Lillian hesitated before she opened the main door to Bucknell, Radford and Godwin, LLC, Structural Engineers; the witch insisted she use the front entrance instead of the employee entrance. Just another dig, in a litany of insults aimed at Lillian. Well, I’m not going to let her win, Lillian thought firmly.

Lillian put on a smile and opened the heavy wooden door. The witch was standing beside the receptionist’s walled desk. "Good morning, Kalindi. Good morning, Ophelia." Lillian spoke the latter in a less cheery tone.

“Well, look at you, Lillian. Decided to wear a dress today?” Ophelia took a sip from her mug which read: “Today’s not your day...and tomorrow doesn’t look so good, either.” Ophelia touched her cheek with her red-tipped left index finger. “Hm-m-m..., it works, except for the granny Hushpuppy shoes.” Then she turned and headed for her office.

Kalindi made a sympathetic face. “One of these days, she’s gonna pay for all the insults she dishes out. Don’t feel too bad. She makes snide remarks to me, too.”

Lillian paused at Kalindi’s desk. “I know, but I’m her favorite target.” She moved on to her desk outside Emmett Godwin’s office.

She’d landed the job just three weeks prior. Mr. Godwin had told her the firm had seen a string of temps come and go before she arrived. Either they had been rejected by Ophelia or they had called the agency to say they wouldn’t go back on the Bucknell, Radford and Godwin assignment because of her.

“But I like you, Lillian. Please say you’ll stay. I’ll put my foot down with Ophelia,” he’d promised.

She needed the job very badly. Recently becoming the widow of a police officer, her part-time job had not covered half the bills coming in. She agreed to stay on. Against her better judgement.

Right after she’d become permanant, two weeks ago, Emmett Godwin had been called out-of-town to spec out a job. He was the junior partner while Gerald Bucknell and Charles Radford were founding partners and co-owners. Ophelia was very deferential whenever the partners were within earshot. But often they were behind closed doors or in the engineering studio, so Ophelia had plenty of opportunity to cut down the staff in myriad ways.

Lillian heard Ophilia swishing down the hallway. The witch had a thing for silks and satins.

“Kalindi! The coffee this morning this morning was too weak! I had to pour out both pots and make them over! I’ve told you and told you: six scoops per pot!”

Lillian perked her ears to hear what Kalindi’s response would be; perhaps she could learn how to deflect Ophelias incessant criticisms.

“B-but I did use six scoops.”

“Then either you used too much water or they weren’t heaping scoops! If this continues, I’’ll find someone who can follow directions!”

“Yes, Ophelia,” came the weak reply.

The witch swished back down the hall. Lillian looked busy lest Ophelia glance in and see she was listening to their none-too-subtle conversation. As Lillian scanned the faxes Mr. Godwin had sent overnight, a germ of an idea began forming in her head. By lunch the idea had taken full form. Now all she had to do was pluck up the courage to put it into action. She stood up from the breakroom table and glanced at the door. She’d have to make it quick.

At that moment, Ophelia walked in. “What are you doing?” she demanded, empty coffee mug at the ready.

It was now or never. “I, uh, couldn’t help but overhear your conversation with Kalindi this morning.” Her courage was flagging, but she rushed on, “My late husband...well, being a cop, he always liked his coffee extra-strong. I just thought...”

Ophelia tilted her head in such a way that her slight double-chin made itself present. “Did he now? A cop’s widow. That explains a lot. You think you could make coffee better than Kalindi?”

That last dig about her late husband did it. “Oh, I’m sure I could. I’d need to get here earlier, of course.”

Ophelia thought it over. Her love of strong coffee won out. “All right. You can use the employees’ entrance. But no key. Be here at 7:30.” She brushed past Lillian to refill her mug. “If it doesn’t work out, I’ll give the duty back to Kalindi.” As she turned around to go out, one of the engineering interns walked in. “Jeremy!”

He nearly jumped out of his skin and clutched his lunch bag to his chest. “Yes?”

“I haven’t received the inventory list I asked you for two days ago. I know you got my email. I got a receipt confirmation.”

“Mr. Bucknell has me...uh, verifying some stress factors.”

“What’s the deadline?” she snapped back.

“Friday by noon.”

“That’s plenty of time to do both. I want that inventory by Thursday at noon. I’ll tell Mr. Bucknell.” With that she swished from the small room.