Once Upon Stilettos
Page 11
- Background:
- Text Font:
- Text Size:
- Line Height:
- Line Break Height:
- Frame:
“Not at all. I’ll move my laptop out here.”
“Thank you. I don’t seem to recall fairies becoming ill that often, so I do hope it isn’t serious.”
It must have been serious, considering how eager she’d been to hear about my date with Ethan. I made a mental note to ask Ari if she knew anything. I got my computer from my office, then settled in at Trix’s desk.
Merlin went back to his office, returning moments later with his calendar. “I have a meeting this morning at ten, very important. Amalgamated Neuromancy is open to joining us for the fight against Phelan Idris and his upstart venture, but there are some details we need to discuss.”
I made a note on the desktop calendar. “Will you need me for that?” In addition to being Merlin’s executive assistant, I was also his personal verifier, ensuring no magical cheats or shortcuts were used against him.
“No, that won’t be necessary.” His eyes twinkled. “I intend to apply some personal persuasive techniques against their chief executive, so it would be best if there are no outsiders present.”
I couldn’t help but grin. “Okay, gotcha. I’ll let you know when he arrives.”
“Thank you.” He started to head for his office, then turned back. “By the way, I understand you and Mr. Wainwright went out together Saturday night. How did that go?”
This place was worse than a small town. Even the thousand-plus-year-old boss knew about my dating life. “It was nice. He took me to a wine dinner. Come to think of it, have you heard of the Pegasus Winery? I think they might be magical. It looked to me like they enchanted the guests with magical wine, then tried to cheat them on wine purchases. The way people were acting, it reminded me of that spell Idris was selling, the one Owen was testing.”
“I don’t recall having heard of them, but you should probably ask around. I hope you and Mr. Wainwright put a stop to it.”
“We did. Well, not the enchantment part, since it was too late for that, but we did stop the cheating.”
“Good work. I must admit that I find the news disturbing. If our kind are so willing to use magic for cheating and other lawbreaking, will we truly have the will to stand against what Idris represents? Or will he find an even greater market for his wares than we realized?”
It was a sobering thought. Phelan Idris used to work for MSI, but got fired for developing spells designed to cause harm, an absolute MSI no-no. He went into business for himself to market those harmful spells. We’d put a stop to his first efforts with a little legal maneuvering and a big magical fight, but he was still out there.
Trying to cheer up both Merlin and myself, I said, “But haven’t there always been cheats? Otherwise, why would you need people like me?”
“Cheating among the magical is one thing, and usually done only for amusement and one-upmanship, considering we always get caught. Using the nonmagical for gain is entirely another. Check with Sales and see if that winery uses any of our spells for its business, and let Mr. Palmer know what you observed.”
He went into his office, and I got to work typing memos and reviewing documents for Merlin after sending an e-mail to Sales about the winery. The visitor arrived just before ten, and I escorted him into Merlin’s office. He looked like the kind of person who would need a particularly strong form of persuasion to get him to do something for the general good.
Merlin must have gone straight to work on him, for I had to ignore the occasional odd sound and flash of light that showed through the crack under Merlin’s door once the meeting started. As entirely nonmagical as I was, I could feel the tingle of increased power usage nearby.
I was just considering forwarding Trix’s phone to my office so I could shut the door and tune out whatever was going on in Merlin’s office when Owen came running into the reception area.
“Is he in?” he asked. He normally wasn’t that brusque, so something had to be wrong.
“He’s in a meeting. What is it, Owen?”
“I need to talk to him.”
“He said he wasn’t to be disturbed.” Just then, a particularly loud pop sounded from within the office, accompanied by a flash of light and an odd smell. We both flinched. “No, disturbing him probably isn’t a good idea,” I added.
He nodded. “You may be right, but this is pretty urgent.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I think we’ve got a spy among us.”
“What makes you say that?”
He waved a handful of papers at me. “Because someone’s been into my notes on protective spells. Notes that were locked in a desk drawer, inside my locked office, inside our highly secured R and D department.”