Page 148 of Love Spells: And Other Non-Refundable Magic

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Dani,” I grumble, and she giggles in my ear.

She releases me just in time for Veronica to reach us and pull me into a much more reasonable hug.

“Congratulations.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m so proud of you.”

That one gets me more than Dani’s screaming did. I squeeze her harder for a second before letting go.

Rose is sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the coffee table, surrounded by three piles of clothes and an open duffel bag she has been pretending to pack for the past forty minutes. She raises her wineglass toward me.

“I also manifested it.”

“You didn’t even know about the job until Monday,” I reply, walking to the living room and stepping over whatever explosion Rose has going on in the center of my house. “You are both banned from using that word in my presence ever again.”

“Interesting stance for someone currently employing a witch,” Veronica says.

“I don’t employ her.” Three faces turn to me, and I feel a slight flush creep up my cheeks. I reconsider. “I have contracted her services.”

“That sounds naughty,” Dani says, making a show of licking a stray drop of wine from the side of her glass.

“It does,” Rose agrees, giving me her most obnoxious wink.

I pick up my wine again. This is why I should have celebrated with Flora first.

I did manage to tell her, calling her approximately twelve seconds after leaving Phillip’s office, before I even made it back to the elevator. She answered me before I reached the lobby, and I tried to start the conversation with a very professional hello, only to hear her say, “You got it,” like she already knew from the fact that I was calling.

Then she made me tell her everything: the title, the responsibilities, who I would report to, what happened when I asked about compensation.

Especially that part.

I hadn’t planned to negotiate at all.

Or, more accurately, I had planned to negotiate in the theoretical way I plan many things that terrify me. I had researched salary ranges. I had written down a number. I had even practiced saying it on the bus that morning, which was humiliating because I caught a man across the aisle watching me mumble to myself about industry comps and benchmarking.

Then Phillip extended me the offer—literally on a piece of paper across his desk—and I asked for more.

And he agreed, immediately.

And the strangest part was that after I walked out of his office, I didn’t feel like I’d gotten away with something but rather I’d participated in a conversation about the value of my own work.

I felt like I’d gotten the job I wanted.

“Tell us again what you said,” Dani says.

“No,” I deny. She pouts. “You’ve heard it twice.”

“I like the part where Philip said that Hell had been apprised,” she says, shimmying her shoulders in celebration. “I would have loved to be a fly on the wall in that conversation.”

“Do you think she cried?” Veronica plops her body on the couch next to mine, then takes a sip of her drink. “I’ve been waiting years for someone to professionally tell that woman to fuck off.”

“Unfortunately, I don’t think that’s the terminology he used.” I settle back against the couch, stretching my legs beneath the coffee table as much as I can without messing up Rose’s pile of clothes. “But I do hope she cried.”

Dani raises her glass to that, and Veronica reaches over to clink hers against it.

I should probably feel worse about the small rush of satisfaction that gives me, but I don’t. Helena will still have a job and will continue to terrorize her assistants, and I will have mine, many levels and divisions away from her.