Fairy Godmothers, Inc.

by Jenniffer Wardell

  Jon winced in sympathy for the guard as he heard Kate smother a snicker.

  There was another slap, but the other sister—Lucinda, he recalled—was right there to pick up the refrain. “You said Cinderella was going to take care of this! Having a poor, tragic stepsister we abuse was supposed to get us invited to things!”

  The second sister gave a nasty chuckle. “What she didn’t mention is the stepmother of that poor, tragic girl usually ends up being forced to dance to death in red-hot iron shoes . . .”

  There were two more slaps, both at once, then another set of two that seemed to come from the opposite direction. At that point, the slapping noises became so frequent that Jon lost count, and with a look at Kate they began the long process back to the kitchen.

  Once they’d made it back to the relative safety of Rellie’s corner, Kate practically sagged in relief. Rellie sat back down on the bed, eyes still wide enough that there could be a real risk they’d be permanently stuck that way.

  Jon ran a tired hand through his hair. “I know they’re technically going to end up being in-laws, but would you mind if Rupert permanently bans those three from the palace? We tend to torture people with canapés instead of anything fatal, but there’s no need to make the royal family suffer.”

  Kate straightened, smoothing a hand over her hair as she pulled herself together. “I usually suggest it—it never works to reform them, no matter how often the client insists on trying.” She glanced over at Rellie, then leaned in closer to Jon and lowered her voice again. “What’s Rupert like, by the way? I know he’s a rake, which I’m pretty sure Rellie won’t even notice if he buys her some pets, but if he’s not at least nicer than her stepfamily then I’m going to have to come up with something.”

  “He’s fairly nice even when compared to normal people,” Jon assured her. “He’s not exactly the sharpest sword in the armory, but he’ll buy her an entire zoo just for being less trouble than his mother is.”

  Any further observation was cut off when Rellie blinked and shook her head before focusing back on Kate. “This is really interesting and all, but can we get back to my dress? If I can’t ask Maleeva, I’m going to have to keep trying and trying things until I find out what I like . . .”

  “No.” Kate said firmly, then shot a worried glance in the stepfamily’s direction. Lowering her voice to a whisper, she held a warning finger up in Rellie’s direction. “The one you have right now is just fine.”

  At Rellie’s pout, Kate sighed. “Okay, fine. You can give me some suggestions. But Jon has actually spent time in the palace—he goes first.” She turned toward him. “Anything else you think Prince Rupert might be looking for in a woman?”

  Now it was Jon’s turn to sigh. “Cleavage.”

  Kate chuckled. “At least you’re honest.” Turning to Rellie, she said, “Okay, your turn. Any changes you want made that won’t injure the people around you?”

  Rellie twirled a lock of golden hair, thinking a moment. “These sleeves are too floppy. Can you make them shorter and poufier? And add some more sparkles.” Her eyes widened as she remembered. “But only a little bit more. Not like the later stuff.”

  “And whose idea was the ‘later stuff?’” Kate muttered. Still, the wand came up and around in a different pattern, the magic dust came out again, and when it was gone Rellie’s dress was only little more sparkly than it had previously been. The girl jumped up and down and clapped her hands. Kate nodded in satisfaction. “Perfect. Now we just have to get you to that ball, nudge that Prince in your direction, and all of us can get a decent night’s sleep.”

  A clock chimed in the distance, enough to trigger an unfortunately relevant memory in Jon’s brain. Briefly, he considered trying to take care of the problem without warning her about it, but one lie of omission was more than enough for a potential relationship to deal with. “You’ll never know how much I hate to say this, but there might be more to it than that.”

  Both women’s heads whipped around to look at him, and he could already see the dread settling in Kate’s face. Sharing some of the same feeling, Jon took a deep breath and continued, “This morning starts the beginning of fancy banquet season at the palace. There’s not another fancy dress ball scheduled for at least the next three months. Were you planning on having to wait that long?”

  FIVE

  Technical Difficulties

  Kate glared down at the folder in her hand, wondering if turning it into a snail would make her feel any better. “Not a single detail about the ball she’s supposed to be going to, just a vague assumption that one would magically show up when we needed it.” She squeezed her eyes shut for a few seconds. “How long has this fancy banquet season been in effect?”

  “Ever since the current king and queen took the throne.” Jon was sitting beside her now, the worry audible in his voice as his hand rubbed gentle circles along her back. She wished more than anything that she was in any condition to suitably appreciate it. “It’s the only time of year the queen’s willing to wear the same dress more than once.”

  “She sounds like one of our clients.” Kate took a deep breath, reminding herself to be calm. The only way this was going to get solved was if she came up with the solution, and that wasn’t going to happen if she was busy wishing terrible things on management. “Is there any way someone else in town is rich enough to be holding a ball in the next few days?”

  When Jon shook his head, Rellie bounced off the bed and moved toward them. “How does he know that sort of thing and you don’t?” She peered hard at Kate as if waiting for an answer, then went on before anyone had time to come up with a good enough lie. “And seriously, aren’t you supposed to have the ball ready before you even come see me?”

  “Usually, it’s at least a month between when a job gets booked and when a Fairy Godmother is sent out, mostly so that someone in Research can make sure there’s a fancy dress ball going on when we need one.” Kate scowled, cursing herself for not thinking of this when Bubbles handed her the assignment. Not that it would have changed anything, but . . . “I should have known Bubbles wouldn’t think about a little thing like prep time when she had a chance of making one of the directors happy. She claims she is capable of walking on water when she is out in the field, so she expects us to do the same.”

  Rellie moved closer, fascinated. “There’s actually a real person named Bubbles? Does she wear pink and giggle a lot?”

  Kate squeezed her eyes shut at the visual conjured by Rellie’s questions. “Only when she’s had too much to . . . oooh.” The sensation of Jon’s fingers gently attempting to work out the dozens of kinks in her neck chased away any remaining words. “Don’t . . .” An embarrassingly pleased noise cut off the rest of the sentence, and she found herself tilting her head back in a completely involuntary gesture. This . . . this . . . was probably not a good idea. “Don’t . . . do that, really.”

  Jon instantly moved his hand away, unfortunately, doing exactly what she’d told him to. After a second, he rubbed a hand across the back of his own neck. “Sympathetic muscle aches,” he muttered, not looking at her. “Just trying to get them at their source.”

  Worried suddenly that she’d embarrassed him when he was undoubtedly just trying to be nice—and more worried that she kept caring so much about what he might be feeling—Kate touched his arm. When he turned to look at her, a little reluctantly, she offered him a sheepish smile. “Thank you. It was . . .” She took a deep breath. “It was really good. It just . . . makes it a little hard to think.”

  Jon grinned, looking more than a little relieved. “I know what you mean,” he said softly, and Kate realized suddenly how little distance there was between them at the moment.

  “You know, Jon,” Rellie cut in, down on her knees now and watching them with enraptured interest. “If you managed to magically come up with one of those fancy dress balls Kate’s been talking about, she really looks like she’d be willing to kiss you right now.”

  “Rellie,” K
ate growled, pushing herself forward to properly lunge at the girl and cut off any more useful observations she might be interested in making.

  Then Jon’s voice cut in, suddenly thoughtful. “Actually . . .”

  Surprised, Kate looked back at him. “You can find me a fancy dress ball?”

  “Possibly, though that depends on how much emphasis you’re placing on the ‘you.’” Jon hesitated. “I might have some vague chance in getting the queen to ask for one, but with this little lead time I’m not even sure she’d be enough to persuade Madame Stewart to marshal her forces and get everything pulled together. For something like this you’d have to go straight to the Madame herself, the queen’s personal entertainment organizer, and she won’t even give me the time of day after that unfortunate incident with the ice archer.

  “I doubt I’ll be able to convince the woman of anything on my own. But she loves Rupert, both because he’s pretty enough he matches the statuary, and he actually enjoys eating those disgusting canapés she makes. If I can convince him to persuade her that we need a last-minute ball, we should be fine. And if I mention there’s more alcohol at a fancy dress ball, and that fewer people will accidentally try and carry on an intelligent conversation with him, I won’t have any trouble getting him to agree with me.”

  Rellie perked up at this. “Do you think I could learn to get him to agree to stuff that easily?” she asked.

  Kate blinked, surprised. If Rellie’s advisors could keep her away from bunnies long enough, there was a chance the palace wouldn’t know what hit it. “Well, that’s certainly something to look forward to, isn’t it?” She pushed herself to her feet, forcing a brightly pleasant tone to her voice. “So, now that Jon’s saved our lives as far as the ball is concerned, do you think we can finish up quietly enough to not blind me or catch your stepfamily’s attention?”

  There was another pause, just long enough to draw attention to itself, before Jon stood. “I need to go,” he said, voice as equally bright and pleasant as Kate’s. “It tends to unnerve the palace guards when anyone but Rupert wanders in after two o’clock in the morning.”

  Kate’s stomach sank. She had barely known him for an hour, and now she was never going to see him again. Why was the second goodbye so much harder than the first? “So when are you coming back?” asked Rellie. She busied herself by smoothing her big pink skirt out around her into what she probably considered a more pleasing shape. “Because I’ve got a lot of toiling and scrubbing I have to do during the day tomorrow, but I should be free after everyone else goes to bed.” As if realizing something, she turned to Kate. “How long is this going to take, by the way? I mean, I’d love to have you guys come over again, but I’m sure there’s more to this Fairy Godmother stuff than just hanging out with the clients.”

  Kate sighed, brushing her hair behind her ear as she gave Jon time to exit gracefully. It would be better if she didn’t have the opportunity to watch him go. “I’m not sure yet when the ball will be, but I’m definitely going to get everything else done as soon as I can, within a week. We’ve got the dress taken care of, but we’re going to need shoes, a carriage . . .”

  “Dancing lessons,” Jon added. He lifted his chin as Kate turned to look at him, confused. “For some reason, Rupert decided to actually pay attention during all of those dancing lessons the queen made him take. If Rellie doesn’t have at least some idea of where her feet go, her big moment is going to be ruined when she trips over her skirt.”

  Kate hesitated, not quite certain where this was going. “She’ll just have to move slowly and trust me to make sure the song ends early.”

  “Or I could teach her.” Jon raised an eyebrow, a hint of challenge in his voice. “And you, too, for that matter. It’s not nearly as painful and complicated a process as etiquette teachers make it out to be.” The corner of his mouth curled up into a half-smile. “Who knows, you might even like it.”

  So, that was what people meant when they talked about a person’s heart skipping a beat. “But—”

  She felt a tug on her skirt from Rellie. “I’m not sure about this whole dancing thing, but if I trip I might tear the skirt of the really neat dress you made me.” The girl made her eyes go big and plaintive as she batted her lashes up at Kate. “Do you really want to have to go through all the yelling it took to make it all over again?”

  “She’s right,” Jon teased. “Think of the poor dress.”

  Kate stared hard at Jon for a long moment. “Thursday night, then? Ten o’clock?” she asked finally, still waiting for him to say no. It was absolutely ludicrous to expect someone to have their schedule open with only two nights advance notice. “Just across the street?”

  Grinning, Jon nodded. “Thursday night it is.” Looking very satisfied with himself, he rubbed his hands together. “Now, does anyone know how I’m going to get past that dog and Rellie’s stepfamily with all of my body parts intact?”

  After Jon had made a relatively dignified exit through the window, Rellie practically bounced to her feet. “That was fun to watch, but it’s probably time to get back to me now. Didn’t that contract you mentioned say something about you having to make me pretty shoes?”

  Kate forced her still-jumping insides to settle and refocus on the business at hand. “Yes, I’m going to make you some pretty shoes.” She took a quick look around the barren room, searching for the client folder she had tossed. Unfortunately, a quick look didn’t do it, and Kate had to get down on her hands and knees to peer into the herd of dust bunnies that had colonized the area under the bed. “You know, I thought tragically abused stepdaughters were supposed to be good at this whole cleaning thing.”

  Rellie made a face. “Do you know how gross dirty things can be?” Leaning over the foot of the bed, she reached into the mass of dust bunnies and magically pulled out the folder. “Besides, I’m getting better at finding stuff. I even figured out your guys’ secret.”

  Kate’s head shot up at that last snippet of insight. “Oh, really?”

  “Yeah—it was easy.” Distracted momentarily by a hot pink sticky note peeking out from the file’s edge, Rellie sat back on the bed and began thumbing through the pages for it. “I mean, come on, how could a Fairy Godmother’s assistant be a guy . . .” She looked up for a moment. “He could be a Fairy Godfather’s assistant if there was one. But that would say he was assisting a Fairy Godfather, which you are not. You may not be old, but you’re still totally a girl.” She paused. “You guys really need to sort this out.”

  Kate sat down, taking a few seconds to work her way back through Rellie’s tangent. Thankfully, none of it seemed like anything that would come back and bite her later, so she relaxed. “It may sound silly, but we’re all supposed to be called Fairy Godmothers, no matter our gender. It’s the name of the company, and the employees are representatives of the registered trademark, that sort of thing.”

  “Oh, okay,” Rellie replied, the whole thing clearly already beyond her comprehension or caring. “But since the other guy’s clearly just somebody from the palace and not really a fairy anything, I can just call him Mr. Assistant Guy, right?” Finding the sticky note somewhere in between disclaimers and a list of house entrance protocols, she triumphantly peeled it off and stuck it on the wall. “Or your lover bunny, if you’d like that better. I wish I could give you more options, but lover opossum and lover chicken just sound silly.”

  It took Kate a second to realize that her mouth was hanging open. “Lover . . . chicken . . . we aren’t—didn’t . . . I . . . ah . . .” She decided to stop talking before she came off looking like an even bigger idiot than she already did. “He has a name, you know—Jon.”

  “But that’s just so boring. Mr. Assistant Guy is more fun to say.” Rellie leaned forward and handed Kate the folder. “Now, let’s get back to my cute little shoes. I think it’d be the very best if they were—”

  “Pink. Yes, I know.” Grateful that the topic had moved to much safer ground, Kate turned the file around and start
ed flipping through it. “But they recently redid the minimum requirements for the shoe portion of the package you’ll be receiving, and if I don’t take that into account now I’ll probably end up having to redo the shoes entirely. Ah, here we are.”

  “Oh, let me read it. Please, please let me read it,” Rellie chimed in, doing a miniature version of her usual bounce. “It’s not like I’m going to get the chance to do this sort of thing again, and I don’t want to get to be a wrinkly old woman and suddenly think I missed out on something.”

  Kate just looked at her. “If you think reading files is exciting, you really need to get out more.”

  “Probably.” She shrugged, completely unconcerned. “But isn’t that what this whole thing’s about? Me getting a little action?”

  “Action? Do you even know what that—” Kate stopped, deliberately shutting her eyes for a moment. “Never mind. You’ve got the nasty habit of answering questions like that honestly, and I’ve suddenly realized that I don’t want to know.” She held the folder out. “Start in the middle of the second page, under ‘footwear specifications.’”

  “Sure.” Plucking the folder from Kate’s hand, Rellie dropped it on her lap and furrowed her forehead in what was no doubt an adorable manner. “Such tiny writing—no cute curlicues or anything. Let’s see, ‘The shoes must of course be the pin . . . pinnacle of the girl’s look, like delicate little jewels pointing the way to the young prince’s heart.’” She wrinkled her nose. “That’s dumb. Why would a guy care about what shoes I was wearing?”

  “Let’s just say the guy who wrote the manual was a very interesting person.” Kate shook her head. “Just keep going, okay? I’ll explain later.”