, then pushed it open and said, "Welcome to my humble abode."