MATH Draco slammed open an office door bearing the nameplate of Smedley O’Tentacle, Human Resources Manager. “Smedley!”
The thin man behind the desk waved his arms. “I’m in the middle of an interview, here.”
A woman sat opposite the HR manager. Math got a quick impression of a slender female, business suit, black hair, with her hands clasped in her lap. “I’m sorry, miss. I don’t mean to interrupt. There’s an emergency.”
Smedley protested, “Mr. Draco, you need to make an appointment through the intra-office system—”
“This is an insane situation, Smedley. I need to hire a service or a crew immediately.”
“Mr. Draco, there is a hiring freeze due to non-availability of funds. It’s been in effect for weeks.”
Math didn’t listen to what the HR guy was saying. It wasn’t important, anyway. “I need dozens of people in here, right away. Maybe hundreds. I didn’t realize the level of catastrophe this casino is facing.”
“We have instructions not to hire anyone. There is an official hiring freeze in effect.”
“Everything is at risk. If we don’t obtain this first round of outside funding, we’ll lose the entire initial investment, and this endeavor will be an utter failure. There is construction debris all over the casino. The rooms are in shambles. We need an army of housekeepers or those people who come in after a hurricane to shovel out the two feet of contaminated muck.”
A woman sitting over in the waiting area, ready to be interviewed, stood up. “I can clean it up.”
Math spun to look at her. She was slim, pretty, and oh-so-very young, but looks can be deceiving. She might be a fae and five centuries old. He asked, “You can? Do you have a cleaning company or a team of cleaners? Do you have a disaster recovery service?”
She jutted her chin into the air. “I’m a home and hearth witch, one of the best of my generation. I can conjure whatever I need to clean up any mess. With enough time, I could have cleaned up Los Angeles after Typhoon Esmeralda.”
Her confidence was as entrancing as her sharp chin and dark eyes, which seemed to illuminate from a golden glow within her. She wore a black, business trouser suit, which seemed smart and professional. Too many job applicants dragged themselves into the HR department as if appearances and orderliness didn’t matter. The only unconventional thing about her outfit were the sparkly, violet witch boots peeking from under the hems of her dark pants.
Also, he liked the way she discreetly plucked a tissue from her purse and ran it over the edge of Smedley’s desk, wiping off a trace of dust. Attention to detail was important, as was discretion.
Math raised one eyebrow. “Typhoon Esmeralda wasn’t a hurricane. A mage lost control of a mob of wind and water elementals, and they rioted.”
She grinned at him. “Yes, but the naturals don’t believe in magic, so they don’t believe what they see or hear. They’ll do anything to explain away what is obviously a magical occurrence, even pretending that a hurricane hit Los Angeles.”
Math knocked an ashtray off the desk, scattering ashes and half-burned bits onto the floor. No one smoked in the office area of the Dragon’s Den Casino, of course, but little fire accidents tended to happen around dragon shifters. “Let’s see you clean that up.”
The witch pulled a small whisk broom and dustpan out of her purse and flicked the ashes and charcoal into the pan. She tipped it into a wastebasket.
Math laughed. “I meant with magic. Your little whisk broom isn’t going to be able to clean up tons of construction debris or scrub that algae-crusted fountain clean.”
She pursed her lips. “Sometimes, the simplest way is the best, but if you want to see my magic, we can do that, too.” She kicked the wastebasket over.
The cold ashes spilled out. Shredded paper and old food wrappers tumbled on top.
Math stepped back from the ashy mess. He’d just had his shoes shined by his house staff that morning.
The witch pulled a large art notebook out of her purse, the kind with that thick ragstock paper for drawing or pastels. “Give me a minute. Incantations are kind of like making a shopping list. You know, you have to categorize each item, separate the sub-lists by where they are in the grocery store, and then alphabetize everything.”
That sounded very organized. Math should try that. Maybe he could sort his contacts list into folders and sub-folders, based on the committee or division that he knew the person from.
Using brushes dipped in pots of ink that floated beside her in the air, the witch drew a complicated pattern on the paper.
He moved around behind her to get a better look at the colorful swirls and decorations she drew. The pattern was kind of pretty, but the way her hand moved as she flipped and drew the design fascinated him. He shook his head, and a tendril of smoke escaped his nose.
Odd, his nose only smoked like that when his dragon was awakening, and his dragon hated business and spreadsheets. It slept through audits, though it awoke during confrontational meetings to add power to his voice and influence. His anger at the accounting department and Smedley the HR Guy had probably roused his beast.
The pretty little witch held her drawing at arm’s length, alternately peering and scowling. “Okay, I think it’s ready.”
She ripped the paper out of the notepad and held it up.
Math could have sworn that he heard her muttering under her breath, “Please work. Please work. Please work.”
The witch blew on the piece of paper. The puff of air from her breath levitated the paper in the air for just a moment before it burst into colored smoke and fiery sparkles.
Math’s dragon heartily approved of the way her magic looked. Fire was warm. Fire was comforting. He felt the beast lift his spiritual head and scent, trying to inhale the magical smoke.
As the shimmering firefall of her magic reached the floor, the flames coalesced into a dozen glittering, multicolored mice that scurried into the pile of debris. Working together, the apparitional rodents scooped and shoved the litter back into the wastepaper basket.
Some of the smoke that had risen into the air curled in on itself and became small birds that grabbed the basket, tugging it upright.
Two of the birds landed on the witch’s shoulders and gave her a nuzzle, but she just laughed at them and sent them back to work.
Oh, was that just stinkin’ cute, or what?
The mice burrowed into the carpeting, cleaning up every last speck of ash and dust that had come out of the wastepaper basket and tossing it in just as the rim rose too high for them to reach.
A turquoise mouse scurried up the witch’s trouser leg and sat on her shoulder, watching with its beady, blue eyes.
The rest of the mice jumped into a pile, becoming a small, pink anteater that hoovered up the last of the dust and then cannonballed into the wastepaper basket, disappearing in a shower of cool, blue sparks.
The witch held out her arm, and the turquoise mouse sprinted down to her hand and leaped into the air, swan-diving into the sparks, and disappeared.
The birds, likewise, popped back to the magical dimension from which they had come with aerial twists and flourishes.
Math grabbed the corner of the desk for balance, a slow grin spreading over his face. She was exactly what the casino needed. “Can you do that on a larger scale?”
The witch pressed her lips together in a prim smile. “Of course. It just takes longer to draw the incantation.”
“You’re hired.” He turned back to the hiring manager. “She’s hired, effective immediately. I don’t care how much she costs or where you get the money. Wait, actually, I do care. There’s been enough sloppy accounting in this casino. I will make sure the money is in place for her salary by this afternoon from the Draco family finances.”
The hiring manager scowled at him. “This position isn’t salaried. It’s a temporary independent contractor position.”
“Whatever. I’ll have the money ready for you.” He spun back to the witch. “Come with me. You have an enormous job to do, and I will pay you whatever you ask if you can get this casino ready for the angel investors that are coming in a month.”
“A month? The whole casino? That is an enormous project. I don’t know whether I can do it.”
“Hire whomever else you need. Hire workers or teams or subcontractors.”
“I don’t need to hire anybody. I just have to conjure the helpers. But that takes time.”
“I will pay you whatever you want. I will make it rain dragon’s gold on you if we’re ready for the investors’ walk-through.”
Her coy smile warmed his skin, and she cocked out one curving hip and braced her fist on it. “Well, that offer would be hard to refuse.”
“Come with me. I’ll show you the worst parts of it that absolutely must be cleaned up before this dog-and-pony show for the angel investors. It’s scheduled for one month from today, whether we’re ready for it or not. I don’t even know what to call you. What is your name?”
“Bethany Aura. Are there going to be real dogs and ponies at the angel investor show?”
“I’m Math Draco,” he introduced himself, “and no, it’s a figure of speech. No dogs or ponies, shifter or natural.”
Her frown made a cute crease between her slim eyebrows. “That seems disappointing.”
Math grimaced. “Real angels, though.”
“Oh! They’re quite imposing.”
“To say the least. I’d rather have live dogs and ponies.”
Math tried to slow his stride so she could keep up, but the little witch, Bethany, trotted at his side, mincing along in her high-heeled boots.
Those sparkly, shiny, fascinating, violet, high-heeled boots. He watched the purple flashes under her trousers out of the corner of his eye as they walked.
She said, “Math is an interesting name.”
“Yeah, I get that a lot. It’s short for Mathonwy, who was an ancient king in a Welsh area called Gwynedd.”
“Family name? Bethany is a family name. That’s why I sound like I’m someone’s ancient great-grand aunt from England.”
“Yeah, it’s a family name, in a manner of speaking. Most dragons have traditional names.”
“Oh! You’re a dragon shifter!”
Her surprised tone lilted in his ears. He wondered what she sounded like when she giggled. Maybe like music. “This is the Dragon’s Den Casino. It’s a den venture.”
“I didn’t realize you were a supernatural, too.”
“What, I don’t look like I’m a supernatural?” Math stopped in the middle of the hallway, and he grinned down at her with his head canted to the side.
Lord of Magic, he was trying to be particularly nice to her. What was wrong with him?
Absolutely nothing. This little witch was going to save his scaly butt, if she could indeed clean up and organize this wyrm’s nest before the angels got there.
Math would bend his knee to anyone who could do that.
That was an odd image, himself down on one knee.
Now, why would he think about that?