Shanna Swendson - Enchanted, Inc

While I'd been lost in shock, my friends were busy chatting flirtatiously with him.

"It's been nice meeting you ladies," he said at last.

"And nice to meet you," Marcia said.

"Thanks for the drinks. That was sweet of you," Gemma added.

He glanced around the table, then looked directly at me as he said, "I hope I'll see you again, soon." Then he left.

As soon as he was gone, they all burst into giggles again. "I think he likes you, Katie," Gemma said. "Maybe we should cancel your date for the weekend. Looks like you're going to be busy."

I still felt sick and too stunned to speak. Connie must have noticed this, for she said,

"Katie, hon, what's wrong?"

"I told you I saw him on the subway this morning, right? Well, he also sent me an e-mail today offering me a job. Three e-mails, come to think of it."

"What kind of job?" Marcia asked.

"I don't know. He didn't say. That's why I was so suspicious and just deleted them.

I thought it was spam, one of those 'great opportunity' things where you can make a fortune working at home. He did say something about knowing my experience and work ethic, but how could he? I'm pretty sure I never saw him before this morning.

And then to run into him again tonight. . ."I shuddered.

The others now looked a lot more serious. "What company was he with?" Marcia asked.

"Something like MSI, Inc."

She shook her head. "Never heard of it."

"You don't think it's a real job offer, do you?"

"I don't know, but I doubt it. Headhunters do contact people out of the blue, and sometimes they're vague about what company they're representing, but they usually tell you how they heard about you, and they usually recruit more in the, um, executive ranks." In other words, they wouldn't be out trying to steal a glorified secretary. "I wonder if this company is a search firm. It is possible that it was someone in your company who recommended you, maybe someone who's accepted another

job but who hasn't given notice yet and who's recommended names of other people to steal."

That was certainly possible. Anyone on the marketing staff at my company could very easily be jumping ship, and they'd be sure to do anything they could to get back at Mimi on their way out, like having her assistant recruited. I liked to think that in spite of the difficult conditions and my unfortunate lack of city sophistication, I'd done a good enough job that my coworkers would be willing to recommend me.

Still, the fact that the guy had shown up tonight made me nervous.

As if echoing my thoughts, Marcia added, "What is weird is that you've been seeing him around town. Recruiters don't usually work that way. They set up meetings rather than ambushing you and your friends with free drinks. And if a coworker recommended you, how did he know what you look like and how to find you away from work? This morning on the subway, was there any way he could have got your name or where you work? Did he follow you out of the subway?"

I shook my head. "No. He got off a few stops before I did."

"You don't have an ID badge or a luggage tag on your briefcase with your business card visible, do you?"

"No. I know better than that."

"Hmm. Weird."

The mood around the table was a lot gloomier than it had been before I confessed to the weirdness, and I hated being the wet blanket, so I said, "Well, if you thought he was hot, you should have seen the other guy who was on the subway this morning."

They pressed me for details, and soon we were back in the swing of an evening out with friends.

* * *

I didn't sleep well that night, as visions of fairies, gargoyles, Mimi, and Rod danced through my head. The sleepless night meant I was out of bed early enough to walk to work, which I hoped diminished my chances of running into the same trio on the subway. I knew that the odds of randomly seeing the same three people on any one subway car were slim, but after yesterday, I wasn't taking any chances.

I sipped from a travel mug of coffee and ate a bagel as I walked and tried to think of what I should do. There wasn't much I could do. It wasn't like I'd respond to that shady job offer. I'd just keep deleting Rod's e-mails. If he continued to show up around me, I supposed I could get a restraining order, but until he was stealing my underwear and sending me threatening letters, I doubted the police would care all that much.

Nope, all I could do was focus my attention on surviving Mimi. Today, I got to work before she did, so I had a chance to catch my breath before I had to deal with her. She must have had a busy night with Werner, as she hadn't left me her usual half-dozen e-mails from home telling me things she needed me to do first thing in the morning. As I'd expected, there was also another message from good old Rodney Gwaltney. I couldn't resist opening it.

This one was addressed to "Katie" instead of "Kathleen." "It was a pleasure to see you again last night and to meet all of your delightful friends," it said. "I know I must have startled you, but please believe that I mean you no harm. Quite the contrary.

My offer is truly one you can't afford to pass up. You are more valuable than you realize. Please contact me at your earliest convenience."

I was tempted to write back and tell him that if his offer was so good and so aboveboard, he shouldn't have a problem telling me what it was. My mama didn't raise any dummies, and even in a small town I'd know better than to contact a strange man who was so vague about his intentions. With a great sense of satisfaction, I hit the delete key.

Since Mimi still wasn't in, I took advantage of the opportunity to check my personal e-mail. There was the message from Gemma about dinner. And there was yet another message from Rodney. I added his address to the spam filter and deleted the message, unread, along with all the messages telling me I could lose weight, increase my breast size, make money at home, grow a bigger penis, buy herbal Viagra without a prescription, and get a lower mortgage rate. If all those messages were true, everyone would be slim, attractive, wealthy love machines. Obviously, that wasn't the case, so odds were, the job offer was no more real than all the other junk mail.

Mimi was her usual charming self when she arrived, meaning that she really was acting charming, and anyone who hadn't seen her evil incarnation would think she was just the coolest boss ever. Maybe ol' Werner had bought some of that herbal Viagra stuff. She remained that way all morning, but the daggers made an appearance at lunchtime.

I was sitting at my desk, trying to salvage one of her memos into something readable by English speakers, when she stuck her head into my cube. "Are you going to lunch?" she asked.

"Not right now, thanks," I said absently, still focusing on my computer screen. "I need to finish this, and I brought a sandwich."

"You know, it wouldn't hurt you to be more sociable around the office. Eating lunch at your desk every day isn't good for office unity. I'd prefer for you to go out with the rest of the staff."

I had to bite my tongue to hold back all of the responses that popped into my head, like telling her that she was the main problem with office unity and that I'd go out to lunch with her at the pricey bistros she preferred when she paid me enough money to be able to afford it. I certainly wasn't going to waste my precious entertainment dollars on socializing with her.

Fortunately this was just one of her drive-by shootings and she didn't seem to want a response. Before I could think of anything to say that wouldn't get me fired on the spot, she was gone. Feeling lower than a snake's belly in a wheel rut, as my grandma used to say, I went back to work on the memo. My one spark of rebellious revenge was to leave a grammatical error. She'd never know the difference— obviously, since she was the one who'd written it—and since it was her name on the memo, anyone who did know the difference would get at least a whiff of incompetence from her.