By the time I reached Houston Street, I had a plan. I'd just say that he'd followed up after the uncomfortable encounter at the cafe with an apology and a much more professional job offer, one I'd considered worth exploring. The next challenge would be explaining what kind of company it was and what my job would be. I wondered if MSI had a standard cover story they gave their nonmagical employees. I supposed I could just say it was another admin position but with more responsibility, and I could try to remember the way Owen described the company in that first meeting, which seemed like it had happened at least a year ago. So much had changed since then.
This time I didn't veer off before Grace Church. Now that I knew the gargoyle was supposed to come and go, it wasn't nearly as disturbing. I think part of me also wanted to see if he'd be there, to see if it had all been real. Or had I just quit my job for nothing?
No, there was a gargoyle perched on the chapel roof. As I approached, he waved a wing at me. "Hey doll, welcome to the club."
I stepped into the churchyard and craned my neck to look up at him. "Hi, Sam. And thanks. I'm looking forward to it. I think."
"Oh, don't worry about it. You'll do great. They're good people, and they need you, so they'll treat you right. You picked a good time to join, too. Things are about to get interesting."
"Interesting?" I asked, the nervousness returning.
"Oh, it's always interesting, but with the big boss back from retirement, this is a particularly good time."
I wondered if he meant that distinguished gentleman who had been at the interview, but I decided to wait and learn the ropes at the office rather than quizzing a gargoyle.
"It was nice to see you again, Sam," I said, turning to head back out to the street.
"See you Tuesday."
"Not if I see you first."
It was a measure of just how much my life had changed this week that I didn't feel the least bit odd about having a conversation with a gargoyle. It felt a lot less odd than avoiding that stretch of street because the gargoyle was inexplicably coming and going.
When I got home, my roommates were already there, which was unusual, even for a Friday. I knew I'd have to tell them my news right away, or else they'd accuse me of holding out on them when they found out. "You'll never believe what I just did," I said as soon as I got through the front door.
"You quit your job," Gemma said without looking up from her magazine. She sat with her feet out in front of her, cotton between her toes, like she'd just polished her toenails.
I put my purse and briefcase on the dining table and joined her on the sofa, feeling a little limp now that she'd taken the wind out of my sails. "How'd you know?"
"The answering machine was full of messages for you when we got home," Marcia said from the bedroom, sticking a head covered in hot rollers into the living room.
"Your coworkers were worried about you, and Mimi didn't think you were serious.
She wants you to come in over the weekend to finish a project." She disappeared back into the bedroom.
"I put it in writing," I said with a sigh. "I don't know how much more serious I could be."
"You quit, just like that?" Gemma asked.
"Yeah, angry snit and all."
"She finally pushed you too far."
"That, and I already had another job lined up. I'd planned to give notice, but Evil Mimi persuaded me otherwise."
Marcia came into the room, wearing her bathrobe, her hair still in curlers. "What other job?"
I launched into the story I'd concocted about Rod getting back in touch with me and apologizing. "So it turned out it was for real, and it was a good opportunity," I concluded.
"That's why you called in sick yesterday!" Marcia said, sounding like Sherlock Holmes when he's just solved the case. "You were out interviewing. But why didn't you say anything?"
Fortunately, I had a story ready for that, too. "It was a decision I had to make for myself." Even as I said it, I realized it was the truth. "I lean too heavily on you guys to help me figure out what I should do, and I needed to figure this out on my own."
"Well, congratulations," Gemma said. "Now, hurry and get dressed. You're going to be late."
"Late for what?"
"Our big blind date."
My heart sank. "Oh, that." I supposed it was too late to call it off, but I was so drained that all I wanted to do was curl up on the sofa with some ice cream and watch an old movie. But if I'd managed to tell off my boss and stalk out of the office, I could face a blind date. "What should I wear?"
