by Katya Moore
I couldn’t resist peering past him. The room was vast, filled with row upon row of clothing racks. With six or seven costume changes per show, I couldn’t fathom how many dresses Andres had to manage.
We reached the Sanctum doors and my attention snapped back to my employer. She smiled at me over her shoulder, then threw the doors open with a theatrical flair.
It was as breathtaking as I dreamed. The walls were shrouded in yards of white gauze. Tiny fairy lights flickered through the highest reaches, like captive stars. A pair of willow trees stood on either side of the room, their branches woven together to form an arch. A stream ran through the center of the room, fed by a small waterfall in the corner.
She led me over a small bridge to a sitting area across from the waterfall. The chairs were wrought iron, woven from the same twisted vines and morning glories that graced her face. I sank into the plush white cushions that padded them.
She nodded at my hands, and I gasped slightly as I realized I was still carrying two cups of coffee. I set them gingerly on the glass top of the table between us. She winked at me, reached over, and took Trixie’s mug.
“You’re even smarter than they say. You even know my coffee order.” She raised the cup in my direction, then took a long sip. Silently, I prayed that Trixie had washed that cup recently. I knew for a fact that she would never wash it again.
“Yours is getting cold,” she said lightly.
I picked up my cup with trembling hands and took a sip. I couldn’t taste it. Adrenaline drowned my senses.
“What can I do for you, ma’am?” I finally managed to say.
Her laugh was light, tinkling, like distant bells. “Straight to business, then?”
I stammered. “I know you’re a very busy woman. I… I just don’t want to waste your time. Ma’am.”
Her smile radiated through me, warm as sunshine. “Time with my people is never wasted. Please. Tell me about yourself. What brought you here?”
My mind went blank, but the words poured out of my mouth before I could stop them. “I was a doctoral candidate in Language Acquisition at Brown University. Three days before my defense, my father… passed away. I… he and I hadn’t spoken in a few years. I didn’t even know he was sick. So, it hit me hard. I…” I stared into my coffee, but the words kept coming. “I walked away. Ran away. Ran back home to my mother. I didn’t know what to do. Academia was my life. My everything. I was going to be a professor. I was going to teach. My whole identity was there.”
“A lost soul,” Glory whispered. She reached a hand across the table. “I collect those.”
I felt my lip start to tremble and bit it, hard. I was not about to bawl in front of the Queen of Modern Music.
“Your social media manager was a friend of mine from undergrad. She told me that you had a world tour coming up and that there were some problems with communication. That you needed someone who knew languages.”
“We needed you.” She touched the back of my hand with her fingertips. “Your gifts. Your talent. Your drive.”
I swallowed hard. “I don’t know about all that…”
She made a soft tsking sound. “I’ve been all over the world, and I’ve never met someone with your gift for language. How many do you speak?”
I smiled self-consciously. “Fluently? About twenty. But, if I hear or read something in a language I don’t know, I can usually figure it out, given enough time. That’s why I was studying language acquisition. I… I wanted to figure out how I did it. Why I could do what I do.”
Mother Glory leaned back in her seat with a satisfied look on her face. “You are a gift, Alex. A treasure.”
My cheeks burned. “I…really don’t know about…”
She shook her head and her eyes narrowed in a stern look. “You are a treasure. I don’t bring people into my home lightly.” The smile returned. “You’ve heard my songs. You know that I believe everyone is sacred, everyone is full of a special light.” I recognized the words from Spirit Glow and nodded. “I only bring the brightest lights into my inner circle, Alex. And you are a bright light.” Her hand caressed the pendant around her neck. She dropped her gaze for a moment, then met my eyes with an intensity that set me back in my seat. “I need your light. Not just for my tour. For a private matter.”
My heart pounded in my chest. “Anything,” I whispered.
She smiled at that. “Tonight. Meet me here at eleven o’clock tonight. The staff will be gone, but security will know to let you in.”
“Y…yes, ma’am.”
“Please. Call me Glory.”
I floated back to my desk, blissfully oblivious to Raul’s snarl and the whispers of my colleagues.
Trixie stared at me, jaw slack.
“That was a hell of a coffee run, girl,” she murmured, voice full of admiration.
I ducked my head and laughed. “Good news travels fast.”
“Good news?” she squawked. “You went to the Inner Sanctum! No one goes into the Inner Sanctum! There’s, like, one maid, and her manager, and her stylist, and now you. Even Raul hasn’t been in there, and he’s been kissing her ass since puberty!”
I thought I heard a hissing sound. I ignored it. I was flying too high to care.
“So?” Trixie stared at me, tapping her fingers on her desk. “Details?”
I unlocked my computer and sighed. “It was amazing. It was just this oasis of calm. I can see why she doesn’t let people in. I could have spent the rest of my life there, just floating in it. I felt like I could do anything, say anything…”
It was coming back to me now. I remembered what I said. My butt landed back in my seat with a thud.
“Oh god. I told her I bombed out of my grad program. Why did I tell her that?” I buried my face in my hands and groaned. “I gain an audience with a superstar and I tell her what a failure I am. Ugghhh.”
Trixie reached over and patted my arm. “Hey now. Easy. She gets that. You’ve read her bio. She did her time in dive bars and hellholes before Peytor Spark saw her MyTube video. Everyone needs their break before they can shine.” She squeezed my arm tight. “And now you have yours. She’s noticed you. That can only mean big things.”
I dropped my voice to a bare whisper. “She has a special project for me tonight.”
Trixie gasped, then slapped her hands over her mouth as if trying to recapture it. “My god, girl. You’re in. What could it be?” She gasped again. “Maybe she’s taking you on tour with her! Maybe she needs a personal interpreter!” She grinned. “Maybe she has a secret admirer and she needs you to translate the love letters!”
“No idea.” My heart was pounding again. “But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t excited as hell.”
“Get it, girl. Just remember who got you the job.” She winked at me and turned back to her computer.
“I’ll never forget it.” I beamed at her. “Thank you, Trix. I owe you everything.”
“You owe me a coffee. Where’s my mug?”
Her squeal nearly shattered my monitor.
Coffee run, round two.
I set the barista-bot to brew and pulled my phone out of my pocket. I had to call her. I just had to.
“Little Leaves, how may I make your day better?” The voice was tranquil, soothing, so utterly unlike my own clipped tones. All my life, I’d wondered how she kept that calm. I’d tried to disrupt that tranquility many times, but never succeeded.
“Just by hearing your voice, Mom,” I replied with a smile.
“Sweetheart! Hi!” I could hear the chatter of the tea shop fade into the distance, then heard the door to the back room close. “Tell me all about your day.”
So I did. I gushed at her about my close encounter with Glory, about being invited into the oh my god actual Inner Sanctum, about being chosen for her special project. Mom was the perfect audience. She oohed and aahed at all the right places and asked just enough questions to sound invested without turning it into an interrogation.
“You’re really ma
king quite the name for yourself,” she said. I could feel the pride in her voice. “You’ve needed something like this in your life.”
I made a noncommittal noise. “I’ve been doing okay.”
“No.” Mom’s voice skewed stern. “You’ve been adrift for too long. Ever since you left school, you’ve been looking for your place in life. Someplace you belong.” Her tone softened. “It sounds like you’re finally finding that, and that gives me hope.”
“Mom…” I knew where this was going. I leaned against the counter and stifled a groan.
“You need to find people you belong with, too.”
“No I don’t. People suck.” I tried to keep my tone light.
Mom wasn’t having it. “Baby, I’m not going to be around forever. You need more than me in your life.”
“I have Trixie.”
“Okay, more than me and one friend. You need…”
“Don’t say a boyfriend,” I muttered.
“A life,” she finished. “A full, rounded life full of people who love you and people you love.”
“Love’s overrated.”
Mom sighed. “Sweetheart, love is everything. I know you don’t believe that.”
“I don’t know how you can!” It was out of my mouth before I could stop it. I winced hard. “Mom, I’m sorry. I…”
“No, don’t be. I get it. You don’t understand how I can believe in love after what happened with your father.” She sounded more amused than offended. “But I love you. And I love my clients. And I love my friends. And I loved him. And he loved me, even if it doesn’t seem like it. He really, truly did.” She paused. I knew talking about Dad hurt. “There’s a lot of love to be had out there. You need to open yourself up to some of it.”
“I love you, Mom.” I ran a hand over my face. “And I’m fine just the way I am. I’ve always been a loner. You know that better than anyone.”
“And I’ve worried about you longer than anyone,” she replied. “Just… I’m happy for you, sweetheart. I’m happy that you’re happy. I’m happy that work is going well. I’m happy that you have Trixie in your life.”
“But…” A resigned smile crossed my face. We would have this conversation until the end of time. She knew it, I knew it, but it was a ritual.
“You need to open your heart. As long as you keep it locked away, you’ll never find peace.”
I sighed. “There’s always weed…”
Mom gave a shocked laugh. “You sassy little thing. Come by the shop later this week. I’ll keep the cookie tin loaded. We can have tea and talk about this amazing project of yours.” She paused. “Just not tomorrow. It’s Beltane and I’m booked solid with readings.”
“Right. Have fun with that.” My mom’s tea shop gave her a strong sideline in woo. She’d read my tea leaves my entire life. She had an amazing track record, but I chalked it up to her knowing me all too well.
The barista-bot blew the last bits of froth onto Trixie’s latte. “I’ve got to go, Mom. I love you.”
“To the moon and back,” she said.
Chapter Three
My concentration was shot. Each email took at least twice as long to read through and type up than it should have, and then, when I finally got halfway through, my computer crashed.
“Fuck.” I turned it off, then on again. Before I could even open the mail program, it seized up again.
“Trix, you’re gonna hate me.”
“Aww, honey, I already hate you.” Trixie rolled her chair over next to me. “I kid. What’s up?”
“I have to call IT. The computer’s shitting the bed again.”
Her face soured. “No. Uh uh. Let me try something. Anything. That little weasel is not getting up in our space again.”
I wheeled my chair back. She tried something. Then she tried something else. Then she tried growling at the machine and smacking it with her palm.
“I’m calling Toby, Trix.”
“Ugh.”
“You don’t even have to talk to him. I’ll keep him over here.” I reached down and grabbed the side of her seat, sliding her back toward her desk. She crossed her arms and glared at me petulantly.
I failed to see what her problem was. Toby was polite. He was friendly. He was downright adorable. Boyish grin, curly ragamuffin hair, a neatly trimmed beard, well-toned arms that no geek had any right to have. A very bitable neck.
GodDAMN, Alex. Cold shower. Now.
I sat on the edge of my desk drinking a soda while I watched him scrutinize the settings on my computer.
“I tried that already,” Trixie grumbled.
Toby glanced her way. “Did you check the activity monitor?”
“No spikes that I saw. Biggest resource hog is her browser, and that’s not enough to be doing this.” Her voice could chill champagne bottles.
“Hmm.” He produced a thumb drive from his pocket and jabbed it into a USB port. The screen went black, then produced a stream of white text in an archaic font. He studied it, nodded, then typed a few words next to a flashing cursor.
“What did you just do?” Trixie asked, curiosity winning over bile.
Toby pulled the drive out of the slot, clicked my mouse twice, then rebooted the machine. “I fixed it,” he said with a rakish grin.
“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Trixie muttered.
The SparxWorx logo appeared on the screen, then my desktop reappeared. I opened my programs without a single hitch.
“Looks like you’re good to go,” Toby said with a grin.
“Thanks. You’re a lifesaver.” I tossed my soda can in the trash by my desk.
Toby made a soft disapproving noise and plucked the can out. “Save the planet,” he said, saluted me with the can, and chucked it in the recycle bin on his way out the door.
“Save the planet,” Trixie mocked as she settled back in her chair. “I hate that guy.”
“He has a point. I should have recycled it.” I squinted at her in disbelief. “What is your deal with Toby?”
“He’s…ugh, he’s too good. I don’t trust him.” Her eyes were locked on the door, as though he would come back just to haunt her. “Him and his magic thumb drive. He shows up, he plugs that thing into whichever computer’s on the fritz, and bam, it’s fixed. There’s something not right about that.”
I shrugged. I couldn’t even pretend to be a computer whiz. I barely even kept up my FaceSpace page. “You have your hacker tools, right? You’ve told me about Kelly Linux and…”
Her voice dropped. “Kali Linux, and shush. I’m white hat, but you don’t have to tell the world about my hobbies.”
“Isn’t that how you got this job? You un-hacked Mother Glory’s website for her with your white hat hacker-ly ways, just because?”
“Well, yeah.” She waved her hand dismissively. “But they moved me on to social media and brought…him on.”
“Oh.” Suddenly, all became clear.
“I mean, I’ll admit, social media maintenance became a huge part of my job once Mother Glory got that SparxWorx ad and the Thousand Young formed.” She poked her monitor with a finger. “The world’s most rabid fanbase, and I get to wrangle it.”
“And you do it like a fuckin’ boss, lady.”
She snorted softly. “Yeah I do. But… I miss it. The tech side. Poking the computer innards and making things go.”
“Anyone can do that,” I said consolingly. “Only you can keep up with a hundred thousand crazed fans, all demanding the love and attention of one very busy superstar.” I thought back to what Mother Glory had said to me in the Sanctum. “She told me that she only keeps the brightest lights in her inner circle. You’ve been in her circle longer than most of us. That says something.”
Trixie sighed hard, then flashed me a tired smile. “You really do have a way with words, Alex.”
“Saat potkia,” I said with a wink.
“Back at you. Whatever you said.” She looked at the clock. “Shit, it’s late. How’d it get to be ten?”
/> I didn’t have an answer. My stomach roiled.
Trixie saw the nausea on my face and gripped my hand. “You’ve got this. Mother Glory believes in you, I believe in you, now you have to believe in you. Whatever she has in store for you, you’re the woman for the job. You will kick all the ass.”
I managed a wan smile. “Thanks, Trix. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“You owe me a coffee mug.” She squeezed my hand, dropped it, and headed out for the night.
I watched her follow the last few people out of the office.
Then, silence.
I went back to translating emails.
Dearest Mother Glory, the citizens of Copenhagen eagerly await…
“You think you’re hot shit, huh?”
I looked up from my monitor with a start. Raul stood there, staring down his pointed and pierced nose at me. His eyes glittered with barely restrained rage.
“Hi, Raul. Did you need something?” I kept my tone professional, just shy of chirpy. “I have a few more emails to take care of, then I’ll lock everything up.”
“I know what you’re doing.”
I cocked a brow. “Translating…emails?”
“You’re taking her away from me.”
Warning klaxons went off in my head. Casually, I reached for the security button we each had on our desks. Glory had a notoriously bad stalker problem, and security was justifiably paranoid. Apparently not paranoid enough, I thought as I smiled blandly at the stalker before me.
“What do you mean, Raul?” I asked calmly. Click.
“She’s mine. Everyone knows she’s mine.” He jabbed a thumb into his chest, right in the center of Mother Glory’s screen-printed face. “I watched her sing in bars with no bathrooms. I photocopied flyers for concerts in people’s backyards. I knew her when.” He jabbed an index finger dangerously close to my eye. “Then you… you come here, with your high-end degrees and your fancy words and your talk talk talk, and now she loves you. And she took you in. And you… you don’t even deserve her.”
