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

Chapter 19

I was a junior godmother, but I was also still an intern, which meant most of the tedious work fell to me. Most weeks, I dreaded the Saturday shift and watched the clock until it was over. This week, I walked past the first spring sparrows hollering at each other from between the trees, through the doors, and into the elevator with a lightness in my step I couldn't pin down to the fairy dust in my drink.

Last night had been spectacular. Elle had bombarded me with questions about magic. We'd spent an hour brainstorming ways I could get out of forcing her and Tyler to prom together, and the next two hours dancing in the middle of the floor, crushed between the Glimmering elite, who, it turned out, knew how to throw a good party.

Last night had been the first time I felt like maybe I could do this godmother thing after all, and that made the prospect of a Saturday spent filing case reports and booking client meetings feel like just another feather in my classy professional cap.

The confident euphoria lasted until about two steps through the door.

"What did you do?" Lorinda barked. She swooped down on me, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor as she crossed the room, each one sounding like a tiny distant gunshot. Her baby blue business suit stood in direct contrast to the look of outrage on her face. I felt my body shrink in on itself.

"You are a faerie godmother at Wishes Fulfilled," she bellowed. I couldn't tell if she was shouting or if the anger pulsing outward from her just made it seem that way. "You have certain responsibilities, not the least of which is to honor client wishes regarding confidentiality!"

I didn't know what to do. Playing dumb seemed like a stupid option at this point. I scrambled to regain some sense of last night's confidence. It was gone.

"What are you talking about?" I said, playing for time. I didn't even sound convincing to myself.

"You were specifically and explicitly told to keep your client unaware of her connection to the Glimmering world," Lorinda said. "Your client should not even know our world exists. And yet, last night, you willfully disobeyed your instructions and told her everything. Is that or is that not correct?"

She looked up, and I followed her gaze. Imogen stood in the corner of the room, staring at us in horror. Lorinda snapped her eyebrows high onto her forehead, and Imogen turned quickly away to go back to making copies.

"Well?" Lorinda demanded. I sent a silent plea to Imogen to rescue me, but knew she couldn't do anything.

"That's correct," I said. I wished I could make the rest of myself as small as my voice.

"Why?" Lorinda said.

I couldn't speak. Hot pressure welled up behind my eyes and I could feel my face flushing with red heat. I swallowed, hard. Don't cry, I ordered. You're at work. Do not cry. Don't cry. After a few slow, calming breaths, I said, still in the tiny voice, "I don't know."

How could I not know? I'd known last night. I'd been all hear-me-roar last night. Now, every justification I'd had about respect and free will was melting in the face of Lorinda's glare.

Lorinda put one of her hands on her hip. I could barely tell, because my gaze was glued to the floor. I couldn't force myself to lift my head. "Not good enough," she said.

Everyone's eyes were on me, their energy piercing through the air like a dozen hot sunbeams. I glanced up to the side. Imogen had stopped pretending to make copies and was watching me. She drew her eyebrows together and tried to send me sympathy through her look. I tried to smile back, but my face wouldn't cooperate.

I took a deep breath and tried to push the words out. "I didn't think it was right," I said. My voice came out on a whisper. I cleared my throat and tried again. "I think it's wrong to be a godmother to someone without their knowledge," I said. I swallowed. Everything about my throat seemed huge and dry. "People deserve to have the opportunity to consent before we start playing God with their lives."