Witches for Hire (Odd Jobs #1)(4)
Chapter 2
JEREMY EXPECTED Clive to fail spectacularly, like the others, and no customers slowed the hours. Jeremy felt as if he was trapped in a time hex. Numerous varieties of crushed leaves and powders lay on his desk, open for just one person to come in. Couldn’t someone take a chance on our brand-new and cheaper equivalent to all the other bigger and better magic problem solvers? If he went into the lobby, Simone would either passive-aggressively ignore him, or he would be forced to listen to her lovey-dovey conversations with her husband. Werewolf bond or not, people being that happy in a relationship were creepy.
His phone line beeped, and Clive’s voice came through. “Do you have a tablespoon of ram’s horn shaving and a bundle of soapwort?”
Jeremy snapped forward and nearly knocked his precious tube of bat cream off his desk. He took a deep breath before pressing the button to speak. “I’ll have it measured out shortly.” Jeremy released the button and pumped his fist in the air. “Finally, work!” In minutes, he had the ingredients for ending a boggart invasion combined in a small burlap bag and brought them to Clive’s office, where a nervous woman knotted the strap of her purse in her lap.
“I’ve never done this before,” the woman said, her voice barely louder than the air-conditioning.
“You did the right thing comin’ to us,” Jeremy said in a Southern drawl he had picked up from prime-time cop shows. Those who had little dealing with magic tended to blab more about his activities to paparazzi, and a fake accent made people question their eyes when they laid them on Senator Ragsdale’s son.
Clive’s ingratiating smile toward the client became awkward as it was obvious he was adjusting to Jeremy’s meager disguise. “My associate is correct.”
“My boyfriend thinks I’m crazy.” The client pointed at the ceiling to indicate her infested home. “I know something’s up there, and it isn’t rats.”
“We wouldn’t have taken your case if we thought it was common vermin,” Jeremy assured her. “As a matter of fact, I’ve seen a bad case of boggarts where the property owner woke up to them chewing his ear off.” He shuddered as he looked off into space, remembering the client from his first job coming to them with blood-soaked bandages wrapped around his head. “That poor bastard.” He returned his attention to the woman. “You see, face wounds always bleed more.”
Covering her mouth in horror, the client turned wide eyes to Clive. “You said it was a minor problem.”
“Mr. Ragsdale!” Clive took the spell bag out of Jeremy’s fingers, a deep frown forming a line down his forehead. He gently gave the bag to her. “The point is that you won’t have to worry anymore if you follow our instructions.”
“And if you don’t pave over another one of their habitats. That’s how they got his other ear,” Jeremy murmured.
“Thank you for bringing these materials, Jeremy. I don’t want to keep you from the rest of your work.”
Jeremy awkwardly patted the client’s shoulder. “I should be leaving. We have more cases, but I promise, no one is getting their face eaten.” He left Clive’s office while combing through the conversation to find where he had said the wrong thing. Maybe he wanted me to be less honest for her comfort. He blinked. It had been so long since he worked for anyone who cared that he had forgotten how to be considerate. Jeremy made a mental note. Don’t scare the client. Down the hall, light laughter trickled from the lobby. I’m not the only person bringing bad habits with them. He walked to the lobby door and twisted the handle quietly. Inside, Simone sat eating a sandwich with her head tilted in the direction of her phone, from which Clive’s voice emanated. Jeremy tiptoed closer until he stood right behind her chair with his arms crossed. “I don’t think you have permission to listen in.”
Simone waved at him to be silent.
“My associate might not have stated his warning in the best way, but it would be wise to keep construction outside your house to a minimum,” Clive said.
“I have friends in Alabama. I can go stay with them, and—oh God, is my face gonna be eaten?” their client asked.
“There is no need for anything that drastic, ma’am. Sprinkle these at the four cardinal points of the house, and you should be fine. You can get a handle on this, I promise.”
“You’re sure?” The client’s voice came out in a squeak.
Simone shook her head at Jeremy. “Jeez, you put the fear of the woobie into her.”
He pursed his lips. “I got a little carried away.”
“I’m bored out of my mind too.” Simone grabbed a folded paper from the top of her desk and flipped it so Jeremy could see it was a check. “But this made me happy.” She waved the check in the air. “On time for the second week and the right amount.”
The on-time payments had been the most unsettling thing about Witches for Hire. Because that, added in with their boss’s unchanging pleasant demeanor…. Jeremy twiddled his thumbs. “What if he really is a good person?”
“We keep him in business and stop him from getting himself killed.” Simone looked as if she was thinking about saying more but stayed silent for a long minute. When she spoke again, she looked Jeremy in the eye. “First we have to help him get his green card, which means pushing our asses to help him complete his heroic acts.”