"Magic?" I asked.
He shook his head. "No, mechanics. This is new. The boss likes to tinker, and he hates climbing stairs. He thought this was far more interesting than an elevator. I suspect there was some magic involved in the invention, however."
We stepped onto the spiraling escalator, which deposited us in a lush office suite.
There was a reception area with a fairy hovering over a chair behind a giant mahogany desk. Behind her was a pair of ornate wooden doors, and off to the side there appeared to be another office. "Oh, good, you're here," she said as we approached. "He's been expecting her."
The doors swung open and we stepped into the boss's office. It looked like pretty much every CEO's office I'd ever seen—not that I'd seen a lot—with fancy furniture, thick carpets, and elegant artwork on the walls. I got the impression, however, that this furniture was really antique and not a modem reproduction. The far wall was all windows overlooking City Hall and the park, while the adjacent wall had a nice view of the Brooklyn Bridge.
I shouldn't have felt intimidated about meeting the boss, but I did. My dad was CEO
at the store, but he was just Dad. I'd never met the CEO at my last job. The newspapers painted portraits of extremely wealthy, powerful men who'd never notice a low-level flunky like me. I suddenly felt like a kid called into the principal's office. I wondered if I should bow or curtsy. From what I'd heard about some chief executives, falling on my face on the floor and chanting "I'm not worthy" wouldn't be out of the question.
The distinguished gentleman who'd held court during my job interview came around his desk to greet us. "My dear Miss Chandler," he said, taking both my hands in his.
He then looked up at Rod. "Thank you, Rodney, for bringing her here. I'll see you at lunch." Rod looked stung by the dismissal, but he nodded and left. The doors shut behind him. "Please, have a seat." He led me toward a sofa that was angled to have a nice view through either window.
"I'm glad you decided to join us, although I knew you would," he said. There was a ring of certainty to his voice that said he really had known I'd take the job, not because he'd guessed it or because he knew how I'd react, but because he'd seen it.
Now I remembered what Rod had said about precogs.
"The offer came along just at the time I needed it," I said.
"And you came along at just the time we needed you. It worked out for everybody."
His smile was warm and genuine, which made him less intimidating to me. "I must apologize for the rather abrupt way in which we've introduced you to our company, and I hope to rectify that with you this morning. First of all, I've been remiss in not introducing myself. My name in modern English is Ambrose Mervyn, and I'm the chief executive officer of Magic, Spells, and Illusions, Inc. I held that position a very long time ago, then retired. Recently, I came out of retirement to take up my old position and help steer the company through some challenging times."
"I guess the economy sucked even for magical people," I said with a knowing nod, even as I tried to figure out what he might have meant in making a point of saying that his name was the modern English version.
"Yes, I suppose it has," he said, sounding like he'd just realized that. Now I wondered what he'd really meant.
"As a result, I'm getting reacquainted with the company, just at the same time you're learning about it. Things have changed a great deal since my day." His voice grew distant and wistful. I imagined he had a vacation house in Vermont that he'd had to abandon. "The company's grown considerably and moved its operations to the New World, which is something of an adjustment for me." Strike the vacation house in Vermont, move it to the Cotswolds. But this operation didn't look recent. It had been in New York for at least a century, from the looks of things. I decided not to think too much about it, for it was enough to give me a headache.
"My role has changed as well," he continued. "In my day, we weren't quite so businesslike. Our focus was more on what they call research and development now."
Which explained his apparent fondness for Owen. He knew and understood what Owen did, while personnel would be a foreign concept to him. How old was he anyway?
"As a result, I'm not sure how many of your questions I'll be able to answer, but feel free to ask them at any time. In the meantime, I'd like to learn more about you."
"What would you like to know?"
"Just tell me about yourself."