One Less Problem Without You by Beth Harbison Page B

getting rid of a bad boss, press six.”
    Okay, yes, that was wordy, but it covered a lot of ground that wasn’t interesting enough to stand on its own in three parts. Prinny herself had consolidated that collection, because the romantically forlorn did not want to listen to a long laundry list of boring business problems; they would hang up long before the last digit was proposed. So this worked, awkward as it was. It would speak to the people who were calling with job problems.
    â€œFor love spells, press seven.”
    That was it. That was bank right there. And they had to leave it at seven because so many people who were calling wanted someone to fall in love with them, and they’d waded through all the other options to get there. And anyone who was already into the hoodoo of calling for help like that would be totally sensitive to which number they had to press to achieve it.
    Prinny held up her hand. “Chelsea, can we somehow hit harder on that one?”
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    â€œElaborate on it.” Then, seeing Chelsea’s slightly confused expression, she said, “Make it more clear. More … sexy.” She knew that would ignite Chelsea’s imagination.
    And it did. Her eyes grew bright. “You mean, like, ‘For love spells to enchant and win that person you have been loving from afar, press seven…” She raised an eyebrow.
    Prinny thought about it. It was basically everything she’d been thinking they should say. Except … “And to live happily ever after.”
    Prinny didn’t believe in that. Seriously, how many people end up with that?
    Chelsea squealed and laughed and clapped her hands. “Oh my God, Prinny Tiesman, you are brilliant —to live happily ever after, that is exactly what everyone who calls for a love spell wants. Believe me. I’ve talked to hundreds. Maybe thousands. They want dramatic results.”
    Yes. Of course. Love was the most compelling thing of all. That was one reason they were waiting for those callers to wait until seven. They’d be back; to fall out of love, to get revenge, for whatever they remembered from the earlier part of the menu that they might need or want later.
    So far, so good.
    â€œGo on,” Prinny said.
    Chelsea shot her a look, then cleared her throat and moved into the microphone. “For good luck in all areas, press lucky number eight.” She looked at Prinny. “Isn’t seven supposed to be lucky?”
    â€œEveryone has a different lucky number.”
    â€œYou sure?”
    Prinny nodded, and so Chelsea fanned herself with her hands, then raised her chin and went on.
    â€œFor protection and hex reversal, press nine.”
    Prinny cringed at that one because it was such a damaging lie. Plenty of people used it, of course; they acted all tough on the outside, then revealed that they thought they were cursed, their crops were dying, their wives were straying, their codpieces weren’t operating according to the original manual.
    Each of these cases needed to be treated individually. Very individually. Anyone who thought they were cursed tended to be at least somewhat open to the reversal. All that was required was their belief that the hex was gone and—poof!—the hex was gone.
    So Cosmos was off to a damn good start in determining where their biggest customer market was. That was Prinny’s idea behind the specific radio differentiation; she knew that much could be snuck in and out, yet not all the sneaking would be tolerated.
    Finally Chelsea—who was gathering her things to leave, even as she spoke into the microphone—said, “If you need further help, please press zero. If anyone is here to assist you, they will pick up. Otherwise, please leave your name, problem, and the number of livestock your family possesses at this time.”
    â€œVery funny,” Prinny said. “Just leave it at press zero, okay?”
    She