Glimmers of Glass (A Glimmers Novel #1: Cinderella)

Chapter 11

Ten minutes after stepping into Lorinda's office, I stepped back out again with a signed slip of paper confirming her agreement: Getting Elle and Tyler together organically was going to be impossible, and I had official approval to use a short-term attraction spell on him. 

"Start there," Lorinda had said. "If she isn't won over when he starts standing under her window playing mediocre guitar, come back and we'll dope her up, too."

Godmothering was such an ethically sticky field. Elle would be horrified.

Fortunately for all of us, Elle would never know. I was almost glad she had no idea of her mom's Glimmering background, or her own probable abilities. At least this way she wouldn't be involved in what was looking to be a definite miscarriage of justice, and wouldn't be able to fight me about wrapping it up to its inevitable and ludicrous Greg-wished conclusion.

Someone should really put a ban on people making wishes for other people, I thought. Witches were great about that. Some would help people meddle with other people's lives, but most of them—and all the really good ones—were big into personal accountability and only screwing around with your side of the street. We could stand to take a lesson out of their spellbooks.

I slumped into my chair. I worked in a small cubicle opposite the large window overlooking the Oracle's Fountain. It wasn't the most glamorous space in the world, but it was relatively private, so I rested my head in my hands and looked down at the slip of paper adorned with Lorinda's heavy swooping signature. This was what my life had come to: Getting permission from people to mess with other people's lives, just so I could get a few pieces of gold from the Oracle and avoid my dad yelling at me for quitting the job he'd so generously arranged.

I wished I could be more like Elle. She didn't care what her dad thought, knew exactly what she wanted, and was moving full steam ahead and never mind the consequences. I, on the other hand, hadn't gone hiking in weeks and had barely paid attention this morning when I passed a downtown supermarket selling exotic flowers. That wasn't normal.  

I blew out a long sigh and the slip of paper on my desk ruffled and flew a few inches up the desk.

A frazzled presence loomed in my cubicle doorway. I didn't have to turn to know that it was Imogen, and she was in high dudgeon.

"Maia is getting married," she hissed, her voice pitched just so I could hear but no one else could. "Married. Who does that?"

I sat up straight and spun around to face her. The chair squeaked. "I thought she was being stalked by some bird watcher."

"Right?" Imogen said, her eyes wide and a few steps beyond irritated. She shoved my pen holder aside and sat on my desk so she could lean down and talk to me from way too close. "You would think. You would think she wouldn't spend six months whining about this 'stalker' and acting like she's desperate to date other guys only to turn around and announce she's marrying him. You would think that wouldn't be an option and that she was, you know, just slightly smarter than the average village idiot. But nope. My sister's marrying the ornithologist stalker, and guess who gets to be a bridesmaid?"

"And I'm going to guess the first two guesses don't count," I said.

"Take it to Hades!" Imogen said. "I thought I had a while. I thought some mother-fracking faerie prince was going to show up. But nope. Guess which of Portland's most famous bird stalkers is also a prince from an established Glimmer family? No," she said, leaning in even closer to me. "Just guess."

She was toeing the line between annoyed and actually hysterical. I put my hands on her shoulders. "Breathe," I ordered.

"Who can breathe at a time like this?" she said. "Who has time for breathing? Not me! Because I have to somehow manage to fit in wedding dress shopping and bridesmaid dress shopping and testing cakes and doing whatever else I'm going to be dragged into on top of work and school and my own freaking life."