Free Wishing in the Wings by Mindy Klasky Page A

corners of her lips.
    “You’ve done it?” I croaked. “You granted my wish?” I looked around, half-expecting to find us transported to my dream apartment.
    “Just…one…mo-ment…” Teel said, drawing out the last syllable.
    And then my phone rang. A quick glance at the built-in Caller ID showed that the call came from outside the Mercer, from somewhere else in Manhattan’s 212 area code. One ring. I stared at it. Two. My fingers froze. Three. I was afraid to answer.
    With an annoyed harrumph, Teel grabbed the handset before the call could roll over to voice mail. “Rebecca Morris’s office.” All of a sudden, she was chomping on a wad of gum. The minty stuff had materialized from thin air; I certainly hadn’t seen her unwrap a stick. Her lawyer-modulated voice was gone, replaced by the nasal stereotype of bad secretaries everywhere, each phrase punctuated with a hearty Doublemint smack. “Just a moment, ma’am. I’ll see if she’s available.”
    She extended the phone to me.
    I gave her a curious glance, but she refused to say anything, to give me any more to go on. I forced myself to take the instrument, to put on my most business-like voice. “Rebecca Morris,” I said, trying not to sound as puzzled as I felt.
    “Maureen Schultz here,” said a crisp voice. When I didn’t respond immediately, she added, “With Empire Realty? Over at the Bentley.”
    “The Bentley?” I repeated.
    “I just wanted you to know that we’re ready for you to move in at any time. Per your contract, the painting was completed last week, and the floors were refinished over the weekend. Your furniture all arrived this morning, and I had the men place it where you indicated in your sketches.”
    “My…sketches.” I swallowed hard and watched Teel’s smile grow broader.
    “I have to say, Ms. Morris, I was quite impressed with the information packet that you sent over. So many of our new owners don’t plan ahead, and we end up needing to reserve the elevators for another round of furniture removal and re-delivery.”
    “Well, yes,” I said. I’d never lived in a building where elevators needed to be reserved. When Dean and I had moved into our place together, we’d just traded off pressing the call button, doing our best to keep the too-small elevator on the floor where we needed it. I shook my head. “My assistant, um, Teel, takes care of those details for me.”
    My genie beamed as Maureen made approving noises. “So can we expect you this afternoon?”
    I glanced at my shabby surroundings. I wasn’t going to get anything else done today. Not with rumors from the board meeting still metastasizing in the hallways. Besides, the cops were likely going to show up soon, to go through my every professional possession. “I’ll be there in about an hour,” I said.
    “Wonderful!” Maureen’s enthusiasm made me believe I’d just perfected her afternoon. “I’ll see you then!”
    “Oh!” I said before she could hang up, and then I improvised, “I don’t have my papers in front of me, and I need to fill out a change-of-address form here at the office. What’s the exact address?”
    Teel nodded in approval as Maureen recited a street number that placed me in prime West Village real estate. The real estate agent laughed as she added, “Of course, your unit is 8D.”
    “Of course,” I said. “I’ll see you soon.”
    After I hung up, Teel said dryly, “I took the liberty of having furniture delivered for you. I’m sure you would have thought of that, if I’d let you go on with your wish-making.”
    “The liberty…” I stared at the address that I’d scribbled down. “How does this work? I mean, how much is the mortgage on a place like this?”
    “Nothing,” Teel said.
    “Nothing?”
    “Nada. Zip. Zero. Zilch. You wished for a condo, and your wish was my command.”
    “I bought it outright?”
    “That’s what the paperwork will say.”
    “And taxes? Insurance?” I remembered my grandfather