Enchanted, Inc. (Enchanted, Inc. #1)

Enchanted, Inc. (Enchanted, Inc. #1) Page 68

"One of those image checkers might be helpful in my line of work, for comparing what really is there against the illusion," I said, when I realized I'd been silent too long.

"We've tried, but haven't had much luck getting it to work. There's something about the mirror image that's distorting when it comes to in-depth image versus reality comparisons."

"Still, I'd like to get one and tinker with it."

"I'll requisition one for you." He put his mirror back in its drawer and sat behind his desk. "Now, what was it you came to see me about?"

I'd almost forgotten. What with talking to Isabel about a girls' night out, getting an illusion cast on my bruise, and seeing Rod's illusion, my anger had faded. But as soon as I thought about it, it came rushing back. "It wouldn't hurt for you to use a little discretion when dealing with Gregor. He went all ogre on me, and he was seriously ticked that I'd gone behind his back."

Rod winced. "Sorry about that. I keep forgetting that he's masking his anger issues, and I can't get a verifier into any meetings I have with him without having to talk to him in from of his staff. In the future I'll borrow a verifier from monitoring. He seemed perfectly fine when I was talking to him."

"Well, I just got an earful, complete with fangs. I don't want to sound like a diva, but I'm not sure I can keep going back in there. I like it here, really, and I can see where what we're doing—what I'm doing—is important. But I don't want to dread this place."

"Don't worry, you won't have to go back there—not as a permanent office location.

You'll still need to report in from time to time. We decided to use your idea and spread verifiers out to keep an eye out for intruders. You'll be officing in R and D."

That made me feel better. I even felt kind of mean for having been so angry. "That should be a nice change of pace," I said.

"You'll report to Verification in the morning. It'll be best for Gregor to be the one to send you up to Rand D. Pretend to be surprised."

I smiled. "Don't worry. It'll be an Oscar-winning performance. I'll try not to jump up and down with glee when he gives me the news."

"I'd appreciate that."

I put on my jacket, gathered my purse and tote bag, and went into the outer office.

"See you tomorrow," Isabel said. "We'll meet here after work."

"Okay, see you then."

I looked around for Owen when I got to the subway station, but he wasn't there. I was surprised how much I missed him. I hadn't admitted it to myself, but the sight of him on the subway platform gave me a thrill every time. It looked like I'd developed myself a nice little crush. A pointless crush, from what I could tell.

It was my night to cook, so I changed into jeans and a sweatshirt when I got home and headed to the kitchen to think of something interesting to do with hamburger meat. I was stirring a simple meat and tomato sauce and trying very hard not to daydream about Owen when Gemma came home.

"Mmm, something smells good," she said. Then she took a second look at me and frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Wrong?" I wondered if Rod's illusion had slipped or gone horribly askew. I didn't look like I had leprous lesions coming off my forehead, did I?

"I don't know. You look worried. Don't tell me you've got job problems already."

I decided against sharing my adventures with armed robbery. If I told that story the day after telling about stopping an intruder, my friends would think I didn't have a job at all, that I just spent my days on a park bench, then came home and made up wild, imaginative stories about what went on at work. Besides, there was no way I could think of to explain how we'd dealt with the robbery without bringing up magic and Merlin. "No, no job problems. Everything's going fine at work."

"Good, because that's Marcia's department. Man problems?"

"No."

"Yep, definitely man problems. That, I can handle. Just let me change clothes. Pour me some wine, could you?"

"Sure." I poured two glasses of wine and gave my sauce a stir. She came back a few minutes later dressed in low-slung yoga pants and a cropped sweatshirt.

"So, what's the deal, someone at the new job?" she asked as she sat at the dining table and took a sip of wine. I turned the burner down on the stove and joined her.

"That's what I've been trying to figure out." I suddenly felt like we were back in school, discussing the guys from our classes. "There's a guy at work I've been thinking about a lot since I met him."