Page 46

Penny

BARRION HEATING & COOLING’S HEADQUARTERS IS ONE HUGE BUILDING, sleek and white, like a modernist interpretation of a cloud. It’s out of place next to the agriculture and the open sky, but it would stand out even more if the Barrions had put it closer to town, near the weathered brick buildings of downtown Idlewood or the sad, yellowed facade of the Walmart. Out here, the company stands on its own.

It looks noble. Unnerving, too.

Heart racing, Penny turns into the driveway. The security guard stops her, and Penny rolls down the window, trying to smile.

“Hi!” Penny says. “I have an appointment!”

Too much excitement.

“With…?” the guard says, and she only sounds twenty percent suspicious.

“I’m an intern with the Indianapolis Daily ,” Penny says. “I’m here to talk to the CFO about a piece we’re doing on Barrion Heating and Cooling. It’s for the business section? I scheduled the interview a few weeks ago.”

Too many details. Penny is not good at toning it down.

The guard checks her computer. “Don’t see nothin’ about that, but the CFO’s assistant isn’t great about updating her schedule.”

And then, miraculously, the guard opens the gate.

She opens the gate.

“Park in section E,” the guard says. “One of the visitor spots.”

Penny forces herself to drive through at a measured pace, even waving and giving an easy thank-you to the guard. When the gate is far behind her, Penny lets out a half scream, half laugh.

She did it. She actually got in.

After she parks among the rusted trucks and occasional Mercedes, Penny makes her way to what she hopes is the front entrance. There’s no clear signage, but people are filtering in and out of a set of automatic doors, some talking on cell phones and others in small groups, heads bowed, eyes tired. None of them notice Penny.

Apparently these adults don’t follow Dylan on social media.

The inside of the company looks exactly like the outside. The front desk is the same color and shape as the building itself, except it has an engraving on the front:

BARRION HEATING & COOLING: THE ELLIE CAMPUS

Unease crawls under Penny’s skin.

Everything about the building and the lobby is cold. This is the empire Corey is going to inherit one day. No wonder his shoulders sagged as he talked about it. Most people would say he’s lucky, but there are so many people working here, so much history to keep in mind, so much money on the line—in other words, there’s a lot at risk. And that burden will be Corey’s responsibility.

Penny walks to the front desk. Before she can say anything, the receptionist looks up from his computer.

“Penny?” he says.

Penny starts. “Aidan! I didn’t know you work here.”

“Yeah, for the summer,” Aidan says, adjusting his square-framed glasses. “My dad is a manager over in the plant, so he got me in.”

This is a completely different Aidan from the one Penny is used to. He’s dressed in a button-down under a V-neck sweater, and his blond curls are tame. He still wears at least seven earrings, and they’re all tiny and gleaming. He looks like a model.

“I heard what happened,” Aidan says. “You okay?”

Penny tries to smile. “Yeah. Fine. And Alonso—” She gasps. “Wait, does Alonso know you work here?”

“Oh yeah. He gets it. I mean, how else can we make money around here? He gets paid almost nothing at the record store.” Aidan leans forward conspiratorially. “And it’s worth it for the food. The café is beyond . They grow all their own vegetables and everything. This place is, like, a bastion of sustainability in our stupid state.”

“Besides the fact that they make air conditioners?”

“The eco-garden and solar panels probably make up for that,” Aidan says. “Anyway, what’s up? Are you trying to intern here?”

“Actually, I’m here because I’m writing a piece on… on how the company has overcome so many challenges.”

Aidan’s eyes go wide. “Oh yeah. There are so many stories, right?”

Penny raises an eyebrow. “Are there?”

“Didn’t you hear about that lawsuit a few years ago? I guess the founder—this was Charles Barrion’s dad—he actually started the company with a partner, but the Barrions forced him out in some dramatic takeover. The co-founder’s great-great-whatever-grandkid sued the company, but right as the case was about to go to trial, the guy won the lottery.”

The unease returns full force. “The lottery?”

“Yeah. They ended up settling outside of court, and the grandkid went on his merry way.” Aidan shakes his head. “The Barrions get a lot of lucky breaks, but that’s privilege for you.”

“Right,” Penny says, but something about that story doesn’t sit right. A month ago, Penny would’ve agreed with Aidan, but that was before she knew magic had played a part in all the deaths in Corey’s family—and possibly in the company’s success.

“So who are you here to talk to?” Aidan says.

Right. Penny has to keep her eyes on the prize. “Oh, I’m here for an interview—”

Someone interrupts her, his voice low and smooth.

“She’s here for an interview with me.”

Aidan stands up, clearing his throat. His pale face goes tomato red. “Good afternoon, Mr. Barrion.”

Penny’s breath catches. She turns around.

Corey’s grandfather stands a few feet away, a serene smile on his face. He’s holding a cane, but he’s not leaning on it. Maybe it’s decorative. It does lend him a certain air, like he’s an oil baron from 1895.

Penny clears her throat. “Hello, sir. I’m Penny—”

“Penny Emberly,” he says. “I saw the entry on our security log. So glad to finally meet you in person.”

“You know who I am?”

“Of course.” Mr. Barrion smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Why don’t we chat in the cafeteria?”

Penny forces herself to smile back, but she’s grasping for an excuse to leave. Corey’s grandfather has to know that she made the interview up. So why is he playing along with her lie? He has no reason to help her.

Unless he knows the curse is affecting her life, too. Maybe he feels bad.

Penny might be looking at this the wrong way. If anyone knows the history of this company, it’s Mr. Barrion. Penny can’t be direct with her questions, but she’ll be able to learn something , right?

Penny swallows. “Aidan was saying the food in the cafeteria is really good.”

“The blueberry-balsamic muffins are my favorite,” Aidan says.

Mr. Barrion inclines his head in Aidan’s direction. “Mine too. That’s why I brought the chef here. She used to run a kitchen at a Montana resort, but her talent was being wasted in the mountains. I offered to pay her double to waste it in Indiana instead.”

A rich-person joke. Aidan laughs on cue. Penny tries, but it sounds like a cough.

“Come on, Miss Emberly,” Mr. Barrion says.

Penny throws a weak smile over her shoulder at Aidan. “See you later?”

“Good luck!” Aidan whispers, throwing her a finger heart.

Mr. Barrion guides Penny to the pastry counter, where he picks out a bunch of pastries that Penny won’t be able to eat. She’ll be lucky if she keeps down a single bite. Mr. Barrion insists on carrying the tray with his free hand, and he leads her to an empty table next to the floor-to-ceiling windows, which look out on the green horizon.

“It’s been a long summer,” Mr. Barrion says once they’re sitting. “I think I’m ready for autumn. Change is good.”

“Sometimes,” Penny says, and then she presses her lips together. Is she allowed to disagree with him?

Mr. Barrion gives her a sad smile. “I heard about your mother’s accident. I’m very sorry, Miss Emberly.”

“Thank you, sir.”

A member of the staff wordlessly brings them a tray of water glasses with a plate of bright lemon slices. Penny thanks them, but Mr. Barrion doesn’t even glance their way. “My own mother lived a long life, so I’m afraid I can’t relate. But I did lose my wife, and quite a few other family members.”

“I’m so sorry,” she says, and she means it. She’s seen his wife’s face, heard her voice. Penny has seen the fire that killed her.

But that’s not all she’s seen. She sits a little taller, her guard going up. “I’m doing a piece on the resilience of your company. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?”

“Go ahead.”

“Thank you.” Penny opens the notes app on her phone. “So… you’ve worked at Barrion Heating and Cooling for a long time. What have been the greatest challenges to keeping the company profitable?”

Penny silently congratulates herself. She’ll keep her questions general for now.

“A good question,” Mr. Barrion says, his voice dripping with well-intentioned condescension. “When you work at a company of this size, flexibility is important. But not as important as creativity.”

“How so?”

“Challenging problems require complex solutions. If the department that manufactures condenser coils is low on staff, that will slow down the entire manufacturing process. But if we can’t find new employees right away, we’ll need to find a temporary solution that doesn’t slow down production, like increased hours. But increased hours mean there will be a higher likelihood of error, so what checks and balances do we put in place to ensure quality control?”

All of this makes sense. It’s also not what Penny wants to know. She clears her throat as she sits up a little taller. “Were there any times when… when the company was struggling?”

Mr. Barrion’s smile falls. “I’m afraid I can’t tell you the specifics.”

“Of course, I—I just thought that your experience could inspire people who are early in their careers.”

Mr. Barrion watches her with unblinking eyes. “Everything worth having requires sacrifice. Life won’t hand you what you want on a silver platter. Sometimes, you have to take it. That’s my advice.”

Sometimes, you have to take it. Just like he forced Giovanni De Luca to use his magic against his will.

“Do you ever regret it?” Penny says. “Has the sacrifice ever been… too big?”

Mr. Barrion interlaces his fingers. “Where will this piece run?”

“Oh, I—I’m working with the Indianapolis Daily —”

“You’re an intern?”

“Yes, sir.”

Mr. Barrion frowns. “I thought that newspaper shuttered its internship program.”

Penny stops breathing.

“Yes, I think it was budget cuts. They tried to offer unpaid internships, but you know how people react to things like that. They start crying about inequity, unfair labor practices, et cetera.”

Bad. This is bad. They’ve been sitting here for three minutes and he’s already caught her lie. She has to push back.

“I have a cousin there,” Penny says. “They made an exception.”

“Lovely,” Mr. Barrion says. “Well, now that I’ve answered your question, I’d like to ask you something.”

He didn’t answer her question, but Penny doesn’t know how to point that out. “Sure.”

“Is it true that my grandson has been spending time with you and Alonso De Luca?”

The shock that follows Mr. Barrion’s question is almost painful. Penny is so wildly unprepared for this that she simply stares at him open-mouthed.

“We’ve seen each other a few times,” Penny says. “Run into each other, I mean.”

“Interesting,” Mr. Barrion says, “because I have it on good authority that you’ve been seen around town quite a lot.”

“Definitely not,” Penny says quickly. “We barely know each other.”

“Hm.” Mr. Barrion considers the uneaten pastries. “Maybe I should be direct. I’m concerned for the safety of my grandson. I worry that he’s getting involved with the wrong people. While Corey is brilliant, I’m afraid he can be too trusting.”

The smart thing would be to make an excuse and leave. But hearing Mr. Barrion talk about Corey like this—as if he’s naive—it sets a fire in Penny’s chest.

“I think the opposite is true,” she says.

Mr. Barrion considers her. “Really? Tell me.”

Penny shifts in her seat. “Well, he… he really keeps people at a distance, and I think it’s hard for him to open up. He’s very concerned with protecting everyone. His family, his friends—”

“You?” Mr. Barrion says.

“Well, we’re friends, so I guess.”

“I thought you barely knew each other?”

Penny flinches. She can’t even keep her stories straight. “We didn’t. Not until a few weeks ago.”

“Well, Corey has good reasons for keeping people at a distance. We all do. But perhaps you already know that.”

The chatter in the cafeteria fades to a buzz. Because Mr. Barrion is talking about the curse. Openly.

Penny can’t let on that she knows. They can’t risk the Barrions finding out what they’re trying to do, even if it would help all of them in the end. Corey said if his family found out Alonso has magic, they would report Alonso immediately. They’d never have a chance to break the curse, and Penny’s mom would have no hope.

She needs to deflect. To escape.

“I actually have to— ouch. ” Penny flinches as her teeth come down hard on the edge of her tongue. She tastes blood, and she quickly grabs a napkin. “Sorry, I bit my tongue.”

Mr. Barrion pushes a glass of water in her direction. Penny grabs it, moves to take a sip—and pauses before the cup reaches her lips. It’s a reflex. It doesn’t even make sense to her, until all at once, it does.

She doesn’t trust him.

Mr. Barrion cocks his head. “Problem?”

“No,” she says, forcing herself to drink. The water cools her tongue and washes away the salt-and-iron taste of her blood.

“I’m not sure what you’ve heard about me, Miss Emberly. But I promise you, I want to help. That’s the only thing that’s ever brought me true fulfillment. That’s why I was so glad to know you were here.”

Again, that recoil. “You… you want to do the interview?”

“No. I want to give you a word of advice.” The smile disappears off his face. His watery brown eyes grow bright and sharp. “If you know what’s good for you,” Mr. Barrion says, “you’ll stay far away from the De Luca boy and the rest of his family. They’re dangerous people.”

Penny digs her nails into the skin of her legs. “Do you really think that?”

“Of course I do.”

“They never did anything for you? To… to help you?”

Mr. Barrion’s lips part, and for a moment, he is caught off guard. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“They can’t be all bad, right?”

“They are,” Mr. Barrion says. “Through and through.”

Except Alonso signed the blood oath. His aunts gave Penny pasta. She doesn’t know Alonso’s mom, but if she raised Alonso, she must be a good person—because Alonso is good. The bike polo, the way he jumped to Penny’s defense after what Dylan did to her, even setting the frogs free—none of that fits with the image Penny used to have of who Alonso was. Or the picture Mr. Barrion is trying to paint of him now.

“I appreciate the advice,” Penny says.

Mr. Barrion gives her a sad smile. “You don’t have to listen to me. It may not be my place to tell you how to live, but—”

“You’re right,” Penny says, standing up. “Thank you for your time.”

“I see. Certainly.”

The conversation is over, or so Penny thinks. When she’s only gone a few steps, Mr. Barrion says, “Penny?”

Penny looks over her shoulder. “Yes?”

“I’d appreciate it if you kept your distance from Corey, too. He doesn’t need silly little girls distracting him from what’s really important.”

Anger travels white-hot all through Penny’s body. She can’t keep the smile on her face anymore, but she manages to ask one last question: “Which is?”

Mr. Barrion smiles with too-white teeth. “His family, of course.”