I looked around for a bum who might be on the sidewalk nearby, watching comings and goings, but I didn't see another living being. There was a sharp whistle and the voice said, "Hey, up here." I craned my neck to see the gargoyle perched on the awning over the door. If I wasn't mistaken, it was the same gargoyle I sometimes saw at Grace Church, the one whose occasional presence disturbed me so.
"Let me guess, you're real, too, but most people don't see you at all," I said.
"Got it in one," he said, and this time I saw his grotesque mouth move, so I knew he was the one talking to me. "Sam's the name, building security's my game. This here's the day job. I sometimes fill in at other spots around town."
"Well, nice to meet you, Sam," I said, feeling like Alice must have when she found herself in a conversation with a white rabbit and a deck of playing cards.
"I coulda told 'em long before pretty boy spotted you that you were special. In fact, it was looking at me that got you noticed by him. He was gonna stop and say hello to me, but you were doing a big double take as you passed by. So, anyway, doll, what's it gonna be? You joinin' us?"
"I don't know yet. I have to think about it." Then I realized that I was standing on the sidewalk having a conversation with a gargoyle. "Uh, Sam, what do people see when I'm standing here talking to you?"
"Don't worry, babe, since I'm interactin' with you, you're safe inside my 'don't notice me' field. Unless, of course, someone like you happens along."
"That's good to know," I said, nodding. "Well, Sam, it was nice meeting you. I suppose I'll see you around town, even if I don't take the job."
"Oh, you'll take it, all right. I can tell."
I wished I was that certain, but I wasn't sure that someone who had conversations with stone gargoyles should be allowed to make potentially life-altering decisions.
I knew this would get a lot easier if I'd just wake up. Otherwise, I was sure I'd be late for my job interview. Unfortunately, I showed no signs of waking. On those nights when I dreamed worst-case scenarios and bizarre twists on the next day's big events, I usually woke every half hour to look at the clock and make sure I wasn't oversleeping, but if I was still asleep, I was resting better than usual.
That meant this must be real. For a change, I wished I could walk home. I needed the thinking time. And, to be perfectly honest, I wanted the chance to look at New York with the knowledge I'd just gained. I wanted another look at all the weird stuff that had been bothering me all along. I didn't have to worry about the Grace Church sometime-gargoyle anymore, now that I'd met him, but I was sure there were other things I'd tried to excuse in my head that should now make perfect sense.
But there was no way I was walking home in my good shoes. If I didn't ruin them, I'd ruin my feet. I caught the M103 bus on Park Row. It would cost just as much as the subway, but it offered some of the same mental transition benefits as walking. I got off the bus at Fourteenth Street and headed home. Glancing at my watch as I entered the building, I was surprised to find that it was just past noon. I'd felt like I was in that conference room all day, but it had been little more than an hour.
It felt weird being at home alone during the day, but I was too restless to sit around the apartment. I changed into jeans, tennis shoes, and a sweatshirt, then went downstairs and headed over to Union Square. The market in the heart of the city made me homesick at times, but it also felt like a reassuring piece of home. I could talk to the farmers who sold their produce there and actually sound like I knew what I was talking about. This, I knew, was real, and the only magic involved was the miracle that
turned sun, water, seed, and soil into fruits and vegetables. I'd never been there on a weekday before, and I noticed that the market was smaller than usual, without any of the vendors I knew. I picked up a few things I could turn into dinner that night, some apples for a pie, and a small bunch of flowers to brighten up the apartment.
Today the market had made me homesick. I'd consulted my family on every major decision I'd made in my life, but this was one decision I had to make by myself. My parents had been opposed to me going to New York, trying first guilt and then scare tactics to change my mind. But even if I hadn't ultimately gone along with their advice, I had consulted them. I couldn't begin to imagine what they'd say if I told them I'd been offered a job at Magic, Inc.
Then again, they'd never had a conversation with a gargoyle, so what advice could they offer?
I went home, opened the windows, put some music on, and sat down at the kitchen table to peel apples while I thought about everything that had happened this week. It was easier to think about magic while doing something so mundane.
My parents were far enough away that I could get away with just telling them I'd changed jobs, but what about my roommates? They'd expect to be in on the decision. They'd helped me find my current job, and they were constantly on the lookout for something better for me. I'd mentioned Rod's e-mails to them. They were going to think I was stark raving insane.
Or would they? I might have been tempted to tell them about all the magic stuff if Rod hadn't already warned me that it had to be a secret. They were pretty open-minded. They might actually believe it. Or else they'd ship me back home for medical help. I wished I could find a way to get their input on the decision, though.
Sharing the burden would make it easier on me.
My pie was just coming out of the oven when Gemma got home. "Don't tell me you spent your day off cooking," she said.
"Not the whole day. But they had some gorgeous apples at the market, and I couldn't resist."
"I thought the market was closed Thursdays."
A shiver went down my spine as I remembered that the vendors had been different.
Did that mean it was a magic market? It would be just my luck if the place I went to ground myself turned out to be magical. This new job was looking more and more inevitable. "Oh, it was just a sidewalk vendor," I said, hoping my voice didn't sound as shaky as it felt.
Gemma didn't seem to notice anything odd about the way I was acting. "It smells like heaven," she said, opening the oven door and taking a whiff.
"It should be ready to eat about the time Marcia gets here."
She put on the teakettle, then sat down at the kitchen table. "What else did you do today?"
I hated lying to her, but this wasn't my secret to share. I wasn't even ready to talk about changing jobs. "Oh, I mostly just took it easy and walked around. I really did try to use this as a de-stress day."
Marcia came home a few minutes later. "Mmm, something smells..."
"Katie baked a pie," Gemma said.
Soon, we were sitting around the table together, chatting about life in general while eating apple pie. I felt the years of friendship surrounding me like a warm blanket, and I wondered if maybe I should share some of what was going on. It might make the decision easier.
To be honest, though, I knew what I wanted to do. I wanted to give this a try, to leam all about magic. I wanted to be valuable to a wizard who was capable of making incredible things happen with a wave of his hand. I wanted to get away from Mimi. It was a no-brainer, really.
But I also knew I was getting carried away with the idea and needed to get back to reality before I could decide for sure. One more day in the office, I told myself.
Then a normal weekend. Maybe a little research to see if what I knew of the story checked out. And then I could decide with a clear head.
Or else I'd wake up in the loony bin.
five
Going back to work the next morning was one of the most difficult things I'd ever done. It was astounding how different I'd felt during my day off. Even with that huge decision hanging over my head, I'd felt lighter. But today the weight was back on my shoulders as I trudged down Broadway.
I was granted a minor reprieve in that Mimi wasn't at the office yet when I got there. I answered the expected inquiries from my coworkers about my health and only then remembered that I was supposed to have been sick. Tha
t gave me enough warning to look weak and to throw in the occasional cough when Mimi got there. She tended to be suspicious of people who took sick leave, along with people who suddenly wore interview-appropriate clothes. It never seemed to dawn on her that she wouldn't
have to worry about losing her staff if she wasn't such a bitch.
And speak of the devil, I heard her coming down the hallway, already complaining about something. I tried to look diligent at my desk and hoped she passed me by.
No such luck. "Oh, you're back," she purred as she paused in front of my cubicle door. "Feeling better?" Her tone implied that she thought my illness was fake. The fact that it was didn't make me like it any more.
I gave her a weak smile. "Yes, thank you." I punctuated it with a little cough before turning back to my computer.
But that was only her opening act. She called me to her office every five minutes, loading me with enough work that someone who really had been sick would be sure to collapse under the weight. I wasn't holding up too well as it was. "You have a lot to make up for," Mimi chirped as she handed me the most recent stack of documents to sort and staple. I restrained myself from asking why she hadn't had the copier collate the stack because I knew her answer would be that if I had been there the day before, I could have handled the copying myself.
I spent the afternoon in the conference room putting together copies of multipage reports for a board meeting. I'd almost finished, incurring multiple paper cuts in the process, when Mimi came into the room. "What are you doing?" she asked.
It took all the patience I could muster to say "I'm putting together the reports, like you asked me to."
In that instant she turned into Evil Mimi, complete with glowing eyes. I wondered if she really was a monster, but then I, of all people, would see her monster form when she changed. No, she was just a nasty human. "I made a major change an hour ago, and now you don't have time to get the right reports ready in time for the meeting."
There was no point in telling her that if she'd told me she changed the report, I would have had time. Human logic didn't apply to her. I was supposed to read her mind and pick up the new version just as she made it. I was tempted to tell her I was incapable of reading minds or doing any other magic tricks, so she'd just have to communicate with me the normal way.
Then again, why not? I already had the next job lined up, and as long as they paid me a living wage, it had to be better than this. I stared her down. "Mimi, I am sick of you blaming your lack of organization on me. Why didn't you give me the report when you changed it? How was I supposed to know you'd changed it if you didn't tell me? I can't read your mind—really. Believe it or not, I don't have ESE I don't have a shred of magical talent in me, and I've actually had that verified. There is no way I can win with you, and I'm sick of trying. I quit. Staple your own damn report."
And with that I put the stapler down on the conference table and walked out. She didn't say a word. Either she was shocked that her meek little assistant had finally stood up to her, or a blood vessel in her brain had exploded and she was having a stroke.
It must have been the former, because I heard her behind me even before I got to my cubicle. "You can't quit," she said.
"Watch me," I replied. "Just give me a second to write up a formal letter of resignation. I could give the standard two weeks notice, but I think we'd both agree that it's better if I don't. If I'm this saucy now, just think what I'd be like if you couldn't fire me because I'd already resigned."
"That report—the new version—had better be copied, stapled, and on my desk before you leave today or you're fired."
"You're not paying attention, are you? I already quit."
She stalked back to her office. The prairie dog heads were once again in evidence, shocked faces peering above cubicle walls. I sat down at my desk, found Rod's business card and dialed his number. While I waited for an answer, I typed a two-line letter of resignation. I couldn't remember the last time I'd felt this good.
When Rod answered, I said simply, "It's Katie. Let's talk turkey."
"So you are interested? I thought you were going to take the weekend to think it over."
"It didn't take a weekend."
Smooth operator that he was, it didn't take him long to recover and get right to business. "Okay, here's the package we have to offer you. Everything is, of course, negotiable." He named a salary figure that made my head spin. It wasn't astronomically high, but it meant I wouldn't have to be so careful about my pennies anymore. I might even be able to afford to buy my friends some rounds of drinks, to make up for all those they'd bought me. "Full medical and dental. We do have on-site healers, but they might not be effective on you. We offer a full pension plan, as well as life insurance. Ten days sick leave per year, and you accumulate a day of vacation per month, which you can start taking after six months of service. Is there anything you'd like to negotiate?"
It all sounded good to me, and better than what I currently had, but I didn't want to sound so desperate that I'd agree right away. I tried to think of something to ask for, then had a brainstorm. "I want a monthly unlimited MetroCard, provided by the company. And if I have to work late at night, I want a company-provided cab ride home."
"Sounds reasonable to me, and I suspect we can do better than a cab ride." I could only begin to imagine what that company might use for transportation. I had a mental image of arriving home from work in Cinderella's pumpkin coach. "So, do we have a deal?"
"We have a deal."
"Glad to have you aboard. Now, when do you want to start?"
"How's Monday?"
"So soon?"
"I, urn, already resigned from my current job." I figured it was safe to tell him, now that I'd officially accepted.
He laughed. "That bad, huh?"
"You have no idea."
"Why don't you take Monday to rest and recharge, and we'll make it Tuesday? You should have some transition time."
That sounded reasonable to me. "Okay, Tuesday it is."
"We'll see you then. Welcome aboard."
It was only after I hung up that I thought of one more thing I should have asked for: having Mimi turned into a frog. It wasn't even like they'd have to change that much.
Oh well. It didn't matter so much as long as I'd no longer have to deal with her. I printed my resignation letter, retrieved it from the printer, signed it, and dropped it on Mimi's desk.
She looked at it, then up at me. "You're serious?"
"As a funeral."
"What will you do?" She almost sounded concerned, but I suspected she was more worried about not having an assistant than about me ending up on the streets.
"I've already got another job, paying a thousand dollars a month more than this one, and with better benefits. Now, my office is fairly well organized, so you should be able to find everything you need. I don't have any projects pending, other than that report you didn't give me in time." I undipped my employee ID badge and handed it over, along with my office key. "So, anyway, have fun!"
Applause came from somewhere in the office as I walked back to my cubicle to collect my belongings, but it died down pretty quickly. Those left behind couldn't afford to further antagonize the monster.
I didn't have many personal items in my cube, so all I had to do was put my coffee mug and Dilbert calendar in my briefcase, then grab my purse and go. I had a sense of what the fairies must feel like as I walked out of that building for the last time, for my feet didn't seem to touch the ground. I hadn't realized how badly that job had worn me down.
Ironically, although I would now be earning a larger salary and had just negotiated unlimited use of the public transportation system as part of my compensation, I chose to walk home. It was hard to feel weightless on the subway, and I was enjoying the feeling. The only thing I had to worry about now was explaining things to Gemma and Marcia.
They wouldn't be at all surprised or upset that I'd quit my job. There had been many times over the past year
when they'd even offered to cover my share of the rent for a month or so until I could find a new job if I needed to quit immediately for my own sanity, but I couldn't bring myself to accept their charity after they'd already given me a free ride for my first month in the city. But explaining to them that I had met with and accepted a job from the guy I'd been complaining about would be more difficult. Given Rod's apparent propensity for popping up around town, I knew I'd better tell at least a version of the truth.
By the time I reached Houston Street, I had a plan. I'd just say that he'd followed up after the uncomfortable encounter at the cafe with an apology and a much more professional job offer, one I'd considered worth exploring. The next challenge would be explaining what kind of company it was and what my job would be. I wondered if MSI had a standard cover story they gave their nonmagical employees. I supposed I could just say it was another admin position but with more responsibility, and I could try to remember the way Owen described the company in that first meeting, which seemed like it had happened at least a year ago. So much had changed since then.
This time I didn't veer off before Grace Church. Now that I knew the gargoyle was supposed to come and go, it wasn't nearly as disturbing. I think part of me also wanted to see if he'd be there, to see if it had all been real. Or had I just quit my job for nothing?
No, there was a gargoyle perched on the chapel roof. As I approached, he waved a wing at me. "Hey doll, welcome to the club."
I stepped into the churchyard and craned my neck to look up at him. "Hi, Sam. And thanks. I'm looking forward to it. I think."
"Oh, don't worry about it. You'll do great. They're good people, and they need you, so they'll treat you right. You picked a good time to join, too. Things are about to get interesting."
"Interesting?" I asked, the nervousness returning.
"Oh, it's always interesting, but with the big boss back from retirement, this is a particularly good time."
I wondered if he meant that distinguished gentleman who had been at the interview, but I decided to wait and learn the ropes at the office rather than quizzing a gargoyle.
Enchanted, Inc Page 6
