Enchanted, Inc.

by Shanna Swendson

  My audience lacked the look of rapt anticipation I’d hoped for. Instead, they looked concerned. “Does it have something to do with that lump on your head?” Marcia asked.

  Actually, I’d been planning to talk about being assigned a big project by the CEO, but the moment she asked the question, all my good intentions about telling a boring cover story to explain the knot flew right out the window. I couldn’t keep one of the most exciting days in my life entirely to myself. It wouldn’t hurt to tell a teensy little part of the story, would it? I could talk about the adventure without getting into magic. “Yeah, it does.”

  “Oh, Katie, you don’t have another bad boss, do you?” Gemma asked. “I know Mimi was awful, but at least she wasn’t physically abusive.”

  “No, I don’t have a bad boss. Well, okay, he’s not perfect. He has anger management issues.” And that was putting it mildly. “But the head honcho is great, and anyway, that has nothing to do with this. We had a little adventure at the office today. Some guy got in and was looking to steal some stuff, and I was the one who caught him.”

  Marcia nodded. “I’ve heard about that happening, people wandering around offices, trying to look like they belong and stealing laptops when no one is looking. You caught him?”

  “I don’t know about catching, but I saw him and yelled for help, so he was caught.”

  Gemma gave me a friendly punch on the shoulder. “Way to go, Katie. How’d you know he didn’t belong, since you’re so new?”

  Oops. Maybe I should have thought this through before I blurted anything out. “He really looked like he didn’t belong, and he looked like he didn’t expect anyone to see him there.” And that would be because he was invisible to everyone but me, but I definitely needed to leave that part out. I shrugged. “He just looked suspicious, and my instincts kicked in.”

  “How’d you get that lump, then?” Marcia asked, her eyes full of concern. “Did he hurt you?”

  “He tried to take off when I yelled, so I grabbed onto him until Security got there, but he shook me off and I hit a wall. But I’m okay. They had someone take care of me at the office.”

  Marcia frowned. “This place you’re working isn’t dangerous, is it?”

  That one was going to be a challenge to answer with any degree of honesty because you need a pretty good idea of the truth before you can come up with a good cover, and I didn’t really know the truth. “I don’t know that it’s any more dangerous than any other place.” That is, any other place that wasn’t in the middle of a magical war against an evil rogue wizard.

  “You win the prize for most interesting second day on the job,” Gemma said with a grin.

  “It gets better. Well, maybe not better, but there is more.”

  “The security guard who came to your rescue was incredibly buff and handsome, and he wants to take you out to dinner this weekend?” Gemma asked hopefully.

  “Not exactly.” The person who’d come to my rescue was incredibly handsome, and when he’d been helping me up to Merlin’s office, I’d noticed that he had some decent muscles. On the other hand, the security guard who’d shown up was made of stone and had wings. As far as I knew, neither of them wanted to take me out to dinner this weekend. I didn’t want to delve too deeply into this particular topic. “Actually, these two things aren’t directly related. I got assigned to a pretty important new project.”

  “That’s better than a studly security guard, especially if it gets you some executive attention,” Marcia said. “It could be your first step on your way to the top.”

  Gemma rolled her eyes. “Don’t sneeze at studly security guards. If one was cute, maybe you should ask him to dinner to thank him for coming to your rescue.”

  “We’re talking about Katie’s career,” Marcia said. “That’s the priority.”

  “That’s coming from someone who hasn’t experienced a studly security guard who’s feeling like a hero. Otherwise, you’d have a totally different opinion.”

  I held up my hands in the T-shaped time-out signal. “Whoa, guys, hang on here a second. Can I finish telling my story before you decide whether my career or my love life is more important?”

  “Sorry,” they said in unison. Then Marcia asked, “What kind of project is it?”

  “They haven’t done much marketing at this company, so they want my input on a marketing plan.”

  “That’s terrific!” Marcia said. “Just watch, you’ll have a private office and a title before you know it.”

  The funny thing was, as exciting as my news was to them, I’d left out the most interesting parts of the story, like the invisible man, the powerful (and gorgeous) young wizard, and the fact that I was working for Merlin. It was frustrating that I had to keep the most exciting aspects of my life such a secret, even from my closest friends. I knew I’d have to be careful not to let anything slip in a rush of enthusiasm.

  “What are you two doing Friday night?” Gemma asked, changing the subject before I was tempted to say more.

  “I don’t know. Why?”

  “I may have another setup for us.”

  Marcia groaned. “I don’t think I’ve recovered from the last one. Are you sure that guy wasn’t a carrier of African sleeping sickness?”

  “He wasn’t so bad. And he was good-looking. He’s also pretty rich. What about you, Katie?”

  I tried not to groan. What with having to come up with the plan that would buy some powerful wizards time to save the world from magical evil, I didn’t feel like dealing with a blind date. “I’ll have to get back to you on that,” I said. “With this project, I may be working late.”

  “Not on a Friday, silly. Just let me know when you’re sure.”

  For the first time in my life I hoped I’d be working late on a Friday.

  The next morning I did my hair in a style that left a curtain of bangs falling across one side of my forehead. It hid the bruise and made me look like a movie star, but I had a feeling that having my hair in my face would drive me stark raving mad before I even got to work.

  Once again Owen was at the subway platform when I got there. I halfway suspected him of doing that on purpose, and I wondered if he was able to do it because I was so predictable or because he was using some of his more unique abilities. I was tempted to test him, to switch to a different subway line or leave earlier or later in the morning to see what happened. On the other hand, what was so bad about commuting every morning with a nice, good-looking guy who could keep me safe from any criminals or lunatics that might cross my path? I’d have to be insane to look for a way not to run into him every morning. Then I remembered the look on his face as he’d held that intruder pinned to the wall, and I couldn’t help but shudder. In my world, a weird, scary guy was one who didn’t get the hint when you told him three times in a row that you couldn’t go out with him because you were busy washing your hair. A guy who could fling people around with his mind was a whole new level of weird and scary.

  He smiled when he saw me, then immediately frowned and looked worried. “Your head, is it okay?” He looked so sweet and cute that I couldn’t help reminding myself that as powerful as he was, I was immune to his magic. I didn’t have to worry about him flinging me around. Obviously, however, I wasn’t immune to his charm, for I immediately got a warm, yet shivery feeling in the pit of my stomach when I saw his smile. He was the boy next door, a heroic rescuer, and a dangerous potential bad boy all rolled into one. I knew if he made any effort at all to woo me, I’d be as helpless as the victims of Rod’s love spells. It was a good thing he was too shy to make the first move—that is, if he had any interest in me whatsoever.

  “I’m fine,” I insisted, hoping I wasn’t blushing enough to give away what I’d been thinking about him. “Just a nasty bruise, and thus the attempted cosmetic cover-up.”

  “It looks nice.” He turned a particularly interesting shade of pink before adding, “I’m sorry.”

  “For what? It wasn’t your fault.”

  “Ye
s, it was. If I’d made it to you sooner, I might have been able to help you before you got hurt.” He ducked his head and studied the platform floor. “I finished reading the paragraph I was on before I got up and ran.”

  I laughed, which made him turn even pinker. “That’s okay, really. I still don’t think you’d have made it before he shoved me into the wall. I should have known better than to try to tackle an intruder by myself.”

  Before he could respond, a train came rumbling out of the tunnel. “You did us all a big favor,” he said as he ushered me onto the train. “You were very brave.” Now I was the one who was blushing.

  The train was too crowded for conversation, especially the kind of conversation we’d be most likely to have, so we didn’t try to talk during the journey. We walked together across the park to the office building, greeted Sam at the entrance, then parted ways at the top of the lobby stairs. I went into the verification pool just long enough to inform them that I’d be out on an assignment most of the day, then headed to the sales department.

  I asked Hertwick where to find Mr. Hartwell, and he directed me to a pair of giant double doors at the far end of the corridor. Mr. Hartwell was apparently quite the bigwig. Just as I was about to knock, the doors creaked open. He sat behind a wooden desk almost as large as the one in Merlin’s office. “Good morning,” I said.

  He looked up from his work to smile at me. “Ah, Miss Chandler. Good morning.”

  “I thought we ought to get started right away.”

  “Most definitely. Please have a seat. Would you like some coffee?”

  “Yes, please,” I said, settling myself in the armchair in front of his desk. I braced myself for the mug to pop into my hands. This time, I didn’t jump or spill any of the coffee. With the hand that wasn’t holding coffee, I flipped open my spiral notebook to the notes I’d made the night before.

  “The first thing I need to do is get a better idea of how you get your products into the marketplace and promote them,” I said.

  He looked puzzled by my question. “We send them to the stores and put information on what the spells do on the packaging.”

  “That’s it?”

  “It’s all we’ve ever needed to do.”

  “You’re going to need to do more than that now. Assuming your competition isn’t quite ready for the mass market, we have a slight head start. It’s best if we can get our messages into the market before the competition gets there, so we don’t look so much like we’re reacting to the competition. How fast can you get your packaging changed?”

  “Instantly.”

  I took a deep breath. Too bad I hadn’t had access to magic in any of the other marketing campaigns I’d done. In the real world, it would take months. Here, we might be in gear before the end of the day.

  “That makes life easier,” I said. “What we need to do is incorporate some key messages into everything you do to communicate about your company and your products. A line or two on the packaging and in the material you send out to announce a new product should do it.”

  “Oh, that’s quite doable.”

  “Now, is Merlin’s presence here a big secret, or is that something you can promote? He should be a real celebrity in the magical community, and you may be able to play on that.”

  He frowned and clasped his hands together on top of his desk. “That can work both ways. Most people know he’d only be brought back if there was trouble, so they’d assume something was wrong if they saw him.”

  “Good point. Okay, we scratch Merlin as a celebrity endorser.” I crossed that idea off of my notebook. It struck me that I was very possibly in way over my head. I wasn’t up to running a major campaign like this for a normal company, but here I was trying to market something I didn’t fully understand, and the stakes were a lot higher than they would be for launching something like a soft drink. The way they talked, this sounded like a life-or-death issue. “But we can change the packaging, add some additional corporate messaging to the spell release information, and get some information out to the various magic-specific Web sites, right?”

  He nodded enthusiastically, and I got the sinking feeling that he understood about as much of what I’d said as I understood when they talked magic. We were all clueless together, in our own individual areas. “Sounds like a great plan! You’ll just need to talk to the design department.”

  “You have a design department?”

  “Of course. Someone has to design the packaging.”

  Design was one of my comfort zones. Not that I knew that much about how to design, but I understood a lot about the process. That department had been one of my hiding places on Mimi’s bad days. They hated her as much as I did, so I found any excuse I could to tarry when I was sent there on an errand.

  Mr. Hartwell thanked me again and gave me directions to Design. The department was tucked away into a basement room, and the word “department” was something of an overstatement. It was more like an individual. He was quite young, young enough to make me feel old, and so tall and lanky that at first I thought he must be an elf. He sat slumped on a beat-up old sofa in the corner of the office, his long legs stretched halfway across the room. He appeared to be playing with a Gameboy, but I was sure it was something far more magical than that. I didn’t see any of the usual design department trappings in here, such as a drafting table or a super powerful Macintosh computer. Maybe this was just the break room.

  I waited until he finished a game—judging by the muttered curse and sigh of disgust when he lowered the gadget for a second—then cleared my throat and asked, “Are you the designer?”

  He looked up at me like I’d just materialized out of nothing. “Yeah, you must be Katie.” News really did travel fast around here. “I’m Ralph.”

  “Hi, Ralph. I need to talk to you about the packaging design.”

  “Cool. I’ve been trying to get them to jazz it up for ages.” He showed no signs of even thinking about unfolding himself and getting off the sofa to head to his office, so I assumed we would conduct the meeting where we were.

  “I don’t know how much we’ll be able to jazz things up, but we will add more corporate messaging.”

  “Aw, hell, we might as well give ’em a makeover while we’re at it.” He put down his Gameboy—now I was pretty sure that’s what it was—and waved his hand in the air. A packaged spell fell into my hands. It startled me enough that I had to juggle for a second to keep from dropping it. “What do you think?”

  Once I managed to get a good grasp on the package, I took a look at it. Then I had to blink, and I wished I had some sunglasses handy. It certainly was different. The packaging I’d seen on the previous day’s visit to the store had been basic and straightforward, just stating the spell and its possible uses in an attractive layout. This used wild graphics and bright colors that blinked at me. “It’s very eye-catching,” I said, trying to think of a diplomatic way to say, “Hell, no!”

  “See the scrolling text?” He pointed to a spot on the packaging where information rolled across like a news ticker in Times Square.

  “Yeah. That’s . . . interesting.”

  He beamed. “I figured out how to do that a while ago. We can have it say whatever we want, like putting things on sale or announcing a special offer—buy that spell, get another at half price.”

  I had to admire his initiative, even if I couldn’t admire his design. It was giving me a headache. “That’s a great idea,” I began. “I’m just worried that it’ll be a little confusing to our customers. If they have to wait for information to scroll past at the right time, they might miss something.” That always happened to me when I watched the morning news shows that used the scrolling tickers. I usually caught the tail end of a headline and had no idea what the story was about, then didn’t have time to wait until it scrolled around again.

  “But it’s cool!” he insisted. “I bet the competition won’t have it.”

  I restrained myself from suggesting that we give the idea to ou
r competition as a form of sabotage. Was it possible to perform a spell with a splitting headache? If we could inflict pain on anyone who bought one of the bad spells, we’d be able to nip this problem in the bud. “It might be too much for us to do at this stage, but keep working on the idea.”

  He did something with his hand, and the scrolling ticker disappeared. I felt the muscles around my eyes relax. “What about the rest of it?” he asked.

  “It’s certainly bright and colorful, but I’m not sure it conveys the message we want.”

  He glared up at me through bangs that fell across his eyes. “What do you want?”

  “I’m sure you know about the situation we’re in. We need to make sure people know we’re the only tried-and-true source for reliable, safe, well-tested spells, and we have been for more than a millennium. You can’t trust anyone else to give you the results you want.”

  “Okay, so more boring-like. Got it.” He waved his hand, and the package I held changed. Now it looked positively corporate, with the information I’d given him included as a tagline under the logo on the package cover. Better still, it didn’t give me a headache to look at it.

  “Perfect! I’ll just run this by Mr. Mervyn and see what he thinks, and then we can roll it out. How long will it take to get this in production and out in the market?”

  “Say the word, and it’s out there.”

  I stared at him for a second, not sure what he meant. “You mean, you can change what’s already on the shelf?”

  He shrugged. “Sure. Why not? You want posters, too?”

  “Yes, of course. Thanks. This is great.” There had been many times when I’d wished that it was this quick and easy. I’d be spoiled for working at any company that didn’t have a designer who could make retroactive changes to materials that had already been produced. Then again, someone like Mimi would abuse that power to keep changing her mind indefinitely.