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.
I didn't have to explain anything to my roommates to keep them from getting suspicious. I just declared that evening that I was going to take a mental health day, and they cheered, saying it was about time. Gemma even commented that I looked tired and needed a break to keep from getting sick. That gave me an excuse to go to bed early.
While Gemma and Marcia watched TV in the living room, I tried to compare the little map on the back of Rod's business card to my stash of New York guidebooks.
You'd think a building as striking as the one I'd seen would be listed, but there was no mention of it. The street it was on didn't appear on any maps I could find. I knew there were all sorts of twisty little side streets in that part of town, mostly from having been lost on them, but I would have thought that all of them would be on the map. That
just made this whole situation even more interesting.
I called in and left a hoarse message on the answering system the next morning before the office opened, then stayed in bed while Gemma and Marcia got ready for work. As soon as they were gone, I printed a few copies of my resume from Marcia's home computer, put on my interview suit, and put my hair up before taking it back down.
They wanted me for my girl-next-door values, so there was no point in giving them a city girl.
This time, I let myself take the subway. I didn't want to have to carry extra shoes, and I didn't want to arrive at the interview tired and sweaty. I got off at City Hall and crossed the park, pausing to flip a penny in the fountain for good luck. Then, following Rod's instructions, I crossed Park Row and headed down a narrow side street that apparently did exist, even if it wasn't on any map. Again I saw what looked like a medieval castle, with an entrance that looked more like it belonged on a cathedral
than on an office building. But the shield on the wall next to the giant wooden doors bore the same logo as Rod's business card, so I knew this must be the place.
There was a gargoyle perched on the portico that sheltered the door, and I could have sworn I saw it wink at me as I gathered my nerves and stepped toward the door. I reached to push the door open, but before I touched it, it swung open on its own.
The interior was dim, most of the light coming through stained-glass windows set high in the walls. Once my eyes adjusted, I saw a security guard seated at a raised desk in the middle of the lobby. Instead of the polyester rent-a-cop uniforms you usually saw on building security guards, he looked like he was wearing royal livery, with the company logo embroidered on his sleeves at the wrists.
I stepped up to the desk and said, "I'm Kathleen Chandler. I have a ten o'clock appointment with Rodney Gwaltney of Personnel."
He ran a thumb down a giant book that lay open on his desk and said, "Ah, yes, Miss Chandler. We've been expecting you." He placed his palm on a crystal ball that sat on his desk and said softly, "Rod, your visitor is here." Now, that was an unusual intercom system. The crystal ball was held by a pewter dragon sculpture that looked like something I'd once seen on sale at a Renaissance festival. The crystal glowed, then the guard looked back at me, smiled, and said, "He'll be with you in a moment."
It didn't take Rod long at all to come down the sweeping staircase at the back of the lobby. "Katie, good to see you," he said. "Right this way." He escorted me toward the stairs, saying as he walked, "Unfortunately, we don't have elevators in this building. I hope you don't mind the stairs."
"My apartment's a walk-up. I think I'll manage," I said as I followed him.
If I'd been intrigued before, now I was downright curious. What kind of company would be based in a building like this? It was a pretty safe bet that I could rule out anything in the high-tech industry. I remembered what Owen had said the other day about predating computers. Something financial, maybe? That wouldn't be out of the ordinary around here. "Curiouser and curiouser," I muttered under my breath.
"What was that?" Rod asked.
"Nothing. Just feeling a bit like Alice."
We'd reached the top of the stairs and now faced a pair of doors almost as impressive as the front doors. "Well, Alice, welcome to Wonderland," he said as the doors swung open.
I'm not sure even Alice would have believed what I saw inside that room.
four
I felt like I'd stumbled into a Broadway-caliber production of Camelot . This was no conference room. It was a great hall, with soaring, Gothic-arched windows—complete with stained-glass crest insets—along one wall, banners hanging from a wood-beamed ceiling, and a giant round table in the middle of the room.
Seated around that table was an example of just about every weird type of person I'd seen in New York—the kind of weird that others didn't seem to notice. There were a few women with fairy wings, several people with pointed elf ears, and some tiny gnomes like the figures I'd seen in parks around town and assumed were a bizarre form of animatronic lawn decor. The gnomes sat on pillows piled high in their chairs so they could reach the conference table, while the fairies floated inches above their seats.
Either the company was celebrating Halloween a month early and I'd interrupted an elaborate costume party, or there was something very, very weird going on. I voted for the latter. While I knew it was possible to strap on a pair of wings or add points to your ears with plastic tips, there was no way a normal person could shrink into a gnome, and these were very clearly living beings, not lawn ornaments.
Mixed in with the freak show were a number of people in ordinary business attire. I recognized Owen, looking particularly handsome in a pin-striped navy suit. He flashed me a smile, then ducked his head and blushed furiously.