Fairy Godmothers, Inc_ - By Jenniffer Wardell Page 0,2

the time she felt she didn’t do too badly at it. As long as she managed to survive client meetings like this, she could accept that she had probably ended up where she should have.

Kate glanced back up at the receiving room window. Even if she sometimes fantasized about turning annoying, obsessively picky queens into lawn furniture.

A flash interrupted the rest of the thought, followed by the tinkling, highly copyrighted Fairy Godmothers, Inc. entrance music. Kate closed her eyes long enough to mutter something deeply insulting to the universe as a whole, then opened them fast enough to avoid getting hit by the short, sandy-haired intern who hadn’t quite gotten the transport gates spell down yet.

As soon as the purple smoke cleared, she helped the young man up, at which point he practically launched himself at her in a state of almost total panic. “You didn’t leave your beeper on!” he accused, a terrified squeak in his voice. “You know that creepy thing Bubbles does with her eyes when someone doesn’t leave her beeper on, and it’s always me she does it at, because I’m the only one left in the office! And I still really, really hate to teleport!”

Kate placed a hand on each of his shoulders, ignoring the not-undeserved yelling and making sure to look him in the eyes. “Ned, breathe,” she commanded, waiting until he had done so before pulling out the star that served as the wand’s beeper attachment. With a sigh, she stuck it in position on the tip—Bubbles would comment about it either way, but if she didn’t see it, there would also be veiled threats about departmental guidelines. “I need to know—did her tone just make you want to hide under a desk, or did it also make you want to whimper like you’d been kicked?”

Ned stood and seriously considered this for a moment, calmer now that he’d been allowed to vent. “Just hide under the desk.” He winced slightly as if remembering a less-than-soothing detail he’d missed. “But she was pacing a lot.”

Kate sighed as she rubbed a hand along the back of her knotted neck muscles, wondering if this meant she’d have to start the meeting with Beatrice all over again. “So, I’ll probably survive.” She inclined her head toward the palace. “Did she mention what excuse I’m supposed to give for skipping out on a client meeting, or did you get stuck being the bearer of bad news?”

Ned’s sigh was even louder than Kate’s. “At least the spell for the excuse message is easy, or I’d probably still be setting myself on fire.” The flames had actually come from Ned’s one attempt at a ball gown spell. Thankfully, the “We apologize for any inconvenience, and will be contacting you shortly” twinkly lit message was significantly more Ned’s speed at the moment. “Bubbles said she isn’t an official client until she makes the rest of her payments.”

Kate shook her head, more than happy never to see Beatrice again. “At least you don’t have to go up and listen to the clients yell at you anymore.” She patted his shoulder in genuine sympathy, then squared hers and reached for her wand. “Good luck.”

Ned tried to look encouraging as he held up his own wand, a faint scorch mark visible near the tip. “You, too.”

“I’ve been looking at what you consider to be reports, Kate Harris. You should be grateful that I edit all departmental paperwork before sending it upstairs.” Bubbles peered through her small wire-rimmed glasses at the files spread out before her. Her sleek, carefully-shaped gray bob, which took on a slightly pink hue from her own equally fluffy uniform, barely shifted as she moved. “Did you really have the future Count and Countess of DuBoir meet by dumping a large bowl of cream custard on the young woman’s head? Even if you were running low on True Love, the usual dose should have been sufficient to complete the job with the class expected of a Fairy Godmother.”

“Is this an early performance review?” Kate asked calmly, clinging to the stiffly pleasant expression she’d mastered during her previous sessions with Bubbles. A part of her wanted to explain that the Count and his future Countess were both terminally shy but had been eyeing each other for hours, and the custard had been the perfect excuse for the Count to rush right over and never leave her side for the rest of the night. Of course, the part of Kate that actually had