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Monday morning, she headed to the bank in renewed spirits, refreshed by the fun and comradery of the weekend. Mindful of Jake's warning about potential sabotage of her car, she arrived early, and parked her (new) car in a spot close to the staff door, noting it was in direct view of the security camera. Sliding her purse strap over her shoulder and exiting the car, she frowned down at her purse. It seemed oddly heavy. Wow, she must be more sleepy than she thought. She'd driven through Starbucks on her way to work, but hadn't taken the time to drink any of the hot beverage yet.

The security guard on duty by the door, with a clear view of the parking lot, nodded to her as she approached.

"Morning, Miz O'Neill."

"Good morning, Steve." She smiled at him, swiping her card to unlock the door. He pulled the door open for her as she juggled her purse, small lunch cooler, and cup of Starbucks coffee. "Thank you."

"I hear you're this month's target of the month," he said, sympathy on his face.

Harper grimaced. "Target of the year, I think. I got hired for the job Tiffany expected."

"Oh, that's bad," Steve agreed. He patted her shoulder. "You be careful now. I was in high school with that precious trio, and they haven't gotten any better. Good luck to you."

"Yeah, thanks," she sighed, passing into the bank. "Have a good day, Steve."

She stowed her lunch in her locker, then went to her office. After unlocking her desk, she retrieved her pens - now kept secure in a locked file cabinet - and checked weekend messages. Halfway through her coffee, she remembered to lock her purse in the bottom drawer, noting its familiar weight, not heavier than usual at all. Caffeine was an amazing thing, she thought, though eyeing her large Starbucks cup, maybe she needed to cut back. Having delusions from a delayed morning fix couldn't be healthy.

She'd made significant progress on her workload when her coworkers started trickling in. A few stopped by with friendly morning greetings, brightening her mood. The pleasant atmosphere shattered when a trio of unwelcoming faces appeared, blocking her doorway. Harper kept her head down, refusing to acknowledge the women who loomed there with obvious animosity. If they wanted to play the quiet treatment game, she wouldn't complain. She'd learned the hard way that their verbal jabs could sting, so their newfound vow of silence suited her perfectly.

Finally they drifted off, but not before Tiffany, sneered at her. "Don't get too comfortable in this office. You're not going to last much longer here."

Not fifteen minutes later, just before the bank doors opened for business, there was an unholy shriek from one of the cubicles.

"Ow!!!"

Startled, Harper turned to look, and heads popped over the tops of the cubicles as Tiffany shot into view. "Someone pulled my hair!"

Lydia, the bank manager, approached from the back of the cavernous room. "Tiffany, no one was near you."

"There was!" Tiffany insisted, glaring around angrily. She crossed to the cubicle wall separating her from the other side, and peered over. Her face set in angry lines. "Someone must have been here, and run out."

The employees exchanged uneasy looks before sitting back down. Harper understood their reluctance to point out the obvious, that the adjoining cubicle had been empty and everyone else was already at their desks. She stifled a laugh as she returned to her work. Though she couldn't explain how Tiffany's hair got pulled, she wished she knew who'd done it - they deserved a free lunch.

The next few hours passed uneventfully. Harper was just getting ready for lunch when an ominous shadow blocked her doorway.

"You did this," Janis, the lesser of the three mean girls, accused, holding her hand out.

Harper blinked, looking closely at what appeared to be a pair of pantyhose dangling from Janis' fingers, showing cuts and slices all along both legs.

"I didn't do that," she denied. "Why would you think it was me?"

"You did it while I was out to lunch. I put this extra pair in my desk drawer this morning, and now look at them!"

"Whoa!" Harper glared right back. "I didn't touch your hose, and I haven't been near your desk. I haven't left this office since I went on break at ten, and I went straight to the staff lounge and back."

In fact, she'd taken to having her lunch late. Since she had some freedom in arranging her schedule, she was timing her lunches for after the three mean girls, Vanessa, Tiffany, and Janis, had returned from lunch, so she didn't have to have their aggressive stares, snide comments, and outright hostility aimed at her.

Steve, who was currently roaming the bank while Jake had the parking lot and back entrance, came over to see what was up.

"Harper," Janis spat her name out like a curse, "got into my desk and cut up my spare pantyhose while I was at lunch."

"It wasn't me," sighed Harper, wanting to facepalm. What was wrong with these woman? She pointed across the room. "There's a security cam. Go check it. It'll show me not leaving my office for the past three hours."

Janis stared at her angrily. Harper knew she must be seething, but she could hardly accuse Harper of having done it on break, because Janis and Vanessa had been in the break room the whole time she'd been there.

"Steve," Lydia said from behind the burly guard. "Go check the security camera feed for the last few hours, please."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Janis, please get back to work. I'll take things from here."

Harper felt relief as her doorway finally cleared, and she swiveled to face away from it, fighting to control her breathing. This situation was unbearable! She adored her position, cherished assisting clients with organizing their money matters, setting them up for whatever version of achievement they dreamed of. But these theatrics... a tremor ran through her as she gripped her upper arms. She despised the hostility and constant tension. And it had barely been a week! Since she couldn't figure out how to end it, she imagined this nightmare stretching endlessly ahead. But there was no chance she'd submit to those three tormentors, and let them drive her away from her position.

She watched, however, curious, as Steve emerged from the back, where the security room was located. After a brief colloquy with Lydia, both of them headed back to the security room. Okay, now she was even more curious. No matter who Steve might have seen on the camera, why would Lydia have to go watch it herself? Wouldn't Steve's report be enough?

A zoom call with an older couple living in a retirement village took up the next hour. When finally she disconnected from the call, she found Lydia waiting outside her door. Seeing she was free, Lydia came in, and sat in one of the chairs facing her.

"You're in the clear," she told Harper. "Although I can't imagine why Janis picked you, particularly, as the culprit."

Harper could have told her why, but preferred not to be seen as lodging complaints for what was, essentially, nothing more than petty harassment. "So who was it?" she asked.

Lydia's expression changed to one of bewilderment. "That's the interesting thing. No one."

Whoa, she was not expecting that. "No one?"

"No. And Janis states clearly she bought the stockings on her way to work, to have a spare pair."

Harper nodded in understanding, as she, too, always kept a backup pair with her, although now they were safely in her staff locker.

Lydia went on, "The wrapper from the stockings was still in her drawer, ripped open, and Janis even showed me proof of purchase from a convenience store this morning, before work. But according to everyone I spoke with, not a single person entered her cubicle while she was having lunch, plus she never left her workstation all morning. We double-checked the footage for the time around her coffee break too, and came up empty."

Harper blinked. "Okay, that is... weird? I'd suggest maybe she did it herself, but she was so furious about it... which I totally get, by the way... I really don't see that as a possibility."

"No." Lydia sighed, pushing some fly-away strands of hair off her face. "It's just very strange, and you know," she glanced around to be sure no one was in hearing distance, "given what we are, when we say something is strange, we mean Strange, with a capital S!"

Harper grinned at her. "I know, right?"

Lydia stood up, smoothing the lines of her cream linen jacket. "Well, I'll leave you to it. You haven't had lunch yet, have you?"

"No, I was about to go, when I had a call from the Mason's. We've been playing phone tag all morning, so I wanted to take their call when we finally connected."

"Go take it now, then, I'll let the receptionists know."

"Thank you, Lydia."

Harper grabbed her lunch from her locker, avoiding the break room and its Hostile Harpies (with apologies to real harpies). Still stinging from the recent accusation, she headed to the small park two blocks away. She settled at a picnic table with her purse, Kindle and lunch, grateful for the shade of a large tree and the cool Hudson breeze on this warm summer day.

With a sigh, she stood when her phone chimed its warning. After disposing of her sandwich wrapper in the garbage bin, she made her way back to work. At least, she mused, spending her break away from the building meant no one could pin any wrongdoing on her.

Jake was still at the back door when she returned, and he grinned at her. "I heard about the drama of the hair pulling and the pantyhose."

Harper grimaced. "I'm sure everyone has by now. Have Steve or Lydia told you the really weird part?"

"About what was on the security cams? Yeah. That is weird. Have you thought maybe Janis did it herself, to blame you?"

"Yes, and Lydia and I even talked about that briefly... at least," she amended, "not the part about so she could blame it on me, just that she did it herself. But the thing is, Jake, she was just too mad. I don't think even she can fake that level of mad."

"Poltergeist?" He suggested, with a chuckle.

Harper rolled her eyes. "That's taking it a bit too far, don't you think?"

Jake swiped his own card to unlock the door, and held it open for her, with a wink. "At least, it couldn't have happened to a better person."

That startled a laugh from her. "You're too right!"

She stowed her cooler in her locker and made for the kitchen to pour coffee. She'd regret her growing addiction later, but dealing with false accusations required caffeine. Unlike her morning black coffee meant to wake her up, this afternoon cup was for comfort - so she grabbed a creamer and some packets of sugar.

Back at her desk with coffee in hand, Harper felt an odd tug near her ankle, like snagged pantyhose. A quick glance showed nothing amiss. Okay, weird. Her phone pinged, and she swiped it to find a text message. It was all she could do not to whoop aloud… she'd been approved for the apartment! All she had to do was drop by after work to sign the paperwork,and it was hers!

With an effort she considered truly praiseworthy, Harper did not bounce in her chair, but, oh! She wanted to! Her steaming coffee caught her attention, and with a grin of delight that wouldn't be suppressed, she reached for the creamer. As she began to peel the top off the creamer, another stronger tug on her lower leg, more insistent, made her pause. She pushed back her chair to check the floor - empty. And her nylons remained pristine, no runs in sight.

Reyna stirred suddenly, and nudged her. Magic.

Magic? Oh. Oh, now, wait a minute. A wild thought came to her. She glanced at the creamer in her hand, and slowly placed it back on the desk. Surely not? And yet, there had been someone pulling Tiffany's hair that morning, and the destruction of Janis's nylons but no one caught on the camera.

Online research had told her brownies protected residents of their chosen households, and she'd been leaving treats for one in her room at the inn every night. It must have heard about her work problems and followed her here. It had to be a brownie - of course! And that also explained her unusually heavy purse this morning.

She leaned over, to whisper to the dark shadows beneath her desk. "Wait one minute, I'll be right back."

Harper rushed to the break room with a few dollar bills, her thoughts racing. She grabbed several of the cups of creamer, and scrounged in a cabinet for a small dish. Going to the vending machine, she debated the choices available. Ultimately, she decided on a pack of Lorna Doone's, on the basis that they were shortbread, which was Scottish, and brownies were, by and large, also Scottish. Tonight she could consult with Renee to see what she should bring.

Returning to her desk, after casting a surreptitious glance around to be sure no one was looking into her office, she opened two of the creamers and poured them into the dish. She set this, and one of the cookies, far back in the corner beneath her desk.

Finally getting her coffee prepared, she returned to work with a lightened heart. She could not wait to get back to the inn and tell Renee about this!

Harper burst through the inn's back door, her gaze frantically scanning the warm, inviting kitchen for Renee. The intoxicating aroma of freshly baked cookies filled the air, momentarily distracting her from her urgent mission. She spotted the stately innkeeper pulling a tray of golden-brown treats from the oven, her movements graceful despite the heat.

"Renee!" Harper exclaimed, her voice tinged with anticipation. Her foxy-red hair was slightly disheveled, and her cheeks were flushed with excitement. "You won't believe what happened today!" She paused, catching her breath, her mind racing with the extraordinary events she was eager to share.

Renee set the tray down and turned, her eyebrows raised. "My goodness, Harper. What's got you so worked up?"

Harper launched into her tale, words tumbling out in a rush. "Remember how I told you about those mean girls at work? Well, the strangest things have been happening all morning. Janis' stockings were mysteriously cut up, and Tiffany swore someone pulled her hair, but no one was there! They even reviewed the security tapes, and it didn't show anyone."

Renee's eyes widened as she listened, a knowing smile playing at her lips. Her dark gaze sparkled as she leaned in, silver-streaked hair catching the light.

"And then this afternoon," Harper continued, "something tugged my stockings while I was fixing coffee. That's when I realized - it's a brownie! One from here must have followed me to work!"

She caught her breath, heart racing as she looked to Renee for approval. "I left coffee creamer and cookies under my desk," she whispered, fidgeting with her sleeve. "Was that okay? I wasn't sure what else to do."

Renee smiled, her expression one of gentle wisdom. "This is good news. It seems our little friend has taken quite a liking to you."

"So you think it really is the brownie?" Harper asked, her excitement bubbling over.

Renee nodded, her eyes twinkling with mischief and warmth. "Without a doubt, my dear. Brownies are fiercely protective of those they care for, and they have a knack for choosing their favorites wisely." Her lips curved in a satisfied smile.. "It appears you've gained a powerful ally in your workplace struggles, Harper. One who won't hesitate to defend you against those mean-spirited coworkers of yours."

Harper couldn't contain her grin. "I can't believe it! A magical creature is actually looking out for me at work. It's like something out of a fairy tale!"

"And what's best is, any mischief they may do, can't be brought home to you," Renee said, with a very cat-who-ate-the-canary expression on her dark face.

Harper chuckled as she confessed, "I had to buy cookies from the vending machine in the lunch room. I chose Lorna Doone because it was shortbread, which is Scottish. I thought that might be close enough to what brownies like."

Renee's laughter filled the kitchen, warm and rich. "Oh, Harper, you're a delight! That was a clever choice, indeed. Brownies would very likely have a fondness for Scottish treats."

Relief washed over Harper, her shoulders relaxing. She hadn't realized how tense she'd been, worrying about her impromptu offering.

"You know," Renee said, her eyes twinkling, "you're welcome to take cookies or pastries from the breakfast buffet every morning for your little friend at the bank. And Becca delivers fresh cream daily from her milk cow. You're welcome to take some of that too. You won't need much for the brownie."

Harper's eyes widened with gratitude. "Really? That would be amazing! I can't keep anything in the staff lounge fridge, I have to take the cooler, and lock it in my staff locker to be safe from the mean girls."

Renee's expression softened with understanding, her eyes warm and reassuring. "Of course, dear. We take care of our own here at the West Side Inn," she said, her voice gentle yet firm. "And it seems the brownie has decided you're one of its own too. You're part of our family now, Harper, and that means we look out for you. And that includes after you've moved into your own place. You're always welcome here as a friend."

Harper felt a warmth spread through her chest, a sense of belonging she hadn't experienced in a long time, not since she'd left home to go to college. She'd found not just a place to stay, but a community that looked out for each other. And now, she even had a magical protector at work.

"Thank you, Renee," Harper said softly, her voice thick with emotion. She blinked back tears, the warmth in her chest spreading to her cheeks. "For everything—the warmth, the kindness, the sense of belonging. I haven't felt this way in... I can't remember when. Since I left home to go to college, years ago." Her fingers traced the edge of the counter, grounding her in the moment, as she met Renee's reassuring gaze.

Renee squeezed Harper's hand gently. "That's what we're here for, dear. Now, why don't you take one of these brownies… no pun in tended… for yourself? You've had quite the exciting day, and these are still warm from the oven."

Harper accepted the offered brownie, still warm and gooey, wrapped in a napkin. The rich chocolate scent made her mouth water as she climbed the stairs to her room. Her footsteps echoed softly on the polished wood, each step bringing her closer to the sanctuary of her turret room.

Inside, she kicked off her heels with a sigh of relief and sank into the window seat overlooking the garden. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the grounds, painting everything in warm golden hues. She broke off a piece of the brownie, savoring the perfect balance of fudgy center and slightly crisp edges.

Reyna stirred contentedly within her. Safe den, the fox murmured. Good friends.

Harper smiled, understanding exactly what her fox meant. The West Side Inn had become more than just a temporary residence - it was beginning to feel like home. Between Renee's motherly care, the magical protection of the brownie, and the growing circle of supernatural friends, she finally felt she belonged somewhere.

She finished the last crumbs of her brownie, licking a spot of chocolate from her thumb, and watched the sun sink lower toward the horizon. For now, in this peaceful moment, all was right with her world.