Shanna Swendson - Enchanted, Inc

"But why me?" I asked after a while. "I'm just so ... so ordinary. There are probably hundreds—thousands, even—of people in this city with exactly the same qualifications. Okay, maybe not who have worked in a feed-and-seed store, but you see what I mean."

"You'd be surprised how rare the truly ordinary is," Owen said softly. It was the kind of thing Yogi Berra would have said, but Owen made it sound profound and mysterious. I squinted at him in confusion, and he continued. "You have a unique perspective, a way of looking at things, that we find valuable."

"Oh, I get it," I said with great relief. "You're looking for a reality check."

His face lit up, and I fell just the least bit in love with him. "Yes! Exactly."

Now everything made a lot more sense. Some big corporation actually wanted my small-town honesty and common sense, instead of looking down on me because I grew up west of the Hudson River. I still wasn't sure how they'd found me in the first place, but I was sure big companies had all the resources they needed to find the right people.

"So, would you like to pursue this further?" Rod asked. "Things can get a little complicated from this point. Our executive team would have to interview you, and of course we'd tell you more about who we are. We would expect some discretion on your pan, in return. We operate out of the public spotlight, so we'd ask that you not discuss our business matters with anyone else."

There was still something just the least bit odd about all of this, but by now I was intrigued. I wanted to know who these people were, and I couldn't resist the idea of working for someone who might actually respect me a little bit, who had made such an effort to recruit me, out of all the people in New York. The more cautious part of my brain warned me that they could be playing to my ego, but curiosity overruled caution. "Sure," I said, hoping my voice didn't shake quite as much as it felt like it did.

He smiled, a real smile instead of a fake one calculated to charm, and for a second he actually looked good, proving that I'd been right about him. A less oily personality and a little effort made a big difference. "Great! If you'll excuse me for a second, I can try to line up the next step."

He got up and went outside, which left me alone with Owen, and the moment the situation turned from business to social, he got shy again and clammed up. We both sipped our cappuccinos in silence, darting little glances at each other. I'd have to get advice from Gemma on how to get a shy guy to relax and speak.

Rod came back inside, and I dabbed at my lips with a napkin, hoping I didn't have a foam mustache. "Is there any way you can get away during the day on Thursday?"

he asked. "That's about the only time I can get together the people who need to meet you."

I didn't want to risk losing this. I wasn't quite sure if I was desperate to escape from Mimi or excited about this job, but I knew I'd do just about anything to pursue the opportunity. "I can take a sick day," I said, then I suddenly worried that being so willing to admit that would dim my image of small-town honesty. "I haven't taken one yet," I hurried to explain. "And if you knew my boss, you'd know they owe me a mental health day or two." Oops, I'd just committed another job interview sin, complaining about my current boss. But they didn't seem to care.

"Great. We're set, then. We'll see you at ten Thursday morning." He handed me a business card that had MSI, Inc. printed on it in Gothic lettering, along with his name and the usual contact information. "The address is on here, but it can be a little hard to find, so let me draw you a map." He took the card back, turned it over, and sketched in a few streets and landmarks. "Just ask for me at the front desk," he said as he handed the card back to me.

I tucked it carefully into my purse as we all stood to leave. Rod was the first to shake my hand. "I'm glad you finally decided to meet with us," he said.

"I figured it was either that or you would have driven me crazy."

"You're not wrong about that," he said, and he wasn't laughing or smiling. "You have no idea how much my bosses want me to get you on board."

Owen came around the table and shook my hand. "I look forward to having you on the team," he said softly, meeting my eyes for the first time, and then immediately blushing from his collar to the roots of his hair. He had the prettiest dark blue eyes, but they didn't do him any good if he didn't let anyone see them. He and Rod made quite a team. Rod acted like he looked like Owen, and Owen acted like he looked like Rod. Maybe there had been a science experiment gone wrong somewhere in their past.

"I'll see y'all on Thursday," I said, so flustered that I forgot not to talk Texan. Then, with my head still spinning, I turned to walk up Broadway toward home, pausing to change into my walking shoes when I was well out of sight of the coffee shop.

This was another occasion when I was glad of the nearly hour-long walk home. I needed to think. For one thing, I needed to find a way to explain to my roommates that I was pursuing that job offer after all, but I figured I'd wait until I had the job sewn up. In the meantime I needed a reason I was getting home so late, but in New York that was easy.

Even Marcia, the workaholic, was home by the time I got there. She and Gemma looked up at me from where they sat on the sofa eating Chinese takeout. "You're home late," Marcia commented. "Bad Mimi day?"

"The worst," I said, kicking off my shoes and dropping my purse and briefcase. "I did some window shopping on the way home to help me recover."

"And you didn't buy anything?" Gemma asked with a raised eyebrow. "I admire your restraint." I refrained from telling her that it was easy to be restrained when you had no money to spend. She patted the sofa cushion next to her. "Take a load off.

We've got plenty of kung pao."

* * *

The next person I had to fool was Mimi, but I knew that shouldn't be too difficult. I didn't wear any makeup the next morning, so I'd look pale and sickly. As I walked into lower Manhattan, I kept an eye out for the building that supposedly housed MSI, Inc. According to Rod's map, it was across from City Hall Park and down a side street.

I tripped over my own feet and had to steady myself against the side of a building when I saw it. It looked like a turreted medieval castle looming over the more Victorian storefronts. Why hadn't I seen that before? I was usually too busy trying to look into the lobby of the Woolworth Building when I walked that stretch of sidewalk, now that I thought about of it.

That whole day at work, I played the "I'm coming down with something" game. I looked as listless as possible, coughed every so often, and made my voice hoarser as the day progressed. By the time the day ended, most of my coworkers were telling me I should stay home the next day. Even Mimi had commented on my illness, but without much sympathy. She seemed more worried that I'd spread the germs to her.

That meant no one would be the least bit suspicious when I called in sick the next morning. As I walked home that evening I wondered if I'd managed to convince myself that I was sick. I had a headache, my legs felt heavy, and every time I heard a subway train pass beneath a sidewalk grating I envied the people who weren't walking. It would be so nice not to have to worry about every little dollar, to be able to ride whenever I felt like it. I reminded myself that they were crammed up close to one another, while I was aboveground, enjoying fresh air and exercise, but this time the mind games weren't very effective. It wasn't that I wanted to have a ride to and from work every day. I just wanted the option without feeling guilty about it. I wanted not to have to keep a running cash register tape in my head so I'd know where every penny went. Rod and Owen hadn't discussed money when talking to me about the job, but if they were recruiting that heavily, there had to be some perks involved. Even a few hundred extra a month would be nice. It would make the difference between getting by and really living.