Fairy Godmothers, Inc.

by Jenniffer Wardell

  “Sadly, only two of what appear to be several.” Lawton handed the letters to Jon, an unpleasantly solemn expression on his face. “As surprising as it is to believe, it seems your mother has been an extremely busy woman.”

  Jon scanned the first sheet of paper, feeling the headache develop before he’d gotten even halfway through the first paragraph. The queen had written the Dowager Queen Marietta of Over There, asking whether she knew any details about a princess or noblewoman in disguise who just happened to match Rellie’s description (an inaccurate one, of course—her hair was golden, not blonde). The queen was hunting for Rellie’s family, which meant her stepmother and sisters could show up any time now.

  “Not unless I drop dead first,” Jon muttered to himself.

  That bravado vanished as he scanned the second letter. He knew he shouldn’t be shocked, but it did nothing to ease the fury as he read it one more time to make absolutely sure the situation was as bad as he thought it was.

  He looked up at Lawton, who nodded gravely before confirming the unspoken question. “Unfortunately, your mother seems quite determined you’re getting married.”

  TWENTY

  A Fate Worse than Paperwork

  “It has come to our attention that several clients of Fairy Godmothers, Inc. have reported seeing an insufficient number of swans and trained doves during the use of the Official Fairy Godmother’s Incorporated Grand Entrance Accessories Package . . .”

  Kate closed her eyes against Bubbles’ voice, absolutely certain that coming back to the office was a sign her mind had actually snapped at some point during her nightmare of a morning. Deep down, though, she knew any chance of fixing the mess she’d made was going to be here at work, and if she didn’t want to make Bubbles suspicious she had to sit through this stupid meeting without screaming.

  After all, it wasn’t as if it was making it any harder to come up with the miraculous save-the-day plan she’d promised.

  “. . . use of at least one of the bird types included in the Royal Class B model is mandatory for all client packages—I’m not going to bother reading the last few paragraphs, which are mostly about copyright laws followed by a few carefully veiled threats about monitoring.” Bubbles looked up, eyes taking in the assembled Fairy Godmothers. “Rest assured, if management follows through it will be my threats you have to worry about. Are we clear?”

  Kate wasn’t paying enough attention to nod. The truth was, she had no idea what to do next—all the company files that even mentioned the love potion were encrypted, and both she and Ned had taken turns trying to guess Bubbles’ password until the security system tripped and locked them both out. Her next step—her last one, unless she had some completely unprecedented moment of genius—was going back to the secretary she’d bribed and hoped her ethics hadn’t improved much.

  One of the Fairy Godmothers was foolish enough to try and say something, but only got a few words out before Bubbles silenced him with a glare. Then she sighed, shaking her head as if she couldn’t imagine how she’d ended up working with such incompetents. “It’s this kind of ridiculousness that leads to such an inappropriately long turnaround time on cases. When I was out in the field, I completed several of my assignments in less than twenty-four hours.”

  Kate couldn’t be sure how much time they had. Rellie and Jon were clearly fighting the True Love as hard as they could, but the odds were stacked against them. The potion had to be terrifying if no one was willing to even gossip about it, and Kate’s stomach twisted at the thought of what would happen if a victim was practically soaked in an entire cooking pot full of the stuff. Even if Jon and Rellie hated each other, there might come a point where it wouldn’t matter.

  Kate’s eyes found Ned, hunched down in the furthest corner of the conference room. Bubbles had finally stopped beeping him for errands about a half-hour before the meeting started, and though he hadn’t dared to skip the meeting any more than Kate, he was currently doing his best to make sure his boss entirely forgot he was there. Only his leg, bouncing so much it was practically vibrating, showed the fear Kate could feel clawing at her own chest. They were the last people in the world anyone should be depending on to save the day.

  What if they weren’t able to do it?

  Up at the front of the room, Bubbles had built up enough steam in her list of grievances that standing up was the only way to make her disapproval sufficiently clear. “. . . You are the representatives of more than one hundred years of tradition, and you will fulfill your duties in a manner benefitting that tradition and the name of Fairy Godmothers, Inc.” She leaned forward, slapping her hand against the top of the table for emphasis. “We are supposed to be in control of each and every situation we come across, and if you cannot, I assure you that you’ll be pruned from the company even more rapidly than Thea was.”

  Thea. Kate’s mentally kicked herself. The answer had been right in front of her the whole time, and she hadn’t seen it.

  The patches.

  How could she have been so stupid as to forget the patches?

  Kate’s hands gripped the tabletop as a wave of exultation hit, her brain already calculating how impossible the idea would be to actually pull off. The lifeline they needed was still guarded by the local equivalent of a fire-breathing dragon—Bubbles. All she and Ned knew about the patches was that they were somewhere in her locked office, either in one of the (also locked) desk drawers, or a safe of some kind she could have hidden anywhere. And despite any minor breaking-and-entering skills Kate had picked up during her years as a Fairy Godmother, she was fully aware she didn’t know the first thing about committing an actual robbery.

  Not to mention Bubbles wasn’t about to let anyone leave the room. Unless she wanted to kill any chance they had now, the best thing Kate could do was finish out the meeting.

  “. . . these tulle skirts are an honor . . .”

  Once that had been taken care of, she’d figure out how to become a thief.

  Unfortunately, Bubbles must have been feeling particularly annoyed at their most recent performance reviews—Thea’s name came up a few more times—and it was almost an hour later before the meeting finally ended. Kate, who by the end had clung to patience with both hands, only barely managed to restrain herself from knocking everyone else over as she sprinted out of the conference room. Moving nearly as fast as Kate wanted to be, Ned grabbed her arm as they headed out the door. “Kate, we need to—”

  They both froze at the sight of a woman clearly waiting for them in the hallway. It was the same secretary Kate had been hoping to bribe again, looking nearly as annoyed as Bubbles.

  “Seriously,” the secretary said, “if all of you Fairy Godmothers made me leave my desk like this I’d never get any work done.” She strode toward them with one of the spare managerial wands stuck in the loose topknot of her hair. “I’ve beeped you three separate times, Ms. Harris, but apparently you felt the need to hide your beeper attachment in some deep dark hole this morning.”

  “I was in a staff meeting,” Kate said flatly, not caring about office politics. She still might have to bribe the woman, but right now she simply needed to get her out of the way. “Hold on for a minute while I hang my head in shame at having inconvenienced you.”

  Ned leaned close to her ear. “Is that really a good idea?” he whispered.

  The secretary just raised an eyebrow. After a couple of seconds, the corner of her mouth quirked and she nodded. “Fair enough.” Relaxed now, she pulled the wand out of her hair and turned to sketch the transport door. “It’s not me. Carlson needs to talk to you in his office.”

  Kate tensed, and Ned’s grip on her arm tightened enough to cut off blood flow. “Is it about the paperwork?” she guessed, trying to figure out whether Carlson could possibly know before Bubbles did. She knew Bubbles still didn’t know, because if she did there was no way Kate would have left the meeting alive. “Because I have a few more forms I didn’t want to rush through. I promise I’ll get everything to him f
irst thing in the morning.”

  The secretary snorted. “You seriously think that the board of directors cares about paperwork? They stack it around the edges of their desks to make themselves little impenetrable paper fortresses where they think no one else can see them.” She finished the door, turning back to Kate. “No, he has some people in his office he needs you to talk to in relation to your last case. A woman and her two extremely annoying daughters.” For a moment, she actually looked sympathetic. “If he tries to get you to give them freebies, just say no. It would take the entire company’s supply of True Love to get anyone to give either of those two a second glance.”

  Ned leaned close enough to whisper in Kate’s ear, ignoring the lifted eyebrow the secretary was shooting him. “What should I do?”

  Kate just shook her head. Ned gave her arm a quick squeeze before letting go and heading back to the cubicles. Ignoring the secretary’s smirk, she pushed past her and stepped through the gate. Once she was on the other side, she hurried on to Director Carlson’s office before the other woman had the chance to get both her feet on the ground again.

  When she arrived at the actual door, she stopped and took a deep breath before opening it. While she only had to keep her job long enough to steal the patches from Bubbles—at which point she’d be fired and face criminal prosecution—being fired early would make things much harder than they already were.

  She opened the door, pausing a moment to get her first and hopefully last look at Rellie’s stepfamily. Director Carlson leaned against the front of his desk, blond hair slightly mussed as he shifted enough to nearly knock over one of the stacks of paperwork. The three women sitting on the chairs in front of him, oddly enough, looked exactly like they’d sounded during that one overheard conversation at Rellie’s house—Belzie had angry little eyes to go with her rolls of fat, Lucinda’s mouth was stuck in a perpetual pout, and Maleeva was eyeing her as if she was a servant who hadn’t polished the silver as thoroughly as she should have. All together, they were the closest thing Rellie had to family, a thought that only managed to make Kate that much angrier at the universe.

  Wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible, she stepped inside and closed the door behind her. “You wanted to see me?”

  Carlson turned to her, eyes lighting with something that looked suspiciously close to relief. “Ah, yes. Just the Fairy Godmother we needed to speak with.” He gestured toward Maleeva. “These women are here to ask about . . .” The words trailed off a moment as his brow furrowed.

  “Cinderella,” Kate and Maleeva said at the same time, with almost the exact same snap in their voice.

  “Cinderella. Yes, of course.” His expression promptly smoothed out again. “These women are her stepfamily, and they have a few questions they were hoping to have answered about the follow-up to her Fairy Godmothers, Inc. package.”

  After shooting Carlson a glare, Maleeva turned her attention to Kate. “Given the fact that the palace held a formal ball last night and Cinderella was absent this morning during the time we normally insist on breakfast, I came to the conclusion that this oaf had finally decided to secure some long-term plans for the girl’s future. I will say, however, that his choice of her intended spouse was absolutely ridiculous—either one of my daughters would have made a far better wife for a prince—”

  “I would have made the best wife. Belzie’s so fat she wouldn’t even fit on the throne.”

  “They can always make me a bigger throne. Too bad they can’t make you a bigger brain.”

  “Children!” Once her daughters settled back into their earlier mulish silence, Maleeva turned back to Kate. “As I was saying, it’s become clear that Cinderella did not return to my home after the ball as would normally be expected, which means I am owed some information as to future proceedings. Given that on our way here we passed one of the city’s finest dressmakers hurrying to the palace with a carriage full of supplies, can I reasonably presume the prince has decided to eliminate the traditional kingdom-wide shoe-fitting, and move straight to the wedding?”

  The idea caused a fresh surge of panic to kick against Kate’s ribs, but after so many times in the same day it had lost the ability to rattle her. “I’m sure high quality dressmakers are regularly called to the palace,” she said, trying not to imagine the added level of mess this might mean for Jon. He had Lawton there to help deal with it, and she’d be there the second she figured out how to get the patches. “Though if it is preparation for a wedding dress, I’m not sure what your concern is. The reason Fairy Godmothers, Inc. phased the shoe-fitting out of their standard package in the first place is because of all the ‘emotional stress’ we were hearing from the stepfamilies.”

  “Oh, come now.” Maleeva huffed. “I’m certain that—”

  “‘Emotional stress’ is a polite way of saying they were cutting parts of their feet off to make the shoes fit,” Kate said.

  Director Carlson’s eyes widened again in surprise—Kate had thought he, at least, would have gotten the memo—and Maleeva and her daughters turned different shades of green at the thought. Lucinda’s lip even trembled. “Mother, you know I faint at the sight of blood! I can’t—”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Lucinda,” Maleeva snapped, the edge in her voice betraying her own reaction. “You know I can’t have you getting blood on my carpets.” Further comment seemed to escape her as the stepmother collected herself, using a single well-manicured finger to smooth an invisible hair back into place before returning her attention to Kate and the original conversation. “While some of us who have chosen this particular lifestyle are far more rational than others your company has apparently worked with, far be it from me to question your abandonment of such a long and rich tradition.” She sniffed, glaring sidelong at Carlson as if he was personally responsible for denying her the opportunity of being the first stepmother in history to pull a switch on the prince and get her favorite standing next to him at the altar. “With preparations for Cinderella’s wedding occurring even as we speak, I have a second, more immediate concern.” She leaned forward. “I am aware that her future husband’s family will be making the entirety of the arrangements, as is proper for royalty, and that would lead to the accommodations for the bride’s family. I’m sure they’re reasonable, educated people, but those of us who have dedicated our lives to being a proper wicked stepfamily hear . . . rumors.”

  It wasn’t until the expectant silence that Kate realized there had apparently been a question in the middle of all that. “I’m sorry, but I’m not entirely sure what you’re asking.”

  Maleeva pursed her lips in annoyance, but Belzie was more than happy to chime in. “She wants to know if they’re going to make her dance in red-hot iron shoes.” Her mother whipped around to shoot a furious glare at her daughter, but Belzie only snickered. “We still hear stories about when it happened to Grandma.”

  Kate opened her mouth, then closed it again. Her first instinct had been to lie and tell them Jon’s family was definitely a red-hot iron shoes kind of people, because the last thing they needed to throw into this mess was Rellie’s idiotic stepfamily.

  But there was a dressmaker running to the palace with a speed that suggested he or she was about to get a nice large paycheck. There was no information anywhere about whether or not True Love could eventually shut off all your decision-making ability or how fast that might happen, and Kate still hadn’t figured out how to commit the stupid robbery. More mess might not make things better, but it would certainly slow things down.

  She pasted on her warmest, sweetest client smile. “I can assure you Jon’s family would welcome you with open arms, and would be horrified to hear iron shoes were even brought up.” As their expressions relaxed somewhat, she took a step closer. “In fact, the decision not to include the shoe hunt was made by Fairy Godmothers, Inc., not the royal family. If you went over there right now, it’s entirely possible they would be willing to arrange one right there at the palace. I’m sure the prince
would be more than happy to accommodate his future in-laws.”

  Maleeva’s eyes actually lit, and Kate mentally added it to the list of things, for which she’d have to beg Jon’s forgiveness when this was all over.

  Hopefully, he’d give her the chance.

  TWENTY-ONE

  Fields of Battle

  Jon stared down at the chaos on the ground floor, more than a little disturbed by how close to self-torture this was. The True Love kept making him think ridiculously swoony thoughts about carrying Rellie up to the altar; and watching his mother and the dressmaker attempt to get her fitted for a wedding dress left him feeling both depressed that she was so clearly not interested, and nauseated at himself for feeling that way. He also couldn’t help but be embarrassed that he was hiding on the upper walkway rather than trying to stop her from being assaulted with seed pearls, despite that by doing so he was sparing her from feeling the same mopey self-disgust he suffered from.

  Of course, she was clearly doing a pretty good job of taking care of herself. The sheer entertainment value was more than enough to keep his feet rooted to the spot.

  “I told you!” she shouted again, swinging the bolt of silk wildly enough one of the assistants actually fell backward in an attempt to get away from it. The dressmaker himself had long ago backed out of range of any easily accessible weaponry. “I don’t want a wedding dress, I don’t want people sticking pins in me, I don’t want you for my mother-in-law, and I don’t want to get married! Why won’t you people listen?”