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"Too hot for you?" Owen asked, then waved his hand, and I felt a puff of cool air sweep past me. Now the coffee was just the right drinking temperature. I would have dropped the mug in shock, but the coffee smelled too good to waste just for the sake of a dramatic gesture.
"I don't suppose you can conjure up some Valium?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
"Does this mean you believe us?" the head honcho asked.
I thought about his question. I knew that the more I considered things, the more excuses I could come up with to explain everything away, but I'd reached the point that any explanation I could come up with would only be hideously complicated, something worthy of Agent Scully. I'd spent my college years yelling at the television and complaining about how someone so supposedly smart could be so dense and insist on disregarding evidence that was so obvious.
The only noncomplicated way I could think of to explain people with fairy wings, the unreasonable attraction of every woman in sight to a man I found repulsive at the time, and the sudden appearance of refreshments out of thin air was that I was the victim of the latest television reality show. There could be hidden cameras recording my reactions. But then I remembered that I'd seen weird stuff from the moment I got to New York. They couldn't have been following me all that time.
No, chances were very good that this was real. "Yeah, I do think I believe you," I said at last. "But where do I fit into all this?"
"It's like Owen said the other day," Rod put in. "We need a reality check. We need someone who can tell us what's really there. Imagine if someone wrote a clause into a contract, then veiled it so we couldn't see it. But you could. If we compare what we see to what you see, we have a better chance of getting to the truth."
"So what you're saying is that my superpower is that I'm totally ordinary and unmagical?"
"That's pretty much it," Rod said with a grin. "What do you think?"
"I don't know yet what to think." Any decision I made in this room, surrounded by strange people and with that red rose on the tray in front of me, was bound to be a bad one. "Can I get back to you?"
"Take all the time you need," the boss said kindly. "I'm sure this has been a lot for you to take in and understand in such a short time. Believe me, I understand."
"I'll get back to you on Monday, after I've had the weekend to consider."
"You have my contact information on my business card," Rod said. "We can set up another meeting to talk specifics. But we'd like to get a firm statement of interest from you before we get into issues like salary and benefits. You'll still be free to turn us down if we can't come to an agreement there, but we'd like to be sure you're joining us because you find the prospect interesting rather than because of the amount of money we'll be throwing your way."
I liked the way the idea of throwing money at me sounded, but I still wanted to think about this. Part of me still wasn't sure I was awake yet. The real job interview that happened when I woke up would involve stuff like filling out long applications that managed to reduce everything on my resume to boring inadequacy.
I thanked the room in general for taking the time to meet with me, then Rod escorted me out and down the stairs. "I'm sorry if that was overwhelming for you. We haven't yet found an easy way to say 'Oh, by the way, magic's real. Do you want a job?'"
"I can imagine," I said. And I could. I couldn't think of a way they could have explained it to me without causing a little bit of a freak-out.
We reached the front door and Rod shook my hand. "Thank you again for coming in and hearing us out. I do hope you choose to join us. We need you, and I think you'd enjoy working here."
The doors swung open and I stepped back into the bustle of lower Manhattan, feeling like I'd moved forward centuries in time. "Hey sweetheart, I take it things went well for you," a voice near me said.
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.
