By Magic Alone

“I’ve given this a lot of thought, and I’m pretty sure she’s a witch.” Kara Lysecki—my formerly sane friend—squirmed in her chair, but her moss green eyes met mine head-on. “And yes, before you ask, I’m well aware of how crazy that sounds.”

“Well, okay then. As long as you’re aware of that.” I sat very still, waiting for the punch line so I could laugh. But when a few seconds passed without Kara offering one, a slow dread began to build. “Tell me you’re joking.”

“I’m completely serious, Julia. A good witch, though. Like Glinda from
The Wizard of Oz.”

I narrowed my eyes, still looking for any sign of humor. “Uh-huh. And how many margaritas did you consume with lunch to reach this illuminating conclusion?”

Kara flipped her gaze to our other friend, Leslie Meyers, who was seated next to her in my office. “I told you she wouldn’t believe us.”

Leslie, who thus far had remained so quiet I’d almost forgotten she was here, had an odd expression on her face. My dread increased. “I’ve also thought a lot about this, and I’ve changed my mind, Kara. I don’t think she’s a witch.”

Whew. For a second there, I was seriously starting to worry. “Yay for the voice of reason. Now that the fun and games portion of this meeting is over with, can we move on to business?”

Kara’s cheeks flushed bright pink. “You changed your mind but couldn’t be bothered to tell me? Jeez, thanks Leslie.”

“I didn’t have a chance! You jumped right in as soon as we sat
down.” Leslie sucked in a breath. “Look, I haven’t completely altered my thoughts on this. I just don’t think Verda is a witch. I . . . I think she’s more like a fairy godmother. And we’re her—”

“Cinderellas!” Kara bobbed her head so hard that her short mop of blonde curls bounced. “That’s perfect, Les. Why didn’t I think of that? Verda’s taken us under her wing to find us our perfect love matches with her own special brand of magic.” A goofy grin lit her heart-shaped face.
“Fairy
magic.”

I silently counted to ten. My two best friends stared at me with stars shimmering in their eyes, as if they thought I was going to leap on board their insanity train. Not likely. I’d never been one for fairy tales.

“Only one of you can be Cinderella,” I pointed out, not bothering to mask my sarcasm. “But hey, there are plenty of other Disney heroines to choose from. We have Snow White, Belle, Aurora, and . . . um . . . Little Red Riding Hood. Take your pick.”

“Little Red Riding Hood is not a Disney heroine. She was also nearly eaten by a wolf.” Kara shivered. “As for your other examples, neither Leslie nor I would fall for the Beast, so that leaves out Belle—”

“What’s wrong with the Beast?” Leslie interjected. “He has a big heart, lives in a huge house, and is financially stable. He’s a good catch! Belle could have done much, much worse.”

Kara blinked. “You’d go for the Beast? Really? I’d have pegged you for Aurora.”

“You’re kidding, right? I am so not Aurora. You’re more like Sleeping Beauty than I am. She’s innocent and sweet. And I’m . . . not.” Leslie frowned. “In fact, I’m not Disney-heroine material at all. Though I’m closer to Cinderella than you are.”

“Anyway,” Kara drawled, returning her focus to me.
“You’d
be Snow White, so she’s off the table. Hm, who else is there?”

“Why am I Snow White?” I regretted asking the second the question slipped from my mouth, because why she thought I’d be a good fit with dwarves and poison apples didn’t mean squat. “Never mind. Doesn’t matter.”

But it was too late. Counting on her fingers, Kara said, “You look like her, for one.”

Again, I waited for her to laugh. Again, she didn’t. I asked, “Do you see me in puffy blue and yellow dresses often?”

“No, but yellow is a good color for you. Not everyone can wear yellow, but you can.” When I didn’t respond, Kara added, “Besides, that wasn’t what I meant. Your hair is so dark it’s almost black, and you have blue eyes. You love apples, and I’m assuming that Snow White also loves them or why would she eat the poison one, you know? And if she were real, she’d be into animal rights, just like you!”

I truly had nothing to say. I should be used to these oddball conversations by now. I’ve known Kara almost my entire life. But somehow, they—and she—took me by surprise on a fairly regular basis.

A few minutes passed where the three of us stared at each other. Then Kara shook her head. “Sorry. I went off topic, didn’t I?”

“Kind of. So let’s start over, because I’m quite sure that after four weeks on the job, you have more valuable information than ‘Verda is a fairy godmother.’” I breathed deeply. “You do, right? Tell me you do.”

It was Leslie’s turn to shake her head. “No. We really don’t.”

I waited for her to say more. She didn’t. Swallowing another bout of sarcasm—because with the mood these two were in,
we could end up off topic for hours—I worked out my anxiety by untwisting a stray paper clip. It helped until I punctured my fingertip with a pointy end.

Curling my hand around the mangled wire, I fought for steady nerves. “Come on. You can’t really expect me to believe that Verda is a fairy godmother.
This
is how Magical Matchups is stealing all of my clients away? With magic?”

Leslie’s cheeks puffed out and her cinnamon eyes held a light of indignation. “No.
You
come on. Aren’t you overstating your predicament? You haven’t lost all of your clients.” She combed her fingers through her long, glossy, auburn hair as if she were a cover girl prepping for a photo shoot. “Besides which, you can’t categorically state that every lost client is due to Magical Matchups. That isn’t fair, and it isn’t realistic.”

“I
own
this business. I could
lose
this business. That’s my reality, and this fairy-godmother stuff isn’t helping.”

“Have you considered that some of your past clients might have dropped out because you matched them up with the right person?” Leslie asked. “I call that a success.”