“You’re too tense,” he says after we finish running through the section. Even though we’re done dancing, he doesn’t release me from his grasp. “Loosen up!” He shakes my right wrist so my hand flops around limply.

“Sorry,” I say quietly, pulling away from him. I think back to all the times I’ve seen him dance with Brittany or Ana to demonstrate some piece of choreography. They don’t get all weird and uncomfortable. Other witches in the cast have even asked him to help them with choreography. I just need to suck it up.

We run through the section again. He’s definitely a better partner than Kevin. He’s not as good as Ana, though. Plus, dancing with Ana doesn’t make me as horribly uncomfortable, which is an added bonus. I resolve to ask her to help me again so I can avoid this situation ever being repeated.

After several attempts at the choreography, he claps me on the shoulder and nods approvingly. “Better,” he says. “Better.”

“Thanks,” I say, relief flooding through me.

“Anytime. I’m always here to help.”

“I should go back to rehearsal before Brittany puts out a hit on me,” I say, backing slowly toward the door.

He laughs heartily and waves me off.

When I return to rehearsal, Brittany ignores me, which is honestly the best outcome I could have hoped for. Ana looks at me inquisitively as I move into my place in the number we’re rehearsing. But I say nothing.

Chapter 24

Ken Gardener, CEO of the multimillion-dollar magitech corporation PlexMatics, Inc., has been dogged by rumors of abusive workplace dynamics for over twenty years. A recent open letter, signed by six witches who are current or former employees of PlexMatics, Inc., claims that Gardener coerced each of them into sharing magic with him in exchange for promotions or other workplace advancements.

“It made him feel stronger than us,” said Rashida Page, one of the witches who signed their names to the searing open letter. “And he liked that.”

— “Ken Gardener’s Accusers Tell Their Stories,” The Wizard’s Daily Newspaper

On the Friday of the following week, Pilar puts me on prep work for the weekend orders in the back while Lex works the counter. Mrs. Morris shows up soon after we arrive, so I set myself up with crystals and an extra-large cauldron as far from the pass-through window as possible. Even at a distance, I can still hear Mrs. Morris’s quavery voice drifting through the pass. I can’t make out exactly what she’s saying, but I’m pretty sure she’s arguing with Lex about collecting a special-order potion that she didn’t put in a request for.