Leonard thought that maybe they could have bonded, both being cursed because of the actions of an ancient ancestor, but no. Jessica seemed to think that being a direct descendant of King Midas made her some sort of magique elite. Literally everything she touched turned to gold. She’d actually helped the League out a few times when they’d foreseen budget shortfalls, turning a few old vehicles to gold so they could be melted down into capital for the League.

By comparison, Leonard was just an oaf who bumped into things.

His only comfort was that the curse prevented Jessica from enjoying the fruits of her abilities–which he supposed was the definition of a curse. The stories about Midas emphasized his inability to eat or drink, but they didn’t mention anything about the gold disappearing from Midas’ hands when he tried to spend it. Jessica could help other people (or secret government agencies), but if she tried to hand her gold to someone in exchange for goods or services, it would fade into nothing. Her family had sent banks all over the world into a state of panic over the years, depositing huge piles of gold bricks, only for the vaults to be empty the next day and their accounts returned to their previous balance. Apparently, it was meant to teach Midas and his bloodline about selfishness and helping others. Magic could be a real pain in the ass sometimes.

Jessica was certainly imperious as Leonard spun around in the lobby like a doofus, trying to figure out where his desk had moved over the weekend. Any evidence that he’d ever worked there had disappeared, and was replaced with Jessica’s strange round “work module” based on some Swedish principle of open workflow and clutter destruction.

She settled her long-legged frame in her module, swishing her long sable-colored ponytail over the shoulder of her designer jacket. She dressed to impress, but somehow lacked the elegance that Sonja managed to exude so easily.

“Don’t bother getting comfortable,” she’d told him, shooting the cuffs of the prim white leather driving gloves she wore to keep her hands from “goldening” everything she touched. “I took the liberty of having your desk moved to the annex. It just makes more sense, as Jillian’s duties become more … limited.”

“I’m sure this has nothing to do with the fact that Jillian’s out of the office,” he deadpanned.

“I don’t know what you mean,” she said, smiling blithely as she entered her password into her computer.

“What’s next, you’re going to try to call a meeting of department heads without Jillian? Try to stage a one-woman coup over the coffee supplies?” Leonard asked.

“If you have a problem with the way I organize the office, you can always complain to the head administrator,” Jessica replied.

“You’re the head administrator,” Leonard said.

Jessica’s lips curled into a smirk. “Yes, I know.”