Reroll

Feeling much more relaxed, I stop and check the news online: Nothing of particular note. Some interviews of folks Alice healed… oh, an interview of Mary… apparently she's getting a lot of job offers… as an adult movie star. They also have Guinness scratching their heads on whether or not to include her in their records: They're apparently revising what a natural bustline means, as their prior definition couldn't handle the situation.  Well… good for her, I guess.

I check carefully: My copper business has not made the news even slightly. I dig into that, and find why: US copper mines produce over eighty thousand tons of copper per month, and the US imports still more.  Yes, my crew can make eighteen tons of copper in six seconds, and could make a month's supply of copper for the country in a day by drawing on my limitless spell points… but they still have to sell and deliver it.  Honestly, that slowdown is a good thing: I don't need to put the world's copper mines and refineries out of business, I just need a bit of capital to pay some baseline human businesses.

Speaking of… I check with that crew: Yes, they made a few dozen sales, have the deposits (which are half down), and have even delivered most of them already.  They're selling at 80% of the market price, so they make sales quickly. Which is fine: It's a drop in the bucket compared to the demand, at least for now.

I'm also a millionaire now.

I check my email: I have bites from the PR firms. Great!  

I check the time, and call the first: “Welcome to Twin Peaks, this is Jennifer, how can I help you?”

“Hello, this is Alice, I emailed you recently about a PR campaign….”

“Ah yes, a rather unique situation. When's good for a full scope meeting?”

We set a time and date, and I move onto the next: I schedule basically one each day for the next week when I don't have other appointments already, because that will let me have plenty of time between for orbital hops: I wasn't picky about locations when booking these.  I have appointments in LA, New York, Hollywood, Chicago, Houston, and Boulder.  

The first is a TV interview in LA: A perfect gentleman on screen, he is way too handsy off screen.  I quietly use a scroll of Bestow Curse after the show: He'll now feel the lady's emotional turmoil every time he touches a woman in a way she doesn't want… at least until the next time I kick it.  Good luck finding someone to remove it, and then explaining exactly what the curse does… especially as I don't actually tell him about it at all; he's going to find out it exists the hard way.  The interview itself is nice: They bring out a vet who lost an arm and most of his face; the Make Whole Life talent takes care of him, no problem, and he gets to have his face regrowing documented on TV.

I also call Amelia… and get her voice mail.  I can't say as I blame her: “The goddess,” showed up on her caller ID, because I still p0wn her phone, and called her via that route rather than the telephone network.  Meh.  The number I “called” from doesn't go anywhere - it can't actually be dialed, even - but if she tries to call it I'll get a notice and be able to connect.

The next day in New York, I meet with a PR firm: Signal 69.  They're on floor sixty nine of a rather tall building… must be where they gor the name.  I skip the elevator (it would require me to go all the way down to the street, then back up), simply ghosting through the window.  

Their front desk is nice enough; clean wood paneling making a nice curve, and patterned with diamonds in different colors of wood. There's a receptionist at the desk, wearing a very deep v in her blue business blazer… and she certainly fills it out.  She's wearing “librarian” glasses, and has her dark brown  hair tied up in a bun.

I try not to stare or lick my lips as I pull out an Alice, possess her, and make her visible to the receptionist… not the cameras, though, “Hello, I have a ten AM appointment.”

The woman jumps in her chair a bit, blinking at me, “I… didn't hear the elevator.”

“That's because I didn't use it. I'm Alice,” which should be obvious, as I have my wings out.

“Right… this way…” the receptionist gets up from her desk, and leads me to a door; I can't help but notice she's wearing a remarkably short skirt (the color matches her blazer well), and very high heels that force her rear end to sway hypnotically.

I'm not equipped to do anything about it this reroll; I'm not sure if that's good or bad right now.

She takes me to a comfortable meeting room with an oak table, one of those ‘smart’ whiteboards, some office chairs that would put most living room recliners to shame, a few couches, and a wet bar. “The adjuster will be with you shortly; please feel free to avail yourself of anything you like.”

I idly look at their stock as she walks out, still swaying… three bottles of wine (two whites and a red), a bottle of bourbon, a bottle of vodka, and a twelve pack of beer from some local brewery; plenty of energy drinks too… I leave it all alone.

I do doodle on the whiteboard; the markers don't actually use ink, they're really just colored trackers for a couple of specialized cameras along the edge of the board… I have a nice little beach scene scribbled out when the sales adjuster arrives.

He has less beef on him than a Guardian… but not by much. His neck is just slightly thinner than his skull, and his arms look like he could bench press a horse.  His silk business suit is obviously tailored specifically for him: You don't get sleeves like that off the rack.  

I look him up and down, “Are you the adjuster?”

He doesn't react… oh, right.  I set him so he's able to see me, and try again, “Are you the adjuster?”

He jumps, “Okay… Samantha mentioned you did that, but…” he shakes his head and extends his hand, “I'm Richard, and yes, I won the honor of working with you.  So let's go over what you need….”

I shake his hand, and we spend a while going over my situation and general needs while Richard takes notes.  Eventually, he nods, “I think I have what I need… I'll write up a couple proposals and send them your way. Do you have any questions for me?”

I consider, “Not at this time; I have a few more of these meetings this week, plus a few TV appearance.”

“Shopping around, huh? Dangerous that… you get what you pay for.”

I shrug, “If you don't shop around, people take advantage. So I always want to get at least three bids.”

He nods, “Well, we plan to give you value; you're a once in several lifetimes opportunity, we don't want to let you go.”

“I'll see what you come up with,” I smile, and fade from his sight. I then release my minion, and put her away, hanging out for a bit to see what he says about me.

Richard blinks for a minute, looks down at his notes, folds his lips into his mouth for a minute, and heads out of the meeting room. I follow, unseen.

Samantha greets him, “What do you need?”

The adjuster frowns, “She already left. You're sure she didn't use the elevator?”

The secretary nods, “It's set to make a loud ding as part of the security, and the stairwell door creaks like nobody's business.”

The bull of a man nods, frowning slightly, “Not that anyone uses the stairs this high up.  I want to see the security footage.  Come on… I expect I'll want more than my eyes on this.”

They head to a small closet, with an unbranded black box, keyboard, mouse, and computer screen showing nine cameras.  He hits a button, logs in (on the third try), and heads back a little… watching Samantha jump at seemingly nothing, talk to thin air, and lead nobody into the meeting room… at which point, Richard switches cameras, watching it until he comes into the room.

“She was never here?” my salesman is frowning very deeply.

“Back it up…” the eye candy for visitors shoves Richard aside, and he swallows at the close proximity, “Look, see that?” Samantha points at a small section of the screen.

Richard nods, “Ookay… yeah, the doodle on the whiteboard.  That's freaky.”

She raises her eyebrows, “More freaky than both of us seeing someone who appears from nowhere, vanishes to the same, and doesn't show up on camera?”

Richard pauses, “No, not really, but THAT proves we’re not crazy.  Please export that clip and forward it to me: I’ll want to send it to the CEO with my recommendation.”

The secretary raises one eyebrow, “Why bother the CEO?”

Richard purses his lips, “Okay, so… we should bid low on this one, cut our margins as thin as we can get away with, maybe even take a loss… then deliver.  HARD.  Because she is the real deal, and we absolutely want to say we represent her.”

Samantha chuckles, “You do marketing… yeah, I'll send it your way, I know you suck with electronics.” The woman who is clearly a much more than eye candy shakes her head as I walk out through the wall, and head back to my ship.