Monday came too soon, even if it may as well have been continents apart from the Friday before. After a long and pleasant weekend to try and fail to forget, she was not happy with the first case at her desk.

“So Cary’s your name! Good morning, Cary-dear!” sang Iona, wearing a pink suit jacket over a cream button-up shirt. “Just in case you’ve forgotten, I’m your new friend, Beauty Dream! Oh, come now, don’t give me that pout. Smile like you’re on TV!”

My God, Cary thought, it’s like she’s a personality disorder that wants to be a real boy.

“So, making sure I have your legal, actual, what-I-would-put-on-your-resume name,” said Cary, giving her resume a wave as if to dispel glitter that wasn’t there, “It’s Iona Brown, correct?”

“Ring-a-ling! You’re right on the money!” said Iona, raising an index finger and spinning it in a halo. “Iona Brown! Twenty-three years old! Five-six! And my favorite color, as you can probably tell, is pink!”

“Right. Which brings me to my next question,” said Cary. “Why are you here?”

“To get a job!” Iona said.

“You have a job,” said Cary. “This is an unemployment office. Is there something about this arrangement you aren’t getting?”

“Mm,” said Iona softly. “That’s right! You don’t know much about DCT, do you?”

Nor they about Cary, or else they would have long known she wasn’t what her mom would call ‘cool with the kiddins’. “I think I heard a couple of your songs, and my tweenage cousin is a fan,” she said, “but that’s about as much as I know.”

“Yay, cousin fan!” said Iona, clapping. “Anyway, DCT is in a bit of a crisis right now.” Cary was shocked, as it seemed like Iona made an honest effort at a frown. “Just a little while ago, there...it was revealed that our manager did something really bad to one of our band members. Sexy Dream. Back when she was sixteen.”

“Oh,” Cary said. “It’s like a horrible joke.”

“I know, right?” said Iona. “Our label’s been put on hold since that man’s also our current producer. Even though Dusty didn’t do anything wrong!”

“So that’s why you’re here? You’re really worried about the band’s future?”

“Oh heck no! We sing to the hearts of millions, ” said Iona, returning to full grin. “But everyone’s really been on edge, you know? Our band, our fans, our friends...so think of this as a reverse jinx!”

“You lost me again,” said Cary, searching her brow for tension despite herself.

“It’s like this! I won’t say that Dream Come True is unstoppable, unbreakable, undefeatable, and forever resonating in the hearts our darling fans--even though it’s completely true, of course!” said Iona with a wink, “because that would jinx us. Instead we’re going to assume the nigh-impossible and prepare to enter the normal working world. Boom! Reverse Jinx!”

So you’re still wasting my time, Cary thought.

“Goodness gracious, you have lovely eyes,” said Iona. She was the same distance from Cary as the start of their talk, but Cary still darted back instinctively as if she leaned right into her face “And your eyebrows! They’re just so...big and dark! I love them!”

“Aren’t public figures supposed to be. Good? At not getting on people’s nerves?” asked Cary.

“But you’re beautiful, Cary!” said Iona. “Every girl has a beauty all their own, waiting to burst out and shine. But we live in a world where too few get the chance. Isn’t it sad?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t care,” said Cary. “I’m worried about bigger things than whether I turn heads on the sidewalk.”

“Poor thing,” asked Iona. “What’s getting you down, Cary-dear?”

“When are you going to get it through your head where this is?” asked Cary. She snapped an open hand to get attention, as if Iona’s wasn’t already rapt. “I worry about people not feeding themselves and not keeping a roof over their heads. They’ve got bigger things to worry about than being pretty, and so do I.”

Cary was expecting Iona to, at long last, stop smiling. It backfired, as her grin grew ever wider.

“Just as I thought!” she said. “You are beautiful, Cary. Your eyes shine, and your voice speaks with conviction. Without a doubt, you’re a beautiful girl!”

“Oh God,” Cary said, covering her eyes in her palm.

“I’m serious,” said Iona. “Believe in your beauty, Cary. When I see someone like you in a world where only a few girls can be beautiful and loved...it breaks my heart.”

“It’s not that big a deal for me,” said Cary. “I live for myself, so it’s fine.”

“Then you’ll love the homework I have for you!” said Iona. “I want you to dream, Cary. Dream of yourself as a beautiful girl, worthy of love!”

“Sure. Whatever,” said Cary, picking up the folder in front of her. It was annoying, but she felt a little more comfortable seeing a genuine shadow of humanity--or maybe natural human foible--in her new client.

“And that’s going to be your homework for the next time we meet!” said Iona. “I’ll be checking up on you then, Cary dear!”

“That’s one hundred percent not how this works,” Cary said. Ah, patience was nice while it lasted.

“Anyway, I have to dash for now!” said Iona, bobbing out of her chair with a small jingle from the bracelets on her wrists. “Make sure you dream, my Cary-dear! I’ll be looking forward to that bright smile next week. Ta-ta!”

“You can’t just leave. The meeting’s not over,” said Cary, blithely matter-of-fact as Iona turned on a heel and trotted toward the door. “If you’re serious about this job, you need to--and, she’s gone.”

As a door clammored shut in the distance, Cary was reintroduced to her silent, empty cubicle, an unworked case file, and forty-five minutes worth of nothing since her case had bolted early.

“Wow, that went awesome,” she said. “Just amazing.” Cary was not the type to talk to herself, nor was she the type to develop a stress headache before noon. This Monday was a day of many firsts.