Mom’s car is still in the shop and mine has a flat tire.”
“How did you get a flat tire?”
“It wasn’t my fault! I swear!”
“I didn’t accuse you of anything! I just asked a question!”
“Oh, yeah, well…okay, I was on Route 295 and I was trying to get off the exit but there is all that construction going on so there isn’t a lot of room to maneuver and there was this bungee cord thing in the road and I couldn’t swerve around it because some idiot was getting off the exit using the shoulder so I ran over the bungee thing and it had a hook on it and the hook put a hole in the tire.”
“Why don’t you just put the spare on it?” asked Houston.
“I did! All by myself, too! But the spare was a donut. Dad says I can’t drive on it. And I can’t get a new tire until I get paid Friday.”
“You changed a tire by yourself? That puts you ahead of Nancy,” says Houston.
“Hey! I could change a tire if I had to!”
“Then why did I have to change yours for you when you got a nail in it?”
“Because why should I do it when I pay you to do things for me?”
“I don’t remember getting paid.”
“You eat, don’t you?”
“You are so mean to me,” he says and turns back to Anastasia. “I’ll give you a ride home.”
Anastasia gives Houston a hug and resumes working with the aromatherapy display.
“So all he wanted was to ask you to write for the magazine?” asked Houston in a lower voice. “Sure it isn’t a ruse? Lull you into a false sense of security before asking you to help collect virgin souls for a pit fiend or something?”
“Gladys is retiring. I’m assuming someone recommended me for it because of my psychology background. I can’t imagine him calling me out of the blue. I’m sure there are other perfectly qualified people.”
“But few with your amazing wit and sense of humor, Boss.”
“Thank you.”
“Not to mention your incredible apprentice.”
I just shake my head.
* * *
I’m reviewing the paperwork Darla emailed me. The contract is straightforward though a bit more work than Lucian had let on (there is a surprise). Demonology Today , like most periodicals, is transitioning to a webzine. I get the distinct impression from Darla that Gladys’ retirement may have been “encouraged” due to the shift to digital format. Gladys was responding to three or four letters an issue, working with a two-month lead. They want me to field two or three questions a week for the new online format, working with a two-week lead time. Currently, they will continue to produce the print magazine and just use answers from the webzine for the print column.
Mom had suggested that I call Gladys directly to discuss what she was being paid. Fortunately, Mom knew her personally and had her number in her old phone book. They had met years ago at the Augustus Symposium Daemonium, held every six years in Berlin, Germany, and kept in touch. So after my chat with Gladys, I pushed back on Darla and informed her that I did not intend to do more work than Gladys and get paid less than she was being paid. She tried to convince me that it was a great “opportunity for exposure.”
I told her that if I wanted to “expose” myself, I’d live at a nudist colony.
Apparently, Lucian is rather insistent that I take over the column, as Darla later called me back and agreed to my rate. This both makes me feel valued and reinforces the nagging feeling that he is up to something. I just don’t know what.
“Your bio sucks,” says Houston.
“Reads like a normal bio, mate,” says Eric. The two are oh-so-helpfully supporting this newest endeavor by offering unsolicited advice.
“See, that’s the problem,” says Houston between bites of dinner. “It reads like a normal bio. Most people don’t care about when Nancy earned Rank Five or that she has a doctorate. And the people who do care already know all of that. It is all on her WitchNet profile. We need to sex this up
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