Fortunately, the health food section of the store was equally impressive, so she was able to find almost all of the ingredients she needed to stay reasonably fed. She stopped in the baking section and stocked up on spices and staples. She had a feeling she was going to need some chocolate and coconut sugar cookies, even if they weren’t a good substitute for real Girl Scout cookies. The produce section, tagged with a sign that said, “Proudly grown on local farms!” was stocked with over-sized, beautiful fruits and vegetables. She stocked up on strawberries the size of her fist, but noticed that all of the apple baskets were empty.

She frowned, staring down at the empty bushels. She had really been looking forward to some fresh apples. There were no Granny Smiths in Outer Mongolia.

“Apparently, they sell out of the apples really fast.”

Dani turned to find a tall, gorgeous blond man with a jawline like a ruler standing behind her. He was giving her a sympathetic look while holding up a bag of Bartlett pears the size of softballs.

“I’m not a pear person,” said Dani. “They’re too soft. As a fruit, that seems so non-committal.”

He snickered, his blue eyes crinkling behind black square-framed glasses. “Well, we’re fighting the entire town for supply. Apparently, this shifter lady grows them near a whole complex of bee hives and between the cross-pollination and the weird mojo in the air, they’re enormous and taste like the original apple of Hesperides.”

“That’s probably a reference I should understand, but I’ve been living in a yurt for the last six months,” Dani said.

“Well, that’s considerably cooler than my nerdy Greek mythology reference. I’m Rob Aspern, head of the League’s remote advanced math department. I’ve been spending too much time with the guys over in cultural anthropology.”

Dani extended her hand for a shake. “Danica Teel, independent consultant for the League, head of nothing. Advanced math has its own department?”

“Well, it’s me and one other guy,” Rob conceded. “But he has to use blue Post-It notes if I tell him to. So . . . yeah, I’m a pretty big deal.”

“You’re right, that does deserve its own department.”

“Nice to meet you.” Rob shook her hand and gave her a smile that had to be the product of expensive orthodontia and possibly a demonic bargain. “But in all seriousness, it has to be sort of nice, not to have to share your office space with anyone, right? Tell me of a room unoccupied by someone else’s crappy Spotify play lists or stinky yerba mate tea? Is it beautiful there?”

“I actually haven’t seen it yet.”

“What?”

“I just got into town and I’ve been more focused on settling in.”