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Page 40
Page 40
"This is the way it's been done for years. I think we'd know if there were a better idea." She punctuated her sentence by shoving the door to our office open. Okay, then, maybe she wasn't open to filling the suggestion box as a way of getting executive attention.
I wanted to continue reading the books Owen had sent me, but I didn't think it would be a good idea to take books that treated magic as reality home, so I put them in a desk drawer for the night and wearily gathered my purse and briefcase to head home. The others— except for Kim, of course—were out the door the instant it hit five, a moment punctuated by a bell. Kim stayed around looking busy, but I couldn't imagine what she could be doing. I didn't worry about it. I just wanted to get home and process this day. I also wasn't sure I could get to the front door without following someone, so I hurried to keep the others in sight.
My way out of the building became easier when I ran into Rod. This time I forced myself to pay attention to each turn along the way so I wouldn't feel so lost.
"How'd the first day go?" he asked.
I hesitated, then decided there was no benefit to anyone in telling a white lie. "We need to talk. You've got a serious issue in that department. "
He blinked in surprise. "Gregor never said anything."
"You think he would?"
"Well, no, I guess not." We reached the front door. "Come by my office tomorrow, and we'll talk."
These people might have had the powers of the universe at their disposal, but they didn't seem to know a lot about business. Now that I thought about it, it made sense.
After all, it wasn't like they could just call in a corporate consulting firm to help them establish more effective practices. Magic and MBAs don't seem to go together. I had a vivid mental image of a group of consultants checking themselves into rehab because they thought their latest client had told them their business was magic. Not to mention the fact that when you can work your will with a flip of the wrist, efficiency becomes meaningless. These people were way too used to taking the easy way. They could stand to listen to someone who was stuck with the hard way.
I might be able to contribute more in that area than in being able to see what was really going on. They trusted my word enough to listen when I pointed out that something they didn't see was really there. Maybe they'd trust me to tell them about other things I saw that they didn't. The thought made me feel marginally better about my new job.
The sky was threatening rain, and I had that shiny new MetroCard in my purse, so I started to head for the subway. Then I remembered the warning from Prophets and Lost and hesitated. Was the problem with the subway, or was there some reason I was supposed to be on the bus?
Just then the M103 pulled to a stop almost in front of me. It seemed to be a pretty good sign, so I climbed on board.
eight
Before the bus could get going, it lurched back to a stop and the doors opened. An out-of-breath Owen thanked the driver as he climbed on board, although I suspected the driver had nothing to do with the bus waiting for him. Owen saw me, smiled—more with relief than with greeting—and dropped into the seat next to me.
A series of little shivers ran up and down my spine, but not because of his proximity, even if he did look especially cute with his hair all rumpled and windblown. Taking into account what I'd seen of Owen's abilities and the fact that he usually seemed to take the subway, along with the warning I'd been given, there was a pretty good chance that a disaster was ensuing below the streets of Manhattan.
"How was the first day?" Owen asked, turning only a little bit pink.
"Kind of weird," I admitted. I didn't want to get into the specifics of the weirdness on a city bus, even though it wouldn't necessarily be the strangest conversation ever held on one.
"I can imagine," he said with a knowing nod.
"Oddly enough, I think the verification department was the weirdest group of people I've met in the entire company."
He nodded again. "That's been an ongoing problem. Unfortunately, people of that nature seem to be affected that way." He appeared to be measuring his words for public consumption as well. "That's what makes you so special. You're not like the others." He turned pinker and suddenly took great interest in inspecting his watch.
I gave him a moment or two to collect himself, then said, "Thanks for the books, by the way. I think they'll be helpful."
"If you need anything else, just ask." It didn't sound like the kind of flippant, insincere offer you usually hear from new coworkers. He sounded deeply sincere, and he held my gaze with those deep, dark blue eyes of his until I almost forgot what we'd been talking about. I got the impression that he truly meant it, that I could call him at any time and he'd come rushing to my rescue. It was kind of cool to have a friend with superpowers, even if he did seem more like Clark Kent than Superman.