She shifted her position in the chair. She didn't like what Fung was implying, even though she felt the same way.
Fung said, conversationally, “Why not start at the beginning and tell me all about it? It's about time for me to eat something, anyway.” He got to his feet, opened the mini-fridge, and started pulling out vegetables, charcuterie, and crackers. He spread everything on his desk between them. “I've got more than enough to share. How do you feel about having a picnic dinner with me?”
“Someone ought to help you eat all this food.” Zinnia furrowed her brow as she looked over the food. It was all appetizing and healthy. Something had changed dramatically since the last time she'd been inside Fung's office. She gave him a questioning look. “Celery sticks? What happened to your drawer full of Pringles and Mars bars?”
He gave her a sly wink, closed the mini-fridge door, and returned to his seat across from her. “That's a long story, and not the one you want to hear right now.” He ripped open a box of whole-grain crackers. “Tell me about your first impressions of everyone at the parking department.”
“Permits Department.”
He almost smiled. “Duly noted. What made you take a job there, anyway?”
“It's not a what but a who.” She leaned back in her chair. “Margaret Mills.”
He chuckled. “Go on.”
This wasn't how Zinnia had planned to spend her Tuesday evening, but if the detective thought her perspective might help him with the investigation, she would oblige. Like most witches, Zinnia was attuned to the needs of others. She was happiest when helping.
Zinnia grabbed her purse, pushed aside the jars of magic supplies, and pulled out a couple of square, thin packages. She tossed one over the desk to Ethan.
“Sure,” she said. “Let's do this.”
Ethan's eyebrows shot up as he caught the foil square. “Zinnia! I'm flattered, but...” He blinked rapidly at the square packet. “Oh. This is one of those moist hand wipes.”
Zinnia felt her cheeks flush but kept an even tone. “What did you think it was, Detective?”
“Nothing. Never mind.” He ripped open the square foil packet and started cleaning his fingers with the moist towelette. “Tell me about the day you met Karl Kormac.”
She wiped her fingers with her own towelette, even though she didn't need to. Witches have an extremely high tolerance to bacteria. If anything, a good dose of bugs makes them stronger.
She began the tale. “The first time I met my boss, he showed me how to use the coffee maker. Try not to get too excited, because there's more. We were alone in the break room together, and it took me about two minutes flat to figure out Karl's big secret.”
“Which was?” Ethan leaned forward in anticipation.
Chapter 6
One Year Ago
After only two hours at her new job, Zinnia was sent for a coffee break by the woman training her. Zinnia was ready and willing to keep going, but the woman, Annette Scholem, was getting hoarse from talking non-stop. She'd been bubbling about the staff picnic they'd have on the first day of spring, and the summer parade float, and the bowling league she wanted them all to join. “What do you think of this for a name? The Incredibowls!” Annette hadn't waited for a response before crinkling up her big, brown eyes and giggling. “It's perfect, right?” Zinnia had to agree that it was a great name for a bowling team. Annette's enthusiasm was just that contagious.
They hadn't covered much about issuing permits. Zinnia had barely learned how to log on to the internal network before getting sent off for a breather. It was a good thing she was a quick study on computer systems. Annette Scholem was instantly lovable, but she was no trainer.
Zinnia walked into the break room, took one look at the calendar on the staff refrigerator, and stopped in her tracks. Pump the brakes! Today was that day. All thoughts about the morning's training session screeched to a halt.
She double checked with her phone. It was true. Today was that very special day in January. Statistically speaking, it was the date the average person gave up their New Year's resolutions. It was also Zinnia's birthday. She'd completely forgotten.
An older male coworker joined her in the break room. What was his name again? He had a funny name, with Ks that might have been Cs, and so he'd spelled it out for her when they'd met two hours earlier. Karl Kormac. That was it.
Karl was the only person in the office who wore a traditional suit and tie—albeit a cheap, off-the-rack version. The other two men were more casual. Gavin Gorman, the sporty guy with the eerily white teeth, had come in wearing a turtleneck sweater one size too small. All the better to show off his chiseled physique. The other one, Jesse Berman, had barely introduced himself to Zinnia before disappearing into his private office. It was probably for the best that their interaction had been brief. Zinnia's usually nimble tongue had gotten mischievous, trying to tie itself into a knot. Jesse was younger than Zinnia, by a full decade if not more, so her crush was highly inappropriate. But he was effortlessly attractive in his business casual clothes. He smelled like the woods and fresh winter air. He made a woman have feelings. Even now, standing in the break room with boring old Karl, Zinnia was blushing as she thought about Jesse. Worries about job training and even her birthday grew distant. What was wrong with forgetting a birthday, anyway? It could be the secret to preventing aging.
Karl's gruff voice broke through her daydreams. “That coffee pot beat you, too, huh?”
She started to say no, it hadn't, and she preferred to drink tea from the thermos she'd brought from home, but Karl didn't wait for a response.
“Stupid contraption,” he said. “We used to have the kind that takes the pods, for individual cups, but then Gavin had a different idea.” He rolled his eyes. “Mr. Gourmet Fancypants insisted we go back to brewing full pots so we could use the coffee pod fund for buying organic beans, hand sorted and air roasted or some nonsense. We get it delivered from Dreamland Coffee every week.” He picked up a foil bag of beans and poured a third of the bag into the top of the coffee machine. “It's probably just Nabob from the warehouse store, and they put it into new packages to sell it for twice as much. Who can tell?”
Zinnia could tell. She could tell by the smell of the beans alone that it was the highest quality coffee a person could buy. And she had seen the air roasting process herself a time or two.
“Dreamland does make the best coffee,” Zinnia said. “I know—” She was about to say she knew the owner, Maisy Nix, but stopped herself. A wise witch doesn't name drop.
Karl descended on the coffee maker's control buttons, muttering under his breath at the “stupid contraption.” Little did he know, he was using the exact tone a magical person would use to curse a machine into not working. Zinnia watched with interest. Non-magical people could accidentally perform spells. It wasn't common, but it had been known to happen, especially in a town as magical as Wisteria.
Sure enough, the machine started flashing all its lights at once.
With a discreet wave of one hand, Zinnia sent a positive counterspell at the coffee pot. It made an obedient BEEP sound and began grinding the beans.
Karl beamed, evidently proud of himself. “See, I told you I could beat this thing. And I'm not even a rocket scientist.” He struck one finger in the air. “Although, I could have been a rocket scientist if I'd had more interest in engineering.”
Zinnia suppressed a smirk. “You could have been a rocket scientist, but instead you decided to work at City Hall, giving out permits for parades and special events?”
“That's right.” By the way he stared blankly at the brown stream of coffee filling the pot, Zinnia could tell he hadn't picked up on her subtle sarcasm. “It's very important work,” he said. “We have to make sure the appropriate permits are in place. It's what separates us from the animals.”
“Permits are what separate us from the animals?” Zinnia chuckled. “I hadn't thought of it that way.”
“Yep.” He rolled his shoulders back and
adjusted his belt, thrusting out his belly to the limits of his jacket. “It's a tough job, but someone's gotta do it. I'm happy to report that nobody's ever died on my watch.”
“That's comforting to hear.” She glanced at the door. Had she given Annette's vocal chords enough of a break?
Karl yanked out the glass coffee pot before the machine had finished brewing. He poured himself a mug of nearly-black brew. Then he raised the steaming cup to his lips and took a big sip. He didn't flinch. He took another, bigger sip, seemingly unbothered by the heat of the steaming drink.
He lowered the volume of his voice and asked, “How are things going with Annette?”
“Good,” Zinnia said carefully. She hadn't yet gotten a handle on the local office politics, and didn't want to give away too much.
“Annette sure likes to talk.”
“Yes.”
“She's a fine woman,” he said.
“She sure is.”
“It's too bad she doesn't have a man in her life.” Karl slowly tilted his head to the side. “Or does she? Has she said anything to you about a boyfriend?”
“No. She's mostly been telling me about office, uh, procedures.”
He made a tsk noise. “She should get out more. Annette's a lively woman. She should find herself a man.” He stared into Zinnia's eyes and added, “A real man.”
Zinnia was starting to get a handle on the local office politics. She had figured out Karl's big secret in no time at all.
“She's not getting any younger,” Karl said. “None of us are.”
Zinnia smiled knowingly. “Karl, it sounds to me like there's a man right here at the office that Annette could find if she wanted to.”
His eyes widened. “Who? What have you heard?”
She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “I think someone in this break room has a crush on her.”
His eyes grew even wider. “You do? But you just got here.”
She laughed and swatted him on the shoulder playfully. “Silly. I mean you.”
The pink in his cheeks deepened. With a low, gravelly voice, he asked, “Is it that obvious?”
“Only to people who are as perceptive as the two of us.” She stepped back and made a point of looking down at his hand. “There's no ring on your finger, Karl. Divorced?”
“Widower,” he said neutrally. “My wife passed a few years back. She was a talker, just like our Annette.”
Zinnia pulled a mug from the cupboard and poured a cup of coffee. She was feeling funny that morning. Not funny-ha-ha, but something else. Like she'd caught Spring Fever, even though it was only January. She felt herself shifting into this new persona. Zinnia Riddle, Permits Department clerk. Zinnia Riddle, regular woman, going to work at an office every day to perform rote tasks without the use of magic. Zinnia Riddle, matchmaker?
“Karl,” she said with a honey-sweet voice. “Do you like riddles?”
He frowned. “Is that a joke? Because your last name is Riddle?”
She laughed it off and pressed on with the riddle. “What is useless to one person but indispensable for two?”
“Beats me.”
“Love.” She paused for impact. “Love is the one thing that's useless to one and indispensable for two.”
He took a step back and eyed her warily. “I don't know what you're getting at, but you're not my type. Sorry. Redheads give me the heebie-jeebies.”
Zinnia let the insult bounce off her like water off the back of a butter gargoyle. Karl Kormac was not the sharpest pencil in the office. She smiled sweetly and offered him the coffee cup. “I'm not your type, but it sounds like Annette is. Why don't you take her a coffee?”
“Ah! Gotcha.” He took the cup and set it on the counter. “She likes it with two cream and one sugar. Not that I've been spying on her when she fixes her coffee. Not on purpose. It's just that a guy like me picks up on certain things. I do have excellent powers of perception.”
“Your perceptive powers won't do you any good if you don't use them.” It was true. Powers of all kinds got rusty with disuse.
He laughed nervously. “Are you some kind of love guru?”
“Not at all.” Despite her denial, something fluttered in her chest. Helping someone else had relaxed her, and now her true feelings were coming out, unguarded. “I can never love again.” She paused and continued in a dramatic, theatrical voice, “For, you see, my heart has been turned to stone.”
Karl looked away from her. He cleared his throat. The spoon went ting-ting-ting as he stirred Annette's coffee.
Zinnia fidgeted with the sugar packets. So much for keeping her cool at her new job.
“Thanks for the dating advice,” he said, finally. “But I wouldn't want to do anything risky. I'm kind of old, in case you didn't notice. I'm sixty-two. I've got six hundred and fifty-two days of work left before retirement. I'll get a gold watch from this place, then I'll start collecting those retirement checks. That's when I'll pursue my dreams.”
“Don't wait, Karl. My heart is stone, but yours still beats. You can take a chance on love.”
“You think? My doctor says the ol' ticker is in good shape. Maybe you're right.” His shoulders rose within his cheap suit with new-found confidence. “You know what? You're right. I should take a chance and tell Annette how I feel. I'm going to tell her right now. Everything.”
Zinnia held up one hand. “Not so fast. Maybe you should start by asking her to spend some time with you outside of the office.”
“But we're already here together all day. And I'm her supervisor, so I can tell her whatever I want, whenever I want. I could move her desk into my office.”
Zinnia's stomach lurched. “Wait, Karl. I didn't realize that. You're her supervisor?”
“And yours.”
“Oh, dear.” Zinnia rubbed her hands on her clothes. Two hours into her new job and she'd already made a huge mess. If she'd known a spell that could wind back time five minutes, she'd cast it right now, never mind the cost.
Karl, meanwhile, seemed unperturbed. “I may be the supervisor, but it's just a title. I don't have much real authority.”
“Sure, but it's still there. If you're her boss, then you can't put the wrong kind of pressure on her.”
His cheeks reddened. “I'm not a monster.”
“Of course not. I didn't mean to—”
“I'm just taking a cup of coffee to my friend,” he said, and he left the break room with both cups, stomping and dribbling coffee on the floor as he went.
Zinnia grabbed a paper towel to mop up the coffee drips on the floor. She was alone with her regrets.
Karl hadn't even tried to ask about her story, about why she'd said her heart was stone, but that was okay. Nobody ever wanted to know.
The First Day of Spring
The whole office was enjoying their lunch-time picnic on the lawn between City Hall and the forest of Pacific Spirit Park. Annette was beyond pleased at how much fun everyone seemed to be having. While the others played croquet, Annette and Zinnia took a break from the competition and settled on a picnic blanket in the sun.
Annette handed Zinnia a cluster of grapes. “Thanks,” Zinnia said, popping one into her mouth.
The older woman rolled onto her back and opened her mouth wide. “Now peel them and feed them to me,” she said with a giggle. “One at a time.”
“Ah! So this is why you've spent months talking up today's spring picnic. You wanted to enslave us.”
The two women laughed together. It was March now, and they'd grown closer since meeting in January. Zinnia felt comfortable and unselfconscious as she attempted to peel a grape and then lob it into Annette's mouth.
After a few minutes and several wet grapes on the face, Annette rolled to face Zinnia again. Annette propped her head up with one arm, letting her curly brown hair hang free. Her big, brown eyes were hidden behind sunglasses, but Zinnia could tell Annette was smiling with her whole face. The whole office was playing together outside, goofing around and teasing each o
ther like an unconventional family. Annette kicked off her shoes so she could wiggle her toes in the sun.
“Psst,” Annette said. “If you see Karl coming this way, give me a heads-up so I can put my shoes on again. I wouldn't want to drive him wild with the sight of my bare feet.”
Zinnia wrinkled her nose. “Is he still bugging you to go on a date with him?”
“Worse,” Annette replied. “I went for a walk with him last week to Lindell's because I wanted a diet iced tea, and now he thinks we are actively dating. He's been trying to line up our,” she made air quotes with her fingers, “second date.”
“My condolences,” Zinnia said. “When I first met him, I thought he was nice enough. I didn't realize he could also be...”
“A creepy little troll?”
Zinnia cast a guilty glance at the others to make sure they were still absorbed in their croquet match. Jesse had taken off his shirt for some reason, and now Gavin had to do the same so he could show off his spray tan. Karl was waving his arms, quibbling over the rules with Dawna. He saw Zinnia looking his way and stopped arguing to stare back at the two women on the picnic blanket.
Annette said, “If I ever find out who encouraged Karl to declare his love for me, I will strangle that person to death.”
Zinnia groaned. “Okay, but can you make it quick?”
Annette whipped off her sunglasses and blinked at Zinnia in disbelief. “You?” She held one hand to her bosom in mock horror. “I thought we were friends. That you were the little sister I never had!”
“I'm sorry, Annette. I'm so sorry. It was my first day at the office, and I wanted to fit in and be normal. I thought it would be sweet if I could help some romance blossom.”
Annette rolled onto her back again. “I'll forgive you, but only if you peel five grapes and get them into my mouth.”
“Deal,” Zinnia said. “And I am so sorry about the Karl thing. Maybe I can do something about it.”
“If you're so sorry, you can feed Karl an anti-love potion.”
“What?” Zinnia's whole body tensed. Why was Annette talking about potions? Did she know something about Zinnia, or about Margaret? Was this her way of starting a conversation about witchcraft?
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