Mesmerized: The Magician's Plaything by Mallorie Griffin Page A

meeting place – not a proper office, but a small coffee shop downtown. It only made sense, since this was hardly a conventional job. After she hung up, she felt strangely optimistic about the entire affair. Malcolm seemed genial enough, and his accent was quite nice. Tammy had always been a sucker for British accents.
    But now she had to get ready, and get ready she did.
    She was all business – laying out a pretty but modest black skirt and a slightly more revealing sage green top. She didn't have much in the way of assets to show off, but she figured it wouldn't hurt to flaunt what she had. After all, this position was presumably going to involve skimpy outfits, so she'd better get used to it.
    As she ran to the bathroom to apply a quick coat of makeup, Tammy wondered exactly what this job was going to entail. Of course, she'd seen a lot of TV shows that employed magicians, and their inevitable assistants, but she also knew that TV wasn't always the most accurate representation of reality. Was she really just going to be a scantily clad, living breathing prop to be moved around the set and performed on?
    Not that she minded, but it didn't sound like very fulfilling work. But a job was a job.
    She was ready within the hour, and scurried down the stairs of her shabby apartment complex and into her equally shabby car. She bought everything on a budget. Tammy liked to be as debt-free as possible, even if it meant that she didn't get nice things. She could deal with a cheap car, but she hated that potential employers might be judging her, based on her old wreck.
    No matter. She pumped herself up again, started the car, and made her way to the coffee shop.
    She noticed Malcolm immediately when she entered the little shop. This place was a corporate affair, and designed down to the inch, and she didn't much care for the atmosphere. But Malcolm had suggested it and she certainly wasn't going to contradict him.
    Malcolm, like the coffee shop, was well-groomed and neatly arranged. Hardly even a hair was out of place, and she had to admit that he looked quite dashing in his suit. In fact, he was dressed far better than her. Tammy fought back a flush as she approached the man.
    “Malcolm Hargrove?” she asked, approaching the man and extending a hand, feigning as much enthusiasm and confidence as she could muster. For a moment she pondered whether the man really was Malcolm, but he was the only lone gentleman in the shop. It had to be him.
    Indeed, it was. He stood up from his chair, and took Tammy's hand, smiling conservatively. “Ah, you must be Tamara Dodge. Pleasure to meet you.”
    “The pleasure is all mine,” Tammy replied, and then stifled a gasp as he brought her hand up to his mouth, kissing it softly. She felt a small jolt jump through her body. No man had ever been so cordial to her before.
    Malcolm noticed Tammy's surprise and smiled, though he also dropped her hand. “Pardon me, I'm accustomed to greeting lovely young ladies in that manner.”
    “Lovely?” Tammy said, smiling and flushing even hotter.
    “Indeed. Your photo doesn't even begin to do you justice.” This Malcolm was certainly a charmer, if nothing else.
    “So, about the job,” Tammy said as they both sat down.
    “Would you like a coffee?” Malcolm said, completely ignoring her question, and for the first time, Tammy narrowed her eyes slightly. Was this magician gig just an excuse to meet girls? She'd had her suspicions about it from the beginning, but Malcolm didn't seem like the type of guy who'd have trouble getting a date. If he was a crusty old fat man, she could see it, but he clearly wasn't. He was young, good looking, with a decent body, though it was difficult to tell how good that body was underneath the suit.
    Finally, she said, “Yes. Coffee would be nice.” If he had an ulterior motive, so be it. She didn't entirely have a problem with that.
    Malcolm stood again, and quickly went to order the drink.

    “Black, please,” she