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Marco wasn't easily intimidated. In fact, he looked bored. "Yeah, so?"
"So, it violates every ethical standard our people live by."
"Hey, man, I don't make judgments. I just sell what the people want."
"And how badly do the people want it?"
"We've sold a few. Not so much lately. Word's out it doesn't work so well."
"Does that mean you knowingly sell shoddy merchandise?"
Marco shrugged. "Caveat emptor."
"Word gets out you're selling bad stuff, and soon no one is buying any stuff from you."
"I'm just the distributor."
"We could find another distributor in this area. You aren't making a lot of sales for us."
"And that means I'm not selling enough to miss you if you go. You're gonna have to shake things up to make my customers happy. This whole
make-the-world-a-better-place routine is stale."
"I can think of one very quick, very easy way to improve the world," Selwyn said, with a layer of iron under his casual tone.
Marco snorted. "Yeah, like the good guys would do that."
"We have before. You've been around long enough to remember that. When it all comes down, you'll want to be on the right side." I wasn't sure what he meant, but Marco seemed to. He paled, but kept his defiant stance.
Selwyn gestured to me, and we left the store. "Fortunately, he's in the minority," he said as we climbed back on the flying carpet. "We'll need to keep an eye on shops like that. It looks like that's the primary distribution point."
"But it's good to hear sales aren't going so well."
"Just as long as he doesn't fix the bugs. If he gets it to work, we're in trouble."
fourteen
I got to work the next morning—after a rare subway ride without Owen at my side—to find an e-mail notifying me of a meeting in Merlin's office. I hurried upstairs. Owen was already there, looking shattered and uncharacteristically unkempt, his clothes wrinkled, his hair mussed, and a dark shadow on his jaw. I thought I recognized his tie from the day before. In a strange, almost disturbing way, that look was very appealing on him. Gemma needed to find me a prospect soon to jolt me out of this crazy crush.
"So, that's why you weren't on the subway," I remarked, trying not to pant or drool as I took a seat at Merlin's conference table.
He rubbed his eyes. "Yeah, I was here all night, working on a counterspell."
Mr. Hartwell and Gregor then joined us, along with a gnome I didn't recognize. He was introduced to me as Dortmund, head of Corporate Accounting.
Merlin had just taken his seat at the table when a plump woman bustled in. "Sorry I'm late," she said. "Guess I should have seen that delay coming, huh?" She turned to me and said, "Katie, I don't believe we've met. I'm Minerva Felps, head of P and L."
She wasn't what I expected of a seer. I was thinking more of a mysterious Gypsy woman like the fortune-teller at the county fair, or maybe someone ethereal and vague. But she looked more like a busybody aunt who made it a point to know everyone's business. Then again, I suppose that was basically her job.
Merlin called the meeting to order. He seemed to fit in this place and time better than the last time I'd seen him. He was losing a little of his lost quality. "Given that it's been a month since we started more specifically addressing the possible threat from our new competition, I felt it was an opportune time to regroup and see where we stand. Mr. Hartwell?"
"Sales are doing well, better than before we started Miss Chandler's marketing campaign. I don't know how it's affecting our competition's sales, but our bottom line is only being affected in a good way. We've seen a few of the competing products in stores where we have accounts, but none in any of our key accounts.
They're mostly in out-of-the-way places that most proper magic folk wouldn't frequent."
"We're getting positive feedback from the store owners," I added. "Whether or not it directly addresses the threat, it might be good to keep the marketing campaign going.
It certainly seems to have helped keep those spells out of the mainstream."
