The Magic Touch (4 page)

It came shortly before quitting time. He was
minding his own business, typing away at his computer, eyes glued
to the screen, when he heard a sharp squeal behind him. Suddenly
something heavy clonked him across the back of the head.

“Ow!” He ducked, narrowly avoiding another
blow as a plastic clipboard was swung toward him like a club.
“Anne, what are you doing?”

Slithering to the floor and ducking low to
take shelter behind his chair, he peered cautiously up at the
attractive brunette towering over him. He’d never gotten along with
Mr. Dolhouser’s female assistant, but it wasn’t like her to bring
the feud to blows.

She didn’t look sorry as she stood before
him, arms followed across the front of her white blouse. “Serves
you right, Daniel,” she snapped. “What do you mean pinching my
bottom like that? You just wait until I tell Mr. Dolhouser.”

Danny clutched his throbbing skull. “What do
you mean ‘pinching’? I don’t know what you’re babbling about.”

But he did. Horribly, he did. He murmured
into the thin air around him. “You’ve gone too far this time.”

If Ambrielle was floating around him
somewhere, invisible, she gave no indication she heard.

But Anne did and she glowered at him. “No,
it’s you who’ve gone too far, Daniel. There are laws against
harassing women in the workplace.”

“Anne, please, just let me explain.”

But she had already whirled and was stalking
off toward Mr. Dolhouser’s office, angrily swinging her clipboard
as she went. That was probably just as well, since Danny couldn’t
imagine what sort of explanation he would’ve given anyway that
wouldn’t leave him looking like a lunatic.

He scrambled after Anne with the unpleasant
feeling whatever was coming wasn’t going to end well.

* * *

And end well, it didn’t. Danny’s emotions
were mixed as he rode the elevator down to the first floor of the
office building, carrying a cardboard box full of all his personal
effects. He was still on fire with embarrassment after the awkward
confrontation in Mr. Dolhouser’s office. Having all his coworkers
looking on as security escorted him to his cubicle to collect his
things was a silent and humiliating affair.

Now it felt weird, knowing he’d never set
foot on this elevator again. For the past five years it had taken
him to and from his doom in that tight little cubicle in that
stuffy little office. He couldn’t deny he felt a slight twinge of
relief at the knowledge he would never see this hated place or any
of these people again. But the bad feelings outweighed the good.
He’d been fired, something that had never happened to him before.
He’d been falsely accused, humiliated, and chewed out by his boss.
He faced unemployment and a possible lawsuit. All because some
godmother had decided to meddle.

As he crossed the parking lot and loaded the
box into the passenger seat of his car, he didn’t even glance
across the street toward the park. Nevertheless, he had no doubt
she was out there somewhere, watching.

“Sexual harassment?” Danny stood in the
doorway to the apartment, staring at the fairy woman in disbelief.
Unperturbed by his deadly glare or by the happy little Brutus
skipping around her feet, she bustled around the kitchen, scarcely
even glancing up from her work. A cookbook lay open on the counter
and a light dusting of flour coated Ambrielle’s hands. She had
ditched her previous clothing yet again for a more casual outfit of
a pink blouse and denim capris. A polka-dotted apron covered her
from neck to slender waist with the instructions
Kiss the
Fairy
across the front. Danny felt like doing anything but.

“And harassment toward a coworker at that,”
she said lightly. “You should be ashamed of yourself, Danny.” Her
curly head remained bent over the cookbook.

Danny dropped the cardboard box he had been
lugging. It hit the floor with a thud that echoed through the still
apartment, but Ambrielle didn’t even start at the noise.

“I
was
ashamed,” he agreed in a
dangerous tone. “Thanks to you, my coworkers now think I’m a perv,
and Anne is threatening to bring charges to court.”

“And all because you had to be stubborn.”

“All because
what?
”

She faced him. “I warned you to give notice,
but you wouldn’t listen. I gave you the chance to get away without
a fuss, but you wouldn’t take it. What is that but
stubbornness?”

She stood before him, not defiantly, but with
a casual air as if they were discussing dinner options or talking
about what was going to be on TV. Her easy attitude was what got to
him most. She wasn’t concerned with his troubles. Why should she
be? This wasn’t her life she was ruining.

Something in him snapped then. He took hold
of her narrow shoulders, turning her to face him. “I’m sure you
mean well,” he said. “I don’t doubt you even think you’re doing me
some good. But, frankly, this godmother thing isn’t working out.
And so, without further ado I just want to say ‘goodbye and good
luck.’”

And before she could react, he suddenly swept
her slender body up in his arms. A startled squeak escaped her
lips, but he didn’t give her time to get another word out. Didn’t
they always say something in the stories about not giving fairies a
chance to put a spell on you?

He carried her swiftly to the open front
door, deposited her lightly in the empty hall, and retreated as
soon as her feet touched the carpet, slamming the apartment door in
her face.

At his feet, Brutus whined and gave him a
reproachful look, but he didn’t care. Alone again, peace and
well-being rolled over him. He still faced unemployment and a
possible lawsuit from a coworker, but it was amazing how taking
just one right step could make all the other pieces of your life
fall into place. He’d take a relaxing evening off—he deserved
it—and save his troubles for another day.

His stomach rumbled sharply, reminding him he
hadn’t eaten a full meal at lunchtime because he’d been in such a
rush to escape Ambrielle. Now the smells coming from the oven made
his mouth water. He also remembered his late rise this morning and
how he’d had to scurry to get ready for work. There’d been no time
for a shower or a shave. He’d take care of that now, while dinner
was cooking.

But first he needed to make sure he’d taken
care of the godmother infestation around here. He pressed an ear to
the front door and listened. No sound filtered through.

All the same, he turned the lock and twisted
the dead bolt for added security. With an angry fairy you could
never be too careful. Then, whistling contentedly, he meandered
down the hallway toward the bathroom, unbuttoning his shirt as he
went. He felt good for the first time all day.

Stepping into the bathroom, he started the
water running and ducked back down the hall to see if he could find
a change of clothes amid the mess Ambrielle had made of his
bedroom.

“What the…? How did you get in here?”

Ambrielle didn’t even open her eyes at the
exclamations coming from the bathroom doorway, but sank a little
deeper into the warm tub of water, letting the scented bubble bath
close over her like a thick, foamy blanket. The heat felt good
after a long day of wandering the real world, her ethereal feet
bound up in very physical shoes. It was something she would have to
get used to. With her heightened fairy senses, everything in their
world seemed more painful and uncomfortable than it was in hers.
Then again, the pleasure of a hot bath seemed somehow magnified for
it, so maybe it was an even trade.

“I thought I was rid of you. I don’t
understand…”

He sounded so confused that she took pity on
him and peeped one eye open. “Of course you don’t, Danny. But tell
me what, specifically, confuses you and I’ll try to shed some light
on it.”

He shook his head. “I locked you out. I
distinctly remember turning the bolt. Then I walked in here, I ran
the water…”

“And that was nice of you. You must have
realized how I needed a soak.”

He just stared blankly through her. “I went
to my room, dug around in that hippy den you’ve made of it, looking
for my clothes—”

“Don’t strain your brain trying to make sense
of it. Magical transportation isn’t something you could
understand.”

He was starting to look angry. “You can’t
keep coming back into people’s houses after they’ve thrown you
out.”

“Hmm, the evidence would suggest the
contrary. I just did it, so obviously I
can
.”

“This is breaking and entering.”

“Since nothing was broken, technically it’s
only entering.”

“I could call the cops and have you
removed.”

“By telling them what? Your fairy godmother
won’t stay out of your bathtub?”

“That’s enough. I’m finished with you, fairy,
do you hear? I want you to take all your little fairy clothes and
your wings and your wands and whatever else you’ve got stowed
around here and be gone.”

“Or what?” She scooped up a handful of
bubbles and blew them toward the ceiling. What made him so
irritable all of a sudden? Then she remembered he had always been
an anxious child so maybe that explained how he’d grown into such
an impatient man. Sometimes people couldn’t help these
things—really they couldn’t.

She said, “What exactly is it that you want
from me, Danny? How can I improve your bad day?”

He eyed her suspiciously, as if uncertain
what to make of such an offer. “Like I said, you can start by
getting out.”

She shrugged. “If that’s what you want. But
I’m not going anywhere on an empty stomach. I’ve got dinner in the
oven.”

He seemed to consider it. “If one last dinner
is what it will take to get you out of here, dinner it is. But
let’s not drag it out.”

“As you wish. I’ll be right out.” She gripped
the sides of the tub.

“Whoa, hey, not until I’m gone.” He backed
hastily out the door. “I’ve got enough twisted godmother memories
from the shower this morning, thank you.”

Well, that was one way of getting rid of him.
Ambrielle whispered a spell and a set of clothing magically
appeared, folded and waiting for her atop the counter. As she
dressed, she applied her thoughts to how she was going to finish
her work with Danny.

A sharp tap at the door betrayed his
impatience to send her on her way. “Are you coming or not?” he
called through the door. “Let’s get on with this.”

She shook her hair out and forced a carefree
smile to her lips, calling back, “Not so fast, I need time to
prepare everything. You get out of here and come back in an
hour.”

And that was what he did.

* * *

When he returned to the apartment, he was
greeted by a scene from a romantic chick-flick. Out on the fire
escape a candlelit dinner waited for him, complete with a tiny
table for two that the fairy had somehow managed to cram into the
small space. There was the usual white tablecloth, champagne
glasses, and a vase of roses. Even the long nose of a sleeping
dachshund protruding from beneath the edge of the tablecloth didn’t
seem terribly out of place.

“What’s all this?”

He had no sooner taken a seat than she thrust
a scrap of paper beneath his nose.

She said, “It’s an ad for a small business
prospect. A local landscaper is closing up shop and selling off his
supplies and storage building lease. It’s not much, but he’s
already got a solid customer base, so a new owner might be able to
make something of the opportunity.”

“And this has what to do with me?”

“Don’t play dense. Obviously I’m thinking of
you buying him out. You took a class in small business management a
few years back and it’d be simple enough to take another course on
landscaping and turf care. You enjoy working outdoors and this is
your chance to be your own boss. And…” She gave him a significant
look. “We both know you’re currently in the market for a new
job.”

He snorted. “And I’m supposed to leap to obey
this newest whim of yours?”

“It’s no whim, it’s been percolating in my
head for—” She checked her watch. “Almost an hour now.”

“And did you put the same amount of thought
into how a guy in my position is supposed to come up with the money
to finance this scheme? Even assuming I was interested, and I’m not
saying I am, I haven’t got a lot of savings and no bank in their
right mind would qualify me for a loan.”

She waved a dismissive hand. “You might be
surprised. I know the godmother of a local bank director and she
owes me a favor.”

He glared. He hated when she thought of
everything. “I’d have to draw up a business plan and work out a
budget for that imaginary loan. There’d be a crazy amount of work
involved.”

“Then it’s a lucky thing you’ve got plenty of
time on your hands.” She produced a notepad and pen, seemingly out
of nowhere, and shoved them across the table.

Despite himself, Danny was interested. He
knew this was a harebrained scheme born of desperation and fairy
dust, but could it possibly succeed? A part of him itched to find
out. And she was right; he did hold a certificate in small business
management. How had she known about that old ambition he’d all but
forgotten years ago? The woman was positively scary when she read
his mind.

He took up the pen and began to write.

But no sooner did pen touch paper than he
heard the ringing of the phone through the open door. He glanced
into the living room, where his cell phone rested on the coffee
table.

“That’s Charlotte, calling to make up,”
Ambrielle told him as casually as she might have said “I burned the
soufflé” or “Go start up a new business you know nothing
about.”