This Magic Moment (Just a Little Magic Series)

by Cross, Daryn

“Love is often a sacrifice, son. This one will be, too. Tell your Gretta and her Mr. Kramer to get those two down to a little island near South Padre. Fact is, I own it.” He snickered. “Very elite, as in only a few people can get reservations.” He winked. “Intervention number two explains what the two will do once they get there. But first, you get a chance to play Doctor.”

  “What?”

  “Not really, but you need to give Mike a little powder to slip into Zack’s drink. He’ll think he’s pushing his health. Don’t worry, you’ll do fine.” Maxwell shook his head. “But the interventions aren’t easy.” He fished in his pocket and handed one sheet of folded notebook paper to Tom.

  Tom slowly unfolded it, read it, then placed the list on the bar. “And I thought the first year was bad.” He mopped his forehead with a handkerchief.

  “Don’t worry about the interventions, boy. They’ll work. You’ve just got to believe.”

  ****

  Tom pulled his topcoat closer and shivered. I can’t believe I’ve had to visit New York City in the winter two years in a row. Philadelphia is bad enough. He glowered at the woman passing him, and she ran by.

  He had himself to blame. Tom groaned. Yep, he had to admit it. He’d brought this one on himself. After all, he’d been the one to acquiesce when Gretta’d asked about writing to Magic.

  “Better remember me next Christmas, Gretta, darling,” he muttered through chattering teeth.

  As he reached the next elaborate building, Tom noted the number on the high rise. Gretta’s address. Complete with doorman and hotsy-totsy oriental carpets. The little foster girl had done okay. Still, as he’d thought and Magic corroborated, she wasn’t happy. Not yet. And it was up to him to get her in the right place at the right time to discover how she was supposed to live the rest of her life. That was his own personal agenda.

  “Oh, boy. Not an easy task.”

  “Pardon me sir?” The doorman looked at him with an assessing eye.

  “I wasn’t speaking to you. Just talking to myself.”

  “I see, sir.”

  He didn’t miss the well-groomed caretaker’s look of disdain as he assessed Tom’s appearance. “Okay, so I’m not wearing Armani. I sent it out to get it cleaned. Gretta Fishman is expecting me. Tom Kreger.”

  The doorman turned up his nose, then opened the door wide. “Of course, sir. Tenth floor, turn to the left as you exit the elevator.”

  The way the man continued to stare at him pissed Tom off. He was more than aware he appeared a little ragged around the edges, but that was because he wasn’t wasting any money on clothes. Not right now. Man looks like he thinks I just walked through an unmucked horse barn. Tom smiled. Oh, well, might as well have some fun with it.

  He looked at the bottoms of both his shoes before he stepped onto the carpet, then stared back up at the doorman. “I guess I got all the shit off back there on the curb.”

  At the man’s gasp of outrage, Tom chuckled and walked towards the elevators. He turned and flipped a quarter in the doorman’s direction. “Almost forgot your tip.”

  Seconds later, Tom stood in the entrance foyer of Gretta’s apartment.

  “Tom, you sweetie, thanks for coming by.” She gestured towards a tall man standing behind her. “This is Mike. But I guess you figured that out.”

  Tom stepped forward and shook the man’s outstretched hand. “Nice to meet you. Gretta told me all about you.”

  “Likewise,” Mike said.

  Gretta held out her hands. “Come on, Tom, let me have your coat. I hope your coming here means Mike’s and my project has become your responsibility this year.” Her teeth gleamed against dark red lips.

  “You got it.” Tom removed his coat and handed it to her. “Although I have to admit, I didn’t know Magic was so thorough with his reading of all those letters. I was a bit nervous about being sanctioned for interfering. In fact, I was beginning to wonder if I’d be back on unemployment, but the old geezer seems ecstatic about this match. He says Zack and Crandall are a real challenge.”

  “You can say that again.” Mike laughed. “Wait’ll you meet them. I assume you will?”

  “Oh, yeah.” Tom crossed to the overstuffed couch and sat down, leaning back with his hands behind his neck. “I’ll be forced to travel down where they’ll be vacationing, on an island off Texas. One I’ve never heard of. In fact, I couldn’t find it on Mapquest.”

  “Yeah, right.” Mike laughed again. “Zack doesn’t know the meaning of the word vacation. Especially to a secluded island. He hasn’t had any real time off since I’ve known him. The closest he came is when we closed a merger in Great Britain. And believe me, that was no vacation. We were inside almost the whole trip in discussions until three a.m. every morning.”

  “Well, he’s going on this one. Magic said so.” Tom held up his forefinger and then laid it next to his nose. “And Magic knows everything.”

  “There’s always a first time for failure.” Mike shook his head in disbelief.

  “Now, lover, Tom says Maxwell Magic is a little eccentric, but he seems to have an impeccable record, so let’s try to be positive.” Gretta sat down on the other side of Tom. “Look, these two are anti-relaxation. I won’t even give Crandall my home phone number for fear she’ll be calling me every free moment. Did Magic tell you how to get them to go on vacation?”

  Tom nodded as he pulled a paper out of his inner jacket pocket. “Sure did.” He unfolded the sheet. “According to this, Magic owns the property down there and it’s vacant and at his disposal for March and April.” Tom looked out over the top of the paper. “He also has plans for a visitor coming there as a favor. There are all sorts of people who seem to owe him favors, but so far the authorities haven’t come asking me any questions.”

  “I hope not.” Gretta patted his hand. “Go on.”

  Tom winked. “You won’t have any trouble with Crandall. She’s moved out of her house into a cramped apartment.”

  “How do you know that?” She waved her hand in the air as Tom started to point back to his temple. “No, never mind. I get it. Magic knows everything. But just because I find somewhere for her to visit doesn’t mean she’ll go there. The woman’s a workaholic. Not only that, she’s expecting some man she’s called every name in the book, to try to take over her company in a proxy fight.”

  “She’ll go if she thinks the answer to saving her company is down there. Gerald Brooks, king of the vending empire.”

  “Brooks? Get outta here. He’s not just in charge of the American Vending Company, but also owns the concessions in almost every mall and movie theatre in the country.” Gretta stared at him, her head cocked. “But, won’t Zack cramp her style if she’s after a contract?”

  Tom nodded. “She won’t know who he is immediately.”

  “But how can . . .”

  “Look, Crandall doesn’t know what he looks like. You know he never uses his photo in Scrumbles promos. Not when they first meet, anyway.” Tom laughed. “As for Brooks, Magic has a plan. Don’t worry, Brooks will be there.”

  “Okay, so she’ll go. But once she finds out who Zack is, I mean, the fact he’s the CEO of one of a competing company, and that we plotted to throw them together, she’ll be madder than a wet hornet.”

  “Trust me, I can keep you two out of the whole setup. When she does find out who Zack is, it’ll be too late because she’ll be forced to work with him. I’m not sure what Magic has worked out. I just know the interventions.” Tom pointed to the list. “One thing is for sure, I have to make one intervention before they get there.”

  ****

  “I know what’s wrong with it now. It’s the man we cast for the spot. He’s too pretty!”

  Zack paced back and forth in the boardroom as the end of the advertisement flickered on the wall’s projection screen. This part of the process was the one he hated. “Guy’s gotta look more like Rocky Balboa or The Terminator.”

  “Uh, Zack. You mean Sylvester Stallone or Arnold Schwarzenegger
.” Mike shook his head. “Slow down, boss. You may have a great pulse rate, but you can overdo it, you know.”

  “I’m fine. My health is fine. As for the model, not Stallone or Schwarzenegger. Nope. Not that muscular. But, you know, earthy and uneven more imperfect features.”

  “So, where do you think we’re gonna’ find a replacement between now and April? This ad’s gotta’ be produced by the end of May so it can show on July 4th.” Mike pulled out a handkerchief and mopped his face.

  “I don’t know, but we’re going on a search. Our spot at the Super Bowl had a dismal rating compared to everything else shown. We weren’t even mentioned on the entertainment channel recap!” Zack began pacing again. “I’m not spending this kind of money to see it disappear down a rabbit hole. If we don’t have another winner like when we brought out our slogan, we might as well hang it up and sell out to Amcraco!”

  Mike clenched his fists. “Zack, your original slogan flew in the face of every feminist in the known world.”

  Zack grinned as Mike mopped his face. He remembered how he’d first thought he’d screwed when the slogan was introduced. Scrumbles gets you in the mood. The woman in the ads was dressed in a deep vee red silk gown sinking into a bed with black satin sheets. After licking her tongue over the snack cake, she set down the cake on the nightstand, gestured to someone off camera and began to shimmy out of the dress. The slogan and the ad had worked like a charm.

  “You were lucky that time,” Mike said, his face screwed up in an odd contorted way. “If it hadn’t been for the picketing by the Women’s Organization for Defeating Chauvinism and the WODC having a lot of clout, you wouldn’t have had the press. Their picketing backfired on them and boomeranged in our favor, shooting us to the top of the snack ratings. Lightning doesn’t strike the same spot twice. This time our attempt could fall flat and we could shoot ourselves in the proverbial foot.”

  Zack chuckled. “No way. It just has to be different. No damn elves in my ads. No cartoon characters or down-home homely spokesperson. Nope. Cutting edge, Mike. Cutting edge or cut us out.”

  Mike cleared his throat and closed his eyes momentarily.

  “Look, if you’re through with your moment of meditation, can we go on? Do you have any suggestions where we can find a good looking not perfect man?” Zack grabbed his bottled water and took a long sip.

  Mike glared at him, the color draining from his face. The guy was really coming unglued. “Uh, not offhand. I’m not used to searching for men.”

  Zack crossed his arms. “Very funny, wise guy. Mike, you looked a little peeked, my man. You need to exercise more, give your blood a chance to circulate.”

  Mike refused to meet his eyes and took a sideward glance at his watch. What was the man waiting on anyway? Suddenly, white hot heat surged up from his core. Zack clutched his throat.

  Mike glanced up, his eyes flaring. “Zack, are you okay? You look like you ought to sit down.”

  Loosening his tie, Zack then unbuttoned the top button on his dress shirt. “Damn, I feel like the heat just came on and blew up my throat.”

  “Man, you really don’t look good. I can’t remember your face ever being this beet red. I think you need to go see a doctor.”

  “Not necessary. I’ll be all right in just a minute.” Zack tried to remain calm and suppress his discomfort.

  “Look, you need to go see a doctor. You look awful.”

  “I told you I’ll be okay.”

  Mike raked his hair back off his face. “Okay fine. But one thing I will insist is that you take off a few days. I think I have a suggestion that will make you want to do just that.”

  Chapter Three

  Crandall looked up from Gretta’s storyboard. “Why do I want to go to some place that’s all but deserted? I have to plan the campaign for the launch of the banana daiquiri pretzel that comes out in June. Besides, we’re opening a new Pretzelicious location in Myrtle Beach on Independence Day. That’s going to take loads of advanced planning.”

  Gretta sighed in that annoying way of hers. The one that sounded like Crandall was blowing her carefully thought out plans. Darn it, too bad the woman was so good at what she did. Good enough she wouldn’t make her mad. She’d just have to ignore her annoying habits.

  “Look, it’s not completely deserted. You won’t be Robinson Crusoe or that guy in the movie with the basketball. Think about it.” Gretta held up her hands with thumbs touching like she was looking at a commercial on a TV. “Sunshine, surf, TexMex food and lively music. Cool nights as the breeze comes off the bay.”

  “Sunburn, diarrhea, mosquitoes attacking after dark.” At Gretta’s glare, Crandall smiled. “Continue trying to sell me on the idea.”

  “There are a couple of old mansions down there, all old world elegance, and people to wait on you. I know you hate your temporary apartment. Besides, you’ll have your cell phone. Get away. It will probably help you to unwind, be more creative.”

  “Right.” Crandall shook her head at her campaign manager and pointed back at the storyboard. “There is a lot more work to be done here. First of all, about this new slogan you want us to use for branding. A little sass, a lot of salt, your tongue will ask for more. It sounds like a French kiss not a great pretzel.”

  “You have to agree it’s a lot better than the one with the picture of a Pretzlelicious pretzel and the tag, ‘Want to take the twists out of your day?’”

  Crandall groaned. “That one was just lame. This one sounds like it’s being used to advertise a porn movie.”

  “A sexy slogan worked for Scrumbles.”

  Lowering the storyboard, Crandall threw her manager a disapproving glare.

  Sighing, Gretta nodded. “Okay, I’ll work on it some more. I can FEDEX it to you at the island. Sweetie,” she said in a hushed tone, “I wasn’t going to tell you this right away, but seeing as you’re being resistant about this trip, I have to tell you now. Rumor has it Gerald Brooks is going to be down there in an old mansion. I have it on very good intel.”

  Crandall gasped. “The Gerald Brooks? Oh my word, the king of vending. The God of making a business a billion dollar baby. If you’re sure the tip is legit, of course I’ll go. This could save the company.”

  “I have to warn you, though,” Gretta said, her voice still low and guarded. “The word is Zack Graham is putting the rush on the guy. Wouldn’t be surprised if he’s down there himself courting him. The guy is crafty, in fact downright devious. I’m positive he’ll be incognito. I suggest you do the same.”

  Crandall nodded. Just the guy’s name sent ice water pouring along her veins. No way would she let him have the upper hand on such a coup. “Absolutely. I wouldn’t give him the pleasure of knowing who I am anyway. Where is this place?”

  “I knew you’d jump at this opportunity.” Gretta grinned. “It’s off the south Texas coast. Isle Imaginique. Very exclusive. In fact, it isn’t on any map I can find.”

  ****

  Tom sat in the parlor of an old mansion waiting for Mr. Brooks. He still wasn’t sure how Magic had gotten the guy to come down here, but the maid had said he’d arrived and was upstairs in his room. Tom glanced around the confines of the room and knew instinctively everything here was an antique. He’d felt like he was transported back a few centuries when he’d entered the home.

  No doubt about it, this was quite different than the three-room bungalow where he was staying, but he wasn’t complaining. The temperature was warm and he had a roof over his head. Not camping without the convenience of electricity like last year. And for the big paycheck he’d collect in full at the end of his interventions, it was worth everything he’d have to pull off.

  “Hello, Mr. Kreger.”

  He turned to see a man in his fifties, gray at the temples, enter the parlor. “You’re Mr. Brooks?”

  He smiled and nodded. “I am and I’m very anxious to know why I got a message from Maxwell.”

  Tom squirmed in his chair. “Look, call me Tom, and I don’t know if
the message was an ultimatum or what. I’m just an employee delivering a request.”

  “It’s okay, Tom. I’m Gerry to you as well. Maxwell did me a big favor many years ago. I promised if I ever got a chance to pay him back, I would. So, what does the old geezer want me to do?”

  Tom smirked. “Yep you know him all right. It seems he needs your help by setting up a challenge between two snack companies, a challenge for the American Vending Company treat of the decade. But it’s more than a campaign for the snack. Here’s the way he wants you to play it….”

  ****

  Crandall stepped off the small prop plane and smiled at the hostess. “I can’t believe I’ve never heard of Magic Airlines, but it’s a good thing it has service to this place.”

  The woman nodded. “Yes ma’am. In fact, this is the only place it flies. This time of year, anyway.”

  Staring back at the plane, Crandall laughed. “I don’t know who had the idea to paint the reindeer on it, but that’s just too cute for words.”

  The hostess chuckled. “Yep and very efficient. Much better than an open sleigh, don’t you think?”

  “Absolutely.” Cocking her head sideways, Crandall stared at the woman. Strange how short she was for an airline hostess. But after all, it was a prop plane and it’s not like a person can control their height. Still, she really ought to see a doctor about those pointed ears. Crandall sighed. It really wasn’t her place to suggest a plastic surgeon. She cleared her throat and sought for words. “Maybe you can help me. My friend who made the reservations said I’ll be staying at an old mansion. I guess it’s kind of like a bed and breakfast?”

  “Yes ma’am.” The woman nodded. “Holly Heights. The butler there sees to all transportation around the island and back and forth to the only other mansion here. That one’s known as Ivy Hill. I understand there will be a few guests there too.”

  She’d be willing to bet one was Gerald Brooks. Or Zack Graham. The fact was, she didn’t know what either of the men looked like. She’d have to let each guy show his true colors. They couldn’t be cut from the same cloth. One thing for sure, since Zack never appeared in his own ads, he had to be a real dog in the appearance department. All brains and no brawn.