Isabel greeted us in her usual effusive manner when we got to her office. "Trix just called down and said she'd be a few more minutes," she said.
"So it's just the four of us?" Art asked.
"Yeah, some of the others had dates."
"Traitors!" Isabel laughed at Art's outburst, but I wasn't sure if Art was serious or not. She wasn't laughing, but maybe she had a dry sense of humor.
"How was your first week on the job, Katie?" Isabel asked.
"It was interesting, to put it mildly."
"You're coping very well with all the excitement, though. We lose more verifiers the first week than you'd imagine."
Actually, I didn't find that hard to imagine. Either the depressing working conditions or the craziness and fear that maybe all of this was the result of a total psychotic breakdown would get to you. Then again, I'd managed to get myself into more than my fair share of trouble. I doubted most verifiers had first weeks like mine.
I looked up to see a man coming into the office. "He in?" he asked Isabel, who nodded. She looked like she was having a hard time forming words. Then I looked at him again and found myself more than a little stunned. It was Owen, but I'd never have recognized him at first glance. Instead of his usual business suits or lab coats, he wore jeans, a baseball jersey, and a Yankees cap. He looked entirely different, and utterly adorable.
He saw me, blinked, blushed, and said, "Hi, Katie. What are you doing here?"
"I was about to ask you the same question."
He turned even pinker. "Playoff game. Rod thinks he has a spell to get us in."
Isabel groaned. "He's not trying that again, is he? Didn't you two almost get in trouble last year?"
Rod's office door opened and he stuck his head out into Isabel's office. "I've got it figured out now, though," he said. Then he got a good look at Owen and frowned.
"Are you sure you're up to this?" he asked. Owen did look pretty much like Death with a hangover, even with the baseball cap pulled low over his eyes. He must have spent the day testing that horrible spell.
"I could use a night out," Owen said. "I'll be fine." I thought he'd be better off home in bed, but a night at a baseball game might be good for him.
Just then another fairy, whom I recognized as Merlin's receptionist, showed up. That had to be Trix. "You girls ready to par-tay?" she whooped.