Taking a deep breath, I stood. “Ow! Ow!” I squeaked, wincing.

“Oh, you have a pet ferret,” Sara Jane exclaimed softly.

I shut my eyes in misery. I wasn’t a pet ferret; I was a pet mink. Get it straight, lady.

I heard Trent rise from behind his desk and felt, more than saw, both of them come close. Apparently the interview was over. Time to ogle the pet mink. The light was eclipsed, and I opened my eyes. They stood above me, staring.

Sara Jane looked professional in her classy interview dress, her long, fair hair falling midway to her elbows in a simple, sparse cut. The petite woman was cute as a button, and I imagined most people didn’t take her seriously with her upturned nose, her high little-girl voice, and her short stature. But I could tell from the intelligent look in her wide-set eyes that she was used to working in a man’s world and knew how to get things done. I imagined that if someone misjudged her, she wasn’t opposed to using it to her advantage.

The woman’s perfume was strong, and I sneezed, clenching in pain.

“This is—Angel,” Trent said. “She’s a mink.” His sarcasm was subtle but loud in my ears. His left hand massaged his right. It was bandaged. Three cheers for the mink, I thought.

“She looks ill.” Sara Jane’s carefully polished fingernails were worn to almost the quick, and her hands looked unusually strong, almost like a laborer’s.

“You don’t mind rodents, Sara Jane?”

She straightened, and I shut my eyes as the light fell upon them. “I despise them, Mr. Kalamack. I hale from a farm. Vermin are killed on sight. But I’m not about to lose a potential position because of an animal.” She took a slow breath. “I need this job. My entire family scrimped to put me through school, to get me out of the fields. I have to pay them back. I have a younger sister. She’s too smart to spend her life digging sugar beets. She wants to be a witch, to get her degree. I can’t help her unless I get a good job. I need this job. Please, Mr. Kalamack. I know I don’t have the experience, but I’m smart and I know how to work hard.”

I cracked an eyelid. Trent’s face was serious in thought. His fair hair and complexion stood out sharply against his dark business suit, and he and Sara Jane made a handsome couple, though she was rather short beside him. “Nicely said, Sara Jane,” he said, smiling warmly. “I appreciate honesty above all in my employees. When can you start?”

“Immediately,” she said, her voice quavering. I felt ill. Poor woman.

“Wonderful.” His gray voice sounded genuinely pleased. “Jon has a few papers for you to sign. He will walk you through your responsibilities, shadow you for your first week. Go to him with any questions. He’s been with me for years and knows me better than I know myself.”