After Slaly left, humming a cheery tune all the while, Susannah decided to sleep in and open late. She earned it. Thankfully, this time, there was no rush of people. In fact, even by Swamptown standards, the rest of Wednesday was slow.
On Thursday, she began employee hunting. Not literally, of course. Despite a startling amount of evidence to the contrary, she wasn’t a savage.
Susannah had never employed someone before. She imagined she had to go about it in much the same way she had gone about trying to advertise: talk to Karulk.
This came with one major con. She was going to have to talk to Karulk, after avoiding him yesterday. Although avoidance might be too strong of a word. It was more of a coincidental stumble in the opposite direction of the approaching company. When he tried to come by a little after lunch, her front door was suddenly, willfully disobedient about opening for him. When he tried to come by after dinner, she closed early, and went upstairs to the living area of her building and watched him through a window until he left.
This was very rude, Susannah was aware. She liked meeting new people, she really did, but continuing to have a connection to them afterwards, and/or having an extended conversation with the new person made her awkward. It had yet to be terminal awkwardness, but the earth had once grown eyes and started to judge her in need of a good swallowing, so it was doubtlessly getting there.
Being swallowed by the earth was a terrible way to go, no matter what people said about it in the moments before.
Susannah had no idea what Karulk’s hours of operation were. She debated using this as an excuse not to try, because Susannah was nothing if not a quitter when things got slightly inconvenient for her.
She dithered over this the whole morning, making herself a cup of coffee and then not drinking it.
Ultimately, the dilemma was solved by Karulk himself. He came through the door bare minutes after she flipped the sign to open, its enchantments alerting the front door to allow entry, and the windows to lose their ominous tinting.
“Hello there Susannah– whoa! Did you get a haircut?”
Susannah reached up and brushed a hand along her hair. It was in a short, blonde bob. Very different from Tuesday’s red curls. “No, it just decided to be like this today.”
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Karulk blinked in alarm. The magic of the world often exerted itself in weird and wondrous ways, in a manner that happened too often to be anything but a pattern, but was always different and as such spontaneous. Physically changing someone was rare, without outside intervention. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. It’s genetic. I always look slightly different each day. Then a whole week goes by and my features have changed so much I look entirely like a different person.”
“Huh… Well ain’t that something. I’m glad to see you’re still here. After I dropped by yesterday and couldn’t see nobody I had thought you were scared off.”
“I’m a tough cookie. Not that I overbake my cookies. My cookies are great. Soft and crumbly. Except for the ones that are supposed to be chewy.”
“Right. Well, it’s good you survived Tuesday. It’s always the Tuesdays that scare ‘em off. I just wanted to check in, say hello. Say, maybe I should try a cookie? Do you have anything this early?”
“Of course I do. I get up a couple hours early to make everything, before opening. What would you like?”
“Something simple.” He peered into the case. “You met your landlord, right?”
“Mr. BonJaeveson III.5? Yeah, we met.”
“Did you notice?” He looked up from the case, then quickly back down, squinting.
“Notice?”
“I’m no gossip, but surely you saw that he was a bit… off.”
“If you’re talking about the fact that he was a vampire, then yes, I saw. It’s not a big deal to me, though.”
“Vampire? Naw, he’s no vampire. I meant that he’s… mob.”
“Mob? Like, mafia?” Susannah wanted to add something like, don’t be ridiculous, or, are you high? but didn’t want to offend him. “No. I… don’t think so. Changing the subject, do you know anyone who needs a job? ‘Cause I’ve got openings.”
“Certainly!” Karulk moved away from the case with a great cheeriness in his posture, and it was then that Susannah realized he was only using the cookies as a polite cover to keep talking to her without getting kicked out.
This was somewhat disheartening, though she couldn’t quite say why. The insult to her baking skills? The fact that he thought she was so rude? Something else?
Susannah zoned out of her feelings, back into the real world, and realized that Karulk had been talking.
“--send some people your way tomorrow. Sound good?”
She tried to replay the last bit of what he said in her head, but failed. She had been well and truly not paying attention. “Great, thanks.”
“Alright! I’ll see you then.”
Wait, that sounded like more than helping to give her employees. What had she just agreed to?