Ever After (Rachel Morgan)

salute, hiding it behind his security podium when a masculine shout echoed from somewhere deep inside.
    I gave him a last smile, then turned away, heart pounding. Barbie worked the information/security stand just across the lobby, but there were two, and I wasn’t sure which one to go to. The elevator to the basement was through the Great Hall, but there was a stairway across from Larry’s post that only the employees, and their ex-girlfriends, knew about. My heels clacked on the marble floor, and I angled to the woman watching me from the information booth. I was willing to bet that was Susan.
    “Barb!” a high, masculine voice called, and I smiled at Susan when our eyes met.
    Jenks’s wings tickled my neck. “Ah, Barbie?” he prompted, and that first call registered.
    Feeling out of control, I spun to the guy in the tweed vest hanging out of the museum gift shop. “Girl, where’s my chai!” he called good-naturedly, and I reversed my direction. I was guessing this was Frank.
    “Sorry!” I gushed as I hustled to him, my voice raised in the echoing space as Jenks darted off my shoulder, zipping up and into the ductwork to find the main security junction. “I am so ditzy this morning. Some witch at Jun—ah, at Mark’s spilled her coffee all over me and I had to run home to change. I haven’t been able to think two straight thoughts in a row since!”
    Frank took the chai tea, a smile on his face. “Thank God . . . ,” he drawled, running an eye up and down my outfit. “That swill they serve in the cafeteria sucks. Honestly, I don’t know why you don’t wear black more often. It’s classic, and with that figure of yours, you can get away with it. Go on now. You’d better make with the busywork. He’s on the warpath. Some tight-ass is jerking his chain, and we peons get the horns.”
    My smile took on an honest warmth as he took a sip, waving me off. “Thanks,” I said, guessing they had a good friendship, and he smiled right back and sipped his drink.
    “Damn, girl!” he exclaimed dramatically. “How did you get it here so hot!”
    Larry was opening the doors to the public as I hustled to the last woman. Her polyester navy-blue suit with a white blouse screamed tour guide, and her eyebrows were high at my black outfit. “Susan,” I blurted before she could say anything. “Oh my God! You wouldn’t believe the morning I’ve had.” Nervous, I slid behind the counter, praying I was doing this right. “How’s the Bull?”
    Susan took the pumpkin latte, and I exhaled in relief, glad I got to keep the straight-up black. “He’s on fire,” she said, making an mmm of appreciation and wiping the foam from her lips. “Something about that new elf exhibit. Thanks, this is good this morning. Black is a new look for you. What’s up?”
    I shrugged, not wanting to sit down and claim the space until I knew it was mine. “A witch dumped her coffee on me. You like the purse?” I lifted my shoulder bag for her inspection. “It doesn’t match, but I was in a hurry.” Susan shrugged, and I set my bag on the counter beside my coffee. “Elf exhibit?” I prompted, scanning the security cameras at the ceiling for Jenks’s dust. We’d had zero time to plan this, and though I liked working by the seat of my pants, I didn’t want everything to come tumbling down because of new security.
    Coffee in hand, Susan eyed the first people coming in. “Something about the security not being adequate. Here they come. Is it Friday yet?”
    “Don’t push it,” I whispered. Hand to my middle, I fell back, not wanting to do a tour. Just inside the door were two moms and three kids. They were getting their strollers and diaper bags arranged as the kids hooted, listening to their voices echo. Behind them, Larry gave Ivy’s sketch bag a cursory glance. She got the all-clear, and the stately woman strode by the young moms with their kids with a tight-jawed stance at the lack of planning, but under it was a wistful need.
    “I don’t feel so good,” I said, still standing behind the information counter as if I belonged. Susan seemed to think I did, and I was going to go with it.
    “You look awful,” Susan said, eyeing me in concern. “Sit, will you? You’re making me nervous. I’ll take the first tour.”
    “Thanks,” I whispered, sinking down.
    “And while you’re there, organize the brochures, will you?” she added cheerfully, grabbing a map and going out to meet the moms, now trying to get