Chapter 7
Chapter
Seven
The ride to work was blessedly uneventful. Cecil sat silently in the front seat, occasionally barfing into the bucket he had propped between his paws.
“I told you chocolate was toxic to dogs,” I said. “You shouldn’t have eaten all those cookies.”
“I’m a Labrador,” he moaned. “They have a chocolate variety. I’m golden, but I figured it was close enough. I thought it would be fine.”
“Chocolate refers to the color of the lab, not the diet of the lab, you ignoramus. Why can’t you just style yourself to fix your gut?”
“Damned spoil restrictions. Once I’m in a certain form, I can’t make alterations. No bigger, no smaller, no new guts.”
“Is that why Drunk Baby Cecil couldn’t get rid of his hangover?”
“Bingo.” He retched into the bucket. “Bingo was his name-oh. Jesus, Chosen.”
I checked my watch. Eight forty-five. I’d lost my entire time advantage, and I’d be hitting the floor along with the rest of the masses.
I steered the Audi into the underground parking garage in our building—a tiny three-story half-floor underground cavern where each little space cost more in rent than a three-bedroom house out in the suburbs—and got out.
Cecil shook out his fur and climbed out, trotting next to me towards the stairs.
We popped out in the gleaming nineties-style black atrium.
I walked briskly past the security desk, waving to the guard as I trotted by. “Morning, Luis.”
“Hey, Sue!”
“How’s your little girl doing?”
“Ah, dios mio, that girl has turned a corner!” Luis’s smile almost split his face in two.
“She still screams like a banshee, but at least she’s kinda sleeping at night.
Four hours, then wakes up, bloodcurdling screams for a few minutes until she realizes that Gloria is trying to stick a boob in her mouth.
Then she fills her tummy and goes back to sleep for another four hours. ”
“That sounds heavenly.” I managed to keep the sarcasm out of my voice.
“Oh, she’s bliss.”
I tapped my security pass on the reader. It went red and gave a strangled honk. I frowned and tapped again. “Huh.”
Cecil trotted forward, sniffed the turnstile, and lifted his leg.
“What’s up, Sue?” Luis called out.
“My card isn't working.”
“No?” Luis wandered out from behind the desk and gave the turnstile a little kick. “Don’t worry about it, Sue. I’ll sign you in. Go get HR to sort your card out.”
My tummy gave a little happy flutter as I took the visitor’s security pass out of his hands, and he buzzed me through. “Thanks, Luis!”
We headed to the elevators. “You’ve had a face like thunder all morning.” Cecil eyed me suspiciously. “Why are you suddenly looking so happy?”
I pressed the button for the elevator. It dinged, the doors opened, and we got in. “It’s a mundane problem.” I grinned down at him. “My security pass has been canceled. I have a mundane problem to fix, and I’m freaking happy about solving it.”
He frowned up at me. “You are so weird.”
“You don’t get it.” Suddenly, I understood my mood better.
“I need balance in my life, Cecil. It’s why I felt compelled to come to work today.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m more than happy to step up to the plate and solve giant, apocalypse-level magical problems if I have to, but I also need to solve little unmagical problems, too. ”
“I’ll say it again.” Cecil looked unimpressed. “You are weird.”
“Maybe I am.” It wasn’t exactly the reason why I was feeling strange about closing any more spark stones, but it was a small part of it.
I never wanted to think that solving a little problem wasn’t worthwhile.
Helping Thomas in my old team apply for long-term vacation leave was just as important as closing the brethren spark stone.
Adjusting the rosters so Owen and Stacey could work the same shifts was just as much of a priority as meeting with the vampire Ancients tonight.
Hopefully Owen and Stacey were still secretly dating. I should probably check that before I signed off the rosters.
My brain buzzed happily, considering the many reasons why my security pass might have been canceled. “Actually, I might need backup for this,” I said, digging out my phone.
We stopped at several floors, which was unusual for me.
Normally I came in well before the masses and left long after everyone else had gone home, but today, I’d hit the office with the rest of the nine-to-fivers.
Cecil was forced to remain silent for most of the journey up to the office.
Although he did growl at two perky women from the property manager’s office who tried to pet him.
Finally, I reached my floor, bang at nine o’clock.
I strode into the call center floor and did a quick zip around, saying hello to my old team and the established team leaders of the three other teams. I stopped by and apologized to Gavin and Carol—the two prospective team leaders I was supposed to interview yesterday—and promised to pencil in a time to do quick interviews today.
Both of them seemed a little surprised but happy.
Finally, I headed to my office.
There was someone in there, sitting at my desk. A heavyset woman—with a halo of orange curls, a stub nose, and kitschy thick-rimmed red glasses—was tapping at my desktop computer.
I paused, and my eyes narrowed. Cheryl from Human Resources, last seen accidently admitting to undertaking discriminatory hiring practices on behalf of the company.
I’d threatened her at the time, but I wasn’t foolish enough to think she was going to roll over and do better just because I confronted her.
The ogres of Human Resources rarely did.
I’d gone into battle with so many of their kind over the years; I knew my enemy well. To be fair, they weren’t all the same. There was the odd kind soul, the helpful ones. But the higher-ranking HR bosses were often power-hungry monsters.
I watched as Cheryl tapped away on my keyboard, peering at the screen. She was going through my computer.
Behind Cheryl stood Yvette, my old boss, the former Call Center Department Manager. She was peering over Cheryl’s shoulder, looking at my computer screen, frowning deeply, her sharp silver bob swinging around her chin as she shook her head.
“What’s going on?” Cecil whispered out of the corner of his mouth. “Why is that bitch in your office?”
“She’s looking for dirt.” Adrenaline flooded through me. This was exactly what I needed. Finally, a battle I understood. A fight I knew I could win. “Looks like Cheryl is making her move. Time to go to war.”
“Actual war?”
“No. Far less bloody, but no less vicious. Office politics war.”
“Oh. Okay, I got you, Chosen.” A tiny gold spark poofed in the air, and I wobbled a fraction.
He’d changed my pumps to stilettos.
I smiled, baring my teeth. “Time for battle.”