The Magic Touch

by Dara England

  The Magic Touch

  By Dara England

  Smashwords Edition

  Copyright © 2011 Dara England

  Edited by Anne Victory

  Cover art by Dara England

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Excepting brief review quotes, this book may not be reproduced in whole or in part without the express written permission of the copyright holder. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, real events, locations, or organizations is purely coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  For my boys, Chris and Sampson.

  Chapter One

  The door opened and a bleary-eyed, unshaven face beneath a shock of dark hair appeared. Squinting into the brighter light of the hall, the young man looked dazed as he took in the sight of her standing before him, but Ambrielle wasn’t fazed by that. It was one o’clock in the morning and in her business you didn’t exactly call ahead.

  At the guy’s feet, a little red dachshund poked its inquisitive nose out into the hall and viewed her with the same sleepy eyes as its owner.

  “Can I, uh, can I help you?” the guy asked.

  She had always liked his voice. It was blunt and honest, just like the man to whom it belonged. Even groggy, half asleep, and reeking with the sour odor of old beer, or maybe because of all these things, he was very readable. She could have traced the worries written across his face like lines on a page, even if she hadn’t watched over him all of his twenty-eight years.

  His eyes were ambient gold, not just a simple shade of brown but the unique hue of autumn maple leaves under the glow of an early morning sun. They could hide nothing, those eyes. The contours of his face were lean, but attractively so, his high cheekbones contrasting with a wide jaw and a long, tapering nose with a slight hump in the middle where he had busted it falling off a slide as a kid. He bore a matching scar from the same accident across his left eyebrow. Both dark brows were drawn together now in a puzzled expression.

  He was still waiting for her to answer. Ambrielle smiled. “No, Danny, I don’t need any help. As a matter of fact, I’m here to help you.”

  He didn’t open the door any further but suddenly looked alert. “I don’t understand. Have we met?”

  She tilted her head. “Let’s just say I’ve watched you, but you haven’t seen me.”

  “Okaaay…” He looked uneasy and she felt his tawny gaze sweeping her up and down, from the tips of her pink painted toenails to the top of her dark head of curls. She was well aware her figure showed nicely under her fitted blouse and short, white skirt. She had wanted to make a good impression for this first meeting and had dressed with more care than usual.

  Oddly, he didn’t seem impressed. “Uh, thanks anyway,” he said, backing away, “But I don’t need help with anything. I’m doing just fine.”

  As simply as that, he would have shut the door in her face, had Ambrielle not been quick thinking enough to stick one high-heeled shoe in the door. “Now you know that’s just not true, Danny. How can you be fine when you’ve just broken up with Charlotte? Again.”

  The look he turned on her was a mixture of surprise and annoyance. “Listen, I don’t know how you know my name or about me breaking up with my girlfriend, but it’s none of your business. I don’t even know who you are.”

  She wasn’t to be deterred that easily. “My name’s Ambrielle,” she introduced herself.

  When he simply stared at the carefully manicured hand she offered, she shrugged. She hadn’t expected this to be easy.

  Luckily, she still had her high heel wedged in the door and she used that leverage now to squeeze her petite frame through the doorway, careful not to step on the curious little dachshund sniffing around her feet.

  “Hey, what are you doing?” Despite his protests, he had no alternative but to give ground. It was either that or stand toe-to-toe with her, allowing her to thrust her face within inches of his. It was clear he wasn’t eager to be that close to her. But that didn’t mean he was giving up.

  “Listen,” he said as she shouldered her way into the apartment, “I don’t know what you’re trying to do but you can’t just force your way in here. I’ll call the landlord, don’t think I won’t. If you’re a tenant here, I can get you evicted.”

  Ambrielle ignored his threats, surveying her surroundings under the dim lighting of several glowing lamps scattered throughout the space. Her nose wrinkled with distaste. “What is that smell?”

  No answer was necessary. A quick scan of the living area and the open kitchenette told her the moldy odor could have originated any one of a dozen places. The kitchen sink overflowed with filthy dishes, the garbage was spilling refuse out onto the hardwood floor. The black linoleum countertop dividing the kitchenette from the living room was smeared with what may or may not have been peanut butter. And that was just the start.

  As she strolled further into the room, she took in the wreckage that was the living room. The furnishings were tasteful, she noted with approval. The brown leather sofas and armchairs fit well with the dark oak floors and the warmer color scheme of the walls and trim. But what would have been a cozy effect was spoiled by the way every available surface was cluttered with magazines, dirty clothes, used dishes, and odd bits of litter.

  Danny broke into her observations. “I’m warning you one last time, you’d better get out.” He moved to the coffee table and snatched up a cell phone resting amid a scattering of old newspapers. “Last chance,” he said. “I’m going to make that call.”

  Ambrielle sighed. “Put the phone down, Danny. I know as well as you that you’re bluffing.”

  “You’ve got to stop talking like you know me.” But he set the phone down, as she’d known he would.

  “I see I’ve come none too soon,” she remarked, more to herself than to him, as she removed a pair of tennis shoes from an armchair and dusted off the seat. “Your housekeeping skills are deteriorating as fast as your relationship with Charlotte.”

  As soon as she sat down, the little dachshund, now wide awake, sprang into her lap, tail wagging furiously, eyes begging for attention.

  “Brutus, get down,” Danny ordered absently, but clearly his mind wasn’t on the dog. He appeared disturbed by Ambrielle’s actions, no doubt because they signaled her intent to stay awhile.

  Ambrielle scratched behind the disobedient dachshund’s ears before gently pushing it back to the floor, where it crouched at her feet and gazed up at her with adoring eyes. At least she had one ally here.

  “Look,” Danny said, “I’m sure you’re a very sweet person and doubtless you have your reasons for whatever it is that you’re trying to do here. But you can’t just let yourself into my apartment without being invited. I’m having a bad night, it’s been a long, difficult week, and— Are you listening?”

  She pulled her attention back from the series of framed family photos lining the end table at her elbow. “Why don’t you visit home anymore?” she asked. “You keep pictures of your mom and dad here. Clearly you love them. Why don’t you ever go back? I know your mom misses you.”

  The remark stopped him cold. “How do you know my family?” he asked.

  “Hey, no need to get overprotective,” she admonished. “I wouldn’t hurt any of them for the world. But I love that you worry about them.”

  “Are you somebody I used to know back home?” he asked, suddenly studying her in a different light. “Did you go to Longfield High?”

  “Definitely not,” she laughed. “But I watched you go there. I saw every prank you ever played on the lunch lady and even watched you join the basketball team to impress Hottie Haley Hart. Watched you get kicked off the team, too.” She so
bered at the memory. “That was a depressing show. Couldn’t you have at least tried to get our team a basket once in a while? The other fairy godmothers were laughing me off the sidelines.”

  He made a strange, choking sound. “The other what?”

  Chapter Two

  “You heard me.” She picked up an empty mug from the end table and examined the brownish stains ringing the bottom. “Do you think you could wash this out and bring me some more of whatever was in it? I’m usually snoozing at this hour, so I could use a cup or two of coffee to pick me up.”

  He didn’t seem to hear the request. “What did you just call yourself?”

  She sighed. “Honey, I hate repeating myself. I’m only gonna give you the rundown one time and then I’ll field questions. So keep quiet and listen and try not to say “what?” too many times. It makes you look stupid and I know you’re not an idiot. You’re a bright guy when you want to be.”

  “Thanks,” he said sarcastically. “It’s always nice to get a good report from my fairy-godmother. Seriously, I think it’s time for you to go.”

  “And leave all your questions unanswered and your life in a shambles?”

  “Assuming I have questions, I don’t think any of them can be answered by a crazy lady who thinks she’s my fairy-godmother. And my life isn’t in any “shambles”. He was starting to look impatient.

  She shook her head. “No cases are as hopeless as the ones who don’t even know they’re lost. Listen, whether you recognize it or not, your life has run far off the track, and if I don’t take a hand soon it’s going to be a colossal train wreck. That’s why I’ve come to you now. We godmothers don’t get to step in and appear to our protégés any time we like. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. That’s why you and I have to make this visit count.”

  “Visit?” he looked perplexed.

  “That’s right. You’re mine for the next twenty-four hours and I’ve got just that amount of time to straighten your affairs out. And that’s going to take some work. Luckily, I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve because, brother, I’m going to need them all.”

  He snorted. Running a long-fingered hand through his dark curls, he looked torn between annoyed disbelief and grudging interest.

  “I suppose you’ve got a magic wand up your sleeve, too,” he said.

  She sensed now was the moment to bring out the big guns. “Never carry wands up my sleeve; I’ve lost too many that way. No, the proper place for a wand is stowed away somewhere safe.”

  She dragged her tiny, beaded handbag off her elbow and reached inside.

  He raised his eyebrows and she was surprised to note the hint of a smile lurking around the edge of his lips. “Of course. You carry your magic wand around in your purse.”

  “You needn’t sound so skeptical.” She dug around in the shallow pocket a moment before finding what she wanted and slipping it out into the open.

  Danny was unimpressed. “That’s your wand? A tube of lipstick?”

  She smiled. “Ah, Danny, always such a doubter. Educating you is going to be more fun than I’d expected.”

  Swirling the tube of lipstick in the air three times, she silently mouthed the spell she knew by heart and, quick as magic, the short tube transformed into a twelve-inch rod, light as paper and clear as glass.

  Danny started at the transformation. “What—? How—?”

  She waved him to silence. “Questions later. First, let’s get this roach den cleared out. The smell in here’s about to make me sick.”

  Remaining frozen in place, he seemed unable to tear his gaze away from the glass wand in her hand. Softly, as if to himself, he muttered, “I can’t believe it. Somebody tell me I’m just having a crazy dream.”

  She looked around distastefully. “I don’t know what kind of dreams you have but if this were one of my dreams, there wouldn’t be moldy pizza on the coffee table. But never mind, it’s easily taken care of.”

  Again muttering a low string of secret words under her breath, she flicked the wand in the general direction of the dirty coffee table. Instantly, paper trash, old half-eaten food, and every other kind of clutter covering the tabletop lifted into the air.

  Mind on her task, she tuned out everything else and was scarcely aware of Danny’s bugged-out eyes as he watched her perform her magic. One mess after another, she waved her wand at them and bid them all carry themselves to their proper places. Paper plates and carryout boxes floated through the air to drop into the full trashcan. Filthy heaps of clothes and mud-encrusted shoes slithered or walked along the floor, propelled by an invisible force as strong as any human hand.

  As if of their own accord, the handles over the faucet of the kitchen sink turned on and hot water began spewing out onto the pile of dirty dishes. When it could hold no more garbage, the bag in the trashcan tied its own mouth closed and leapt out of the can, floating over to lean against the front door. A kitchen drawer opened and a new bag popped out to replace the old.

  Ambrielle walked through the entire apartment like that, moving from room to room, pausing only long enough to murmur a few magic words and give a wave of her wand to set the rooms to tidying themselves.

  Danny followed after her, mouth hanging open in a very unattractive way, but Ambrielle told herself she shouldn’t be too hard on him. A lot of people had never seen magic before and it took some getting used to. Besides it must feel to him as if this was all happening very fast.

  By the time they had made their circuit of the small apartment and were back in the living room, he had at least managed to stop gaping like a fish. “I uh, think maybe I’m ready to hear that explanation now about what you are and why you’re here.”

  She had to give him credit for a reasonably steady voice. His legs must have been weaker than he was letting on, however, because he dropped heavily to the couch.

  She took pity on him. “Poor baby, you’re having a hard time with this, aren’t you?” She sank into the armchair opposite him. “Maybe I should have introduced myself and my magic in a less shocking way.”

  He just shook his head. “You’re not even as old as I am,” he said disbelievingly. “How can you be my godmother?”

  She smiled sympathetically. “Now you’re talking silly. I’m hundreds of years older than you. We godmothers just age slowly, that’s all.”

  “So you can live forever?”

  “Of course not, nobody lives forever. But I do have an extended life span, as a side effect from so many years spent working with magic.”

  “And you use your magic for what?”

  “To look out for you, naturally. You might say you’re the whole purpose of my existence. But don’t go and get a big head over it. Disappoint me too much and I can always abandon you to handle your own troubles.”

  “My troubles?”

  “Don’t pretend you don’t know what I mean. Anyone can see you need help managing your life. I’ve let you do it your way for nearly thirty years and look how far it’s gotten you. You’re unhappily single and you have a terrible job.”

  “Actually, I have a very good job.”

  “A very good paying job that you hate,” she amended. “That’s hardly indicative of a bright future. Then there’s Charlotte.”

  For the first time since learning her identity, he showed signs of annoyance again. “Don’t worry about Charlotte. I’ll get her back and I don’t need your help to do it.”

  She didn’t allow herself to be ruffled. “That just shows how little you know your own abilities. Charming the ladies has never been one of your talents. It didn’t win you Hottie Haley Hart, did it?”

  “That’s none of your business.”

  “On the contrary. Anything that affects you is completely my business. I’ve told you, I exist for no other purpose but to guide your life.”

  Apparently he didn’t like the sound of that, because he became suddenly abrupt. “This is crazy. This is not happening to me.”

  He rushed to his feet but as soon as he got t
here he appeared uncertain as to what to do with himself. He began pacing around the coffee table. “I know you’re real,” he said, as if working things out in his mind. “I’ve seen your magic and I’m surrounded by the results, so there’s no use denying it.”

  “I’m glad we agree on that.”

  “But there’s something else I know, too, and that is that there’s only so much a man can take in a single day. I’ve lost my girlfriend, as you’ve already pointed out, and as you no doubt also know, my job is just hanging by a thread. Any day now I expect to be the next victim of the downsizing. They’ve already taken out half the department. And now, on top of everything else, there’s… well, you. I just don’t think I can handle all this right now. I’m sorry.”

  Chapter Three

  She frowned. “What are you getting at? This sounds like your break-up speech from two girlfriends ago.”

  He glared, probably unhappy to discover yet another personal event in his life she’d been an invisible witness to. “I’m saying I’m going to have to let you go. Or however it is that you fire a fairy godmother. I release you from your ties to me and I set you free. Whatever. Just don’t be hovering around in the sky watching me anymore. It’s enough to give a guy the creeps.”

  She straightened in her chair to fix him with an evil look. “Is this the thanks I get for going out of my way help you? I have other things to do with my time, you know. Do you think I don’t have other charges to look after? That’s right, believe it or not, baby-sitting you isn’t my idea of a great way to spend the next twenty-four hours, either.”

  “Then why do it?” he shot back.

  She hesitated. It was a sticky point he’d brought up, one she’d hoped not to have to share. She fiddled with the bangle bracelets on one slender wrist and suddenly found an excuse to look anywhere but at him. “You could say this is a special assignment for me, a chance to, well…” There was no way around it. She might as well admit the truth. “A chance to redeem myself, so to speak.”