Excerpt
Chapter 1: Interview
The genie was shirtless, his skin a kind of burning red-orange color that reminded Alex of hot coals. He had these absurd muscles—huge, rippling piles of them, like a comic book character—and a wispy beard and moustache made of smoke. Alex tried very hard not to stare.
The genie had no trouble starting at Alex, though. "What is a Bagel Hut?"
"Ummm . . ." Alex found herself at a loss. "It's . . . it's a Bagel Hut. You know, where you get bagels?"
The genie squinted at the resume pinched between his long fingernails. His eyes were blazing yellow, like the bulbs of two flashlights. "What is a bagel?"
Alex had envisioned many bizarre ways this interview might have gone, but this one she hadn't anticipated. "It's . . . a . . . I dunno. You don't know what a bagel is?"
"Why would I ask you what a bagel is if I had the answer already? Do you think me a fool? A charlatan?"
Alex had an immediate answer for this particular question, but she held her tongue—an interview skill her mother had told her she needed to work on.
"According to this piece of paper, your only work experience is one summer working in a place called a Bagel Hut, and you cannot explain to me what a bagel is?"
"It's like a donut, but, like, not as sweet."
The genie looked confused. "What is a donut?"
"Jesus Christ, dude—google it, okay? You want me to explain what a shirt is next?"
"What secrets are you keeping from me about the Bagel Hut?" The genie shouted and fire leapt from the corners of his eyes.
"What?" Was she being pranked or something?
"If I were to call upon the master of the Bagel Hut and ask him . . ."
"Her."
The genie's mouth clapped shut. "What?"
"Her. My boss there was a woman. Ms. Partagas."
The genie took a long, slow breath, his absurd chest rising and falling in a way that made Alex think of glaciers and mountains and the movement of tectonic plates. "Do you commonly interrupt your master?"
"Master?!"
"Are you reliable?"
Alex knew at this point she ought to have said a variety of things—things her mother had coached her on, like "Ms. Partagas at the Bagel Hut trusted me to do inventory with her on Fridays" or "I'm my class treasurer at school!" But she didn't really feel like putting on a nicety-nice show for this guy, so she only offered the slightest of nods, trying to look away from the genie's blazing eyes, his pointy ears, the gold earrings in his pointy ears . . .
The genie threw the resume over his shoulder without looking. It flipped through the air and landed perfectly at the center of the bare desk that stood in the middle of the bare office, its edges aligned orthogonally with those of the desk itself. "Heed me, Alexandria Delmore: this duty which you intend to undertake is a heavy burden. Wishes are weighty things, and I have need of a mortal of unsurpassed constancy, lest this realm be laid to ruin at the feet of your own ineptitude. Is this understood?"
Alex frowned. "I'm going to be working in the mall, right?"
The genie gave her a grim nod. "Just so."
"And you want me to sell wishes?"
"Did not my advertisement in the Between Realm say as much?"
"Do you mean the Internet? Uhhh . . . yeah, I guess."
"And did I not swear to you that your toils shall be rewarded handsomely?"
"Also true . . . uhhh . . . genie? Gene? What do I call you?"
"You are not to call me genie—I will be known as 'Mr. Jinn'; is this clear?"
"You got it, Mr. Jinn, sir."