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I had to remind myself to look unhappy as I made my way out of the building. “Hey, what’s wrong, doll?” a voice from the awning over the entrance said. I looked up to see Sam staring down at me in concern.
I wasn’t sure whether Merlin had clued him into the scheme, but since we were in public, I had no choice but to play along. “Oh, just a bad day, I guess,” I said with a shrug. “Everything conspiring to go wrong, all at once.”
“What, they don’t properly appreciate you?”
“Doesn’t look that way. But I’ll live. Tomorrow’s sure to be better.”
When he didn’t repeat the standing joke—that I wasn’t entirely sure was a joke—that there was always room for me in Security, I was pretty sure he was in on it. Having a viable option would have ruined the illusion that I had absolutely nowhere else to turn.
“It’s bound to look up,” he said.
The next day, people in Sales were a little nicer to me, like they were making an effort, and there was even a small bakery box of cookies left on my desk. I tried not to groan out loud when I saw it. If people insisted on being nice to me, it would ruin everything. It’s hard to dramatically quit your job in a fit of pique when people leave cookies for you, and these were the good kind, too—from one of those fancy gourmet bakeries. Just having the box in my office made it smell like fresh-baked cookies.
I sat at my desk and picked up the box, looking for some indication of who’d sent it. Was it a peace offering from Owen? An apology from Mr. Hartwell? There was a card tucked in the ribbon that bound the box, and I slipped it out.
The card was identical to the one the mysterious recruiter had given me. Sending gifts was upping the ante, and doing so to my office was particularly bold.
I got up and went out to Perdita’s office. “Did you see who brought the cookies that were left on my desk?”
“You got cookies? That explains the smell. I thought maybe someone had a scented candle burning around here.”
“You didn’t see anyone come in and leave anything?”
“Nope. I think the place already smelled like cookies when I got here.” She paused, then gave me a sheepish grin. “I don’t suppose you’re willing to share.”
I handed the box to her. As good as they smelled, I’d suddenly lost my appetite. This might have been what I wanted, but while I knew I was likely being watched, it was unsettling to have proof of just how closely I was being observed. It was also proof that someone in Sales had to be a Collegium agent in order to get in and put something on my desk without anyone noticing anything odd.
No one in Sales gave me any reason to get upset that day, which I thought might help make things more realistic. My first opportunity for real conflict came at the end of the day, when I went to meet Owen for the dinner we’d planned. Or, really, pretended to plan, since I already knew it wasn’t going to happen.
As usual, Owen was busy working when I stopped by his lab. “Ready for dinner?” I called out cheerfully.
He looked up at me, blinking. “Dinner?”
“You know, that meal you eat in the evening, after work? You said we’d have dinner today, since we have some things we need to work on for the wedding.”
He turned pink, and I hoped that none of the other R&D people who were present could read him as well as I could because it was obvious to me that he was lying. If he tried to play poker, he’d end up living in a cardboard box, even as wealthy as he was. “Did I? Oh, I guess I did. Sorry, I forgot. Can we do it some other time? I’ve got a working group going on, so I can’t just leave.”
I glanced at the other people, who all were glancing back and forth between Owen and me. Owen might not have been a good liar, but he’d set things up well in making sure there were witnesses, including the one person in R&D we’d identified as being possibly linked to the Collegium.
That meant I had to play this well. “You forgot?” I said, letting my voice get a little shrill. “Really? You just forgot your fiancée? Now I’m worried about the wedding. If you can’t remember to schedule time to plan it, are you going to be here tinkering with some spell while I’m wearing a white dress and veil and wondering where the hell you are?”
He flinched and turned redder. “Of course not. But this wasn’t a wedding. It was just dinner, and it would be rude to bail on all these other people. If it was just me, I could drop things, but I can’t. So how about tomorrow? For real? I’ll put it in my calendar right now.”
“Okay, tomorrow,” I said through gritted teeth. “But I won’t hold my breath.” I whirled and stalked out of the lab before I could dissolve into giggles. I felt like an actress on a particularly bad soap opera, playing minor conflict as though it was Shakespearean drama.
*
When I got to work the following morning—late, because I figured it was a way to demonstrate unhappiness at work—Perdita was already at her desk. “Someone sent you flowers,” she said. “They smell good, but not as good as the cookies. I wonder who they’re from.”
“Owen and I had a big fight yesterday, so maybe this is his way of apologizing,” I said.
The flowers turned out to be a large bouquet of white roses. I knew there was supposed to be some kind of symbolism in that, but I couldn’t remember exactly what. At this time of year, they either had to be imported or from a hothouse, and the scent was pretty strong.
I didn’t really believe Owen had sent them because that would go against the act. I had a sinking feeling I already knew what I’d find when I opened the little envelope attached to the bouquet. Yep, another one of those business cards. It was a sign that the plan was working, but it was still kind of creepy to think that some secret organization knew that much about what was going on in my life. I thought this was pretty good proof that I wasn’t being recruited to some magical finance company. Why would a bank know what was going on within MSI?
Midafternoon, Perdita called out, “You need to go see the boss.”
I came out of my office. “Did they say why?”
