Enchanted, Inc.

by Shanna Swendson

  “I’ll leave you to get settled in,” Rod said. “Just let me know if you need anything. You can reach me by phone, or come down if you have the time.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “I’ll see you around.” He waved at me and left. I turned to see Angie with a scrunched-up look of distaste on her face.

  “Who let the dogs out?” she said in a nasal Long Island voice. Even though I thought her remark was rude, it was nice to have my view of Rod’s looks validated, after seeing so many others swooning at his feet.

  “He’s actually pretty nice,” I said, putting my purse and briefcase down at the desk Gregor had pointed out. I’d almost forgotten how unattractive Rod could be, the more time I spent with him. When he wasn’t trying so hard to play the charmer, he was much more appealing.

  Angie finished her nails, then closed her bottle of nail polish. “Okay, I guess I’d better show you around,” she said, waving her hands in front of her face. She held them out, her fingers spread wide, as she got out of her chair and headed to the far side of the office. “Over here’s the coffee room. The pot with the orange handle’s decaf. When you finish a pot, make a fresh one, and by finish we mean anything less than a full cup left in the pot. No leaving a tablespoon and claiming you didn’t empty the pot, like certain people do.” She raised her voice and said, “Gary!” apparently addressing the guy who still had his nose stuck in his book. “Creamer and sugar are in the cabinet, and there’s also tea. Hot water comes out of that spout on the coffee machine.”

  We walked farther into the coffee room, and I noticed that the sink was full of empty coffee mugs. “You’ll want to bring your own mug, and you’re supposed to wash up after yourself. Refrigerator is community property, but if you want to keep your lunch, put your name on it. Sodas are free. If there’s something you like that we don’t have, let Gregor know. He’ll kvetch about it, but he’ll order it. He’s also supposed to get us lunch if we want it, but that just wigs out most of us, so we brown bag. Sometimes we all go out together.”

  She walked past me, still waving her fingers in the air to dry her nail polish, and headed down a short hallway. “Supply room’s in there—pens, paper, what have you. Not that we really need it.” She didn’t pause as she passed the open doorway. “And here are the bathrooms. Any questions?”

  “I think that covers it.” I felt queasy as I went back to my desk. This wasn’t what I’d had in mind. They’d made me feel so important, so special, and here I was in a low-rent version of the secretarial pool. With any luck, I’d stay so busy that I didn’t have to spend much time in this depressing office. If verifiers were so important to the company, I couldn’t help but wonder why they didn’t have better working conditions.

  I sat at my desk and, for lack of anything better to do, started opening drawers to see what was in there. I’d just found a stash of multicolored sticky notes when the office door opened and a frazzled-looking woman came in. She was slender to the point of being skinny, with a halo of frizzy hair surrounding her face. I couldn’t tell if she was middle-aged or if it was just the effect of her skinniness combined with the obvious degree of stress she was under that made her look that old. She crossed the room without acknowledging me and sat at the desk across from Gary.

  Angie leaned back in her chair. “Don’t let her get you worried. They didn’t catch Rowena before she nearly went around the bend. It’s not the job. She’s just that freaked out all the time.” She then turned back to her desk and started on a second coat of nail polish.

  I’d been heading around the bend myself before I found out I wasn’t imagining things, so I could sympathize with Rowena. I got up and went over to her desk. “Hi, I’m Katie,” I said to her.

  She looked up at me, then blinked like she expected me to disappear. Then she squinted, and at last she said, “I’m Rowena.” There was something vague about her voice, like she lived in her imagination most of the time. If she really was the dreamy sort, then I could see where being able to see magic all around her would be enough to send her right over the edge.

  Gregor’s phone rang, and he grunted a few times while taking down some info. Then he bellowed, “Angie!”

  “Just a sec, boss,” she said, still painting her nails. “I need to finish this hand.”

  He came out of his seat, his face turning red. “I don’t remember the last time we had a personal grooming emergency around here, but we’ve had plenty of verification emergencies!” he bellowed. He looked a lot like Mimi did before she turned evil. Angie ignored him, continuing to apply polish to her nails. He grew even redder. And then he turned green.

  I blinked like Rowena had, but he was still green, and his eyes were red. It was almost like the Incredible Hulk, but he didn’t get bigger, just scalier and greener, and horns sprouted out of the sides of his head. I’d heard about having monster bosses. I’d had monster bosses. But this was ridiculous.

  Angie painted the nail of her pinkie, then screwed the lid shut on her bottle of polish and stood up. “Okay, Gregor, what is it?” she asked.

  “They need you down in Sales. You need to see Hertwick. Take the new girl.”

  “C’mon, Katie.” I got up to follow her. “You mind getting the door for me? My nails are wet.”

  I was eager to get out of there, so I rushed ahead of her to get the door open. Once it shut behind us, she said, “Don’t worry about Gregor. He’s all bark, no bite. He may roar and turn green, but he’s cast a spell on the office that keeps him from being able to hurt any of us when he’s in monster mode.”

  “What is he, exactly?” I hadn’t seen anyone like Gregor in the city, and with the rate that people fly off the handle, you’d think I’d have seen at least one person turn green.

  “Oh, he’s human. Used to work in R and D, and then there was an accident. Rumor has it he was working after hours, trying to find a way to make himself look more fierce, and this is what happened. They moved him where he couldn’t do any harm, and that cutie Owen got promoted into his old job.” She gave me a sidelong look. “Did you get to meet Owen on the grand tour?”

  I knew it was tacky of me, but I couldn’t resist playing this particular card. “Yeah, but I knew him before. He was the one who spotted me in the first place. He was in on my testing, and then he was with Rod when they first told me about the job.” I tried to sound casual, like the whole thing was no big deal.

  “Whoa, you are so lucky. I just love it when I get called to R and D, which doesn’t happen often, or to some big executive meeting. He’s a total hottie. Too bad he can’t talk, but he’s cute when he turns red.”

  “He is kind of cute,” I admitted, but I didn’t want to get into a drool session any more than I’d wanted to rag on poor Rod. I felt it was time to change the subject. “Do you get called in on executive meetings often?”

  “I don’t. There’s this stuck-up bitch Kim they usually request for executive stuff. Apparently, I don’t project the proper image. Whatever.” I couldn’t argue that point, so I kept my mouth shut. “Anyway, like I was saying, don’t worry about Gregor. Even when he turns green, he can’t hurt you, and he can’t fire you. Only the big boss can fire you, and they need people like us so bad that you’re not gonna get fired unless you do something truly evil—and I do mean evil, not just walking out with some office supplies in your purse.”

  We reached the sales department, and although I’d tried to keep track of where we were going, I’d let myself get distracted by Angie’s monologue. I was going to need a guide to leave the building at the end of the workday. Angie waved a hand at the door, and I opened it for her. The door had opened automatically for Rod that morning, but it looked like that had been a magic thing and nonmagical people like us had to do it the hard way.

  Inside the office suite, Angie headed straight for the office where the gnome sat on his desk. “Yo, Hertwick, need something verified?” she asked.

  “No, I just called up there because I wanted to see your face again,” he snapped in a gru
ff voice.

  “New contract, huh?” she said, flopping down into the chair that sat behind his desk. “Lemme have a look.”

  He shoved a piece of parchment at her. “And make it snappy. The customer’s waiting.” I looked out into the outer office and noticed a tall, slender man wearing a loud bowling shirt sitting on a sofa, drinking a Coke.

  Angie frowned at the contract. “Well, looks like you got seven clauses here. That sound right to you?”

  Hertwick growled. “There were supposed to be six.”

  I leaned over her shoulder to look at the document. I wouldn’t have been entirely surprised if she had the count wrong, but there were seven clauses in the contract. I skimmed over the headers, avoiding the legal mumbo jumbo buried within. “Looks like number six is the problem one,” I said, forgetting myself and thinking out loud. “They’ve got a clause in here about being able to return the merchandise for cash if it doesn’t sell in thirty days.”

  Hertwick snatched the contract back. “Let me see that!” He squinted as he studied the page, then climbed down the side of the desk, using pulled-out drawers as a staircase, and ran into the outer office, his arms waving as he shouted at the visitor.

  “You’re not supposed to interpret, just tell them what’s there,” Angie said, sounding bored as she inspected her nails. “Then they figure out what shouldn’t be there after you read it to them.”

  “This one was pretty obvious,” I said. “I used to run a store, so I’m used to vendor contracts. That clause looked different from the rest, and thirty days is a pretty short period if you’re selling on consignment.”

  She looked up at me, and I could tell I’d already been labeled as the wannabe teacher’s pet, the one who was going to ruin things for the rest of them by going above and beyond the call of duty. It wouldn’t be too long before I became “that stuck-up bitch Katie, the one who thinks she’s hot stuff because Owen found her.”

  It wasn’t a position I liked being in, but I also felt it was important to do a good job. I reminded myself that I didn’t have to find friends at work. I already had a lot of friends, good friends. Besides, if Angie had time to sit around the office painting her nails, chances were good that she wasn’t necessarily the cream of the crop in Verification. Maybe the rest of my new coworkers were different.

  We helped Hertwick double-check his contract, once he finished yelling at his customer, then we went back to our office. There were more people in there now, including a prim-looking thirtysomething woman in a business suit. That had to be Kim. Sure enough, she stood to greet me when we came through the door. “Hi, you must be Katie. I’m Kim. Sorry I wasn’t here when you arrived, but I had executive business to contend with.”

  I heard a snort from Angie, and as much as I hated to agree with her, I did get the impression that Kim was stuck-up, at the very least. I’d have to wait to determine the “bitch” part. I forced a smile. “Hi, Kim, nice to meet you. Have you worked here long?”

  “Two years. I’m the senior member of this department. I’m your best bet if you have any questions.” She said this with a disdainful glance at Angie, who snorted again.

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” I said as I sat at my desk. Angie pulled a bottle of clear top coat out of her desk drawer and went to work on her manicure.

  Now I wished I’d thought to bring a book with me, if my job was going to involve sitting around and waiting until I was needed. There had been plenty of books in Owen’s lab area, and I wondered if any of them were worth reading. There was a company roster in the top desk drawer. I found Owen’s name, then picked up the phone. This felt awkward to do surrounded by my coworkers, but none of them seemed to be paying attention to me, so I dialed.

  Owen answered his phone himself, and fairly quickly. “Katie!” he said, before I had a chance to identify myself. For a second I wondered if he was a precog of some sort, then I noticed that the phone had caller ID on it.

  “Hi,” I said, deliberately not saying his name. “I was wondering if y’all had any books there that might be a good intro to magic. I didn’t bring anything with me, and it looks like I might have time to kill, so I thought maybe I should just start studying up.”

  “That’s a good idea. I’m sure I have something around here. When I find it, I’ll have it sent over.”

  “Thanks so much,” I said. I hung up the phone to find most of the office staring at me. Was it so odd to take initiative around here? Kim narrowed her eyes at me, as if she saw me as a threat. Angie just rolled her eyes and went back to blowing on her fingernails. Gary looked up from his book, shook his head, and went back to reading. Rowena glared at me for a second, then went back to spinning around in her chair.

  I reminded myself that even though these weren’t ideal working conditions, it wasn’t Mimi. Boredom was better than frustration. Then there was a flash of light and a popping sound and a stack of books appeared on my desk. That was handy. I wondered what else could be teleported like that.

  The books were all old, with rich leather covers embossed in gold. The top one’s title was A History of Magic. I opened it and found a note stuck to the inside cover. “Let me know if you have any questions.” It was signed “O.P.” I was glad he’d put the note where it wasn’t immediately visible, then realized he had to be aware of the interest shown in him. Knowing him, I suspected he hated it.

  History had always been one of my favorite subjects, so I dove right in. It went all the way back to prehistoric times, covering ancient sects and discussing the difference between religious magic and the kind of magic that was an inherited skill. Some of this stuff would have made a great novel, and it was hard to believe that people around here considered it real history.

  I’d just reached the part about the role of magic in the rise of King Arthur when another call came through. This one rang straight to Kim’s desk. She answered with an overkill of brisk professionalism and took a page full of notes before she hung up the phone and turned to me. “I need to sit in on an important meeting. Katie, you should come with me.”

  Although I’d reached a really interesting spot in my book, I eagerly followed her out of the office. She carried a notepad and pen with her, and I wondered if I should have brought something. As we walked she gave me her own version of life in the verification department. “I would discourage you from emulating Angie,” she said, her lips curling in disapproval. “The fact that our kind is too rare for them to fire us is no excuse for slacking off. A person can rise within this company from our department. All the executives want a verifier as a personal assistant. Play your cards right and impress the right people, and you may just make your way out of the pool.”

  “You’ve been here two years, right?” I asked, and then realized that was the wrong thing to say. As professional as she tried to act, Kim was still in the pool. “You must really know your way around,” I added, hurrying to cover up my foot-in-mouth episode.

  “I pay attention, and I keep my eyes and ears open. If you do the same, you could move into my position when I leave.”

  “You’re planning to leave?”

  “There’s a new chief executive. He’s going to need an assistant, and the best assistants for executives are immunes. Who else from Verification is he going to choose?”

  I had to admit she had a point. I couldn’t imagine flighty Rowena, lazy Angie, or whatever Gary was when he wasn’t reading working with Mr. Mervyn. Then again, I wasn’t sure I could see Kim at his side, either.

  We reached the conference room where I’d been spending a lot of time lately. Kim took a seat not at the table, but in a chair set against the back wall. I sat next to her. She got out her pen and notepad and whispered to me, “I outline the gist of the meeting—who’s sitting where, what they look like, then each major point of action and what everybody’s agreed upon. Before the meeting ends, I hand my notes over to the meeting leaders, then they check for any discrepancies before adjourning the meeting. The other side has their own verifie
r. If there’s a discrepancy on either side, they hash things out before they leave.”

  It sounded complicated, and more than a little paranoid. I’d have to ask someone how often people tried to use illusion in a business deal. It must happen often enough, considering that I’d already caught someone trying to fudge a contract and I hadn’t even been on the job a whole day.

  Some of the MSI people were already at the table, and then the doors opened to admit a new group of people, all wearing dark business suits. “This is a corporate client,” Kim whispered. “We’re doing some custom spell work for them.”

  I recognized a few of the MSI people from lunch. One of them flashed me a quick smile, and I felt a lot less out of place. I noticed that none of them acknowledged Kim.

  The meeting began, and it was pretty much like every other business meeting I’d ever sat through. There was the usual amount of hot air being blown around, only sometimes literally in this case. It seemed that they felt the need to show off by adjusting the room’s temperature to their personal preferences, summoning food and beverages, and generally doing a lot of arm waving. Kim’s pen moved constantly.

  I didn’t have to compare notes with a magical person to tell who was trying to pull something. Their body language was a good enough clue. It was just like being able to tell when someone was lying to you and thought they were getting away with it—shifty eyes, ill-concealed smirks, body twitches. Both sides seemed to be playing the game, but the visitors were more flamboyant about it. I didn’t get the impression that they really were trying to cheat, just trying to test the waters. The MSI guys were doing just enough for gamesmanship. It was almost like watching a congressional debate on C-SPAN, only a lot more interesting.