The Magic Touch

The small diner was a bizarre mix of intimate booths, neon lighting and mirrors designed to catch the heads and shoulders of the inhabitants. Sally sat in one of the booths sipping a coffee and apparently making notes or quick sketches in a small notebook. To any casual observer, she was a middle aged, slightly frumpy woman of modest means. She wore a long print dress, covered matronly with a knitted cardigan that would seem out of place outside of the diner on such a hot day. Sunlight burst through the massive display window at the front of the diner, casting the other diners in sharp relief. Sally's left hand was draped lightly in her lap as she concentrated intently on her book.

What none of the diners realized, or could see, was her note taking and sketches were solely focused on the young, fresh-faced couple sitting across from her and one booth down, she had a good view of them, they would have to lean over or turn to see her. In fact, bar her torso and head, she was completely invisible in the shadows to even the older woman serving behind the counter. She wrote copiously about the blonde, blue-eyed man, aged, roughly early 20s, tall, athletically built, with a quick smile and perfect white teeth. His companion was a shorter, similarly aged mousey haired, dark woman in a short dress. She wrote about the couple's appearance, both visible and imagined. Their body types, skin types, the man's bulge, the woman's breasts, and ass. She sketched fantastical doddles of the pair engaged in all sorts of lewd sexual acts, paying particular attention to the graphic portrayals of the man's long, slender penis in the woman's throat and ass. All the while, the thumb of her hand held loosely in her lap rubbed her clitoris through the thin fabric of her dress. She wasn't trying to bring about a climax. She was merely maintaining a heightened level of sexual agitation that added to the frisson of what she was doing.

Later, Sally sat in her car in an alley behind a dingy block of apartments and eventually spotted the young woman slip out of her back door and deposit a sheaf of papers in her trash can out the back. When the girl had retreated inside, Sally looked both ways, and seeing it was clear, sidled over to the trash and retrieved the papers. Once she was sure she hadn't been spotted, she sat in the car and leafed through what turned out to be official correspondence. The young couple, Topanga and Miles, were only recent tenants of the small apartment. In the few months they had lived there, they had run up considerable bills which they seemed prepared to ignore. The management company for the building were threatening eviction, their utility companies were similarly behind in payments, and a local bank was threatening legal action against them both, together and individually, for repayment of a very modest loan. From their standpoint, they were in deep shit. From Sally's, they were perfect.

Topanga totted a running total in her head as she added items frugally to her basket in the large supermarket. She reached for an expensive import beer, then changed her mind and selected a cheap local variety. Boxed mac and cheese followed, a couple of frozen pizzas and a box of own brand toothpaste. The supermarket was already a discount one, what she was buying were their super cheap items. At the deli, she searched for the marked-down, almost out of date cuts. All the while, she was oblivious to the taller, larger, older woman paying close attention to what was on each shelf always a few paces behind her, like a store detective.

Topanga watched the young man run up her groceries. To be more correct, she watched the total flying up on the cash machine, calculating the drop off point. As they approached it, she removed a box of Tide off the belt and whispered almost to herself.

"Don't think I need this."

Sally made her move.

As Topanga's last few items were rung up, Sally lined her expensive ones up on the belt behind. She carefully retrieved the discarded Tide and placed it back on the belt.

"Oh, I don't need that." Sally looked flustered.

"Darling." Sally beamed her best momsy smile. "You never can have enough. Listen, Amazing news! I just had a huge stroke of luck and want to pay it forward a bit so as I don't incur any of that nasty karma the Buddhists are always talking about."

Topanga looked bewildered and worried about her mounting grocery bill and the lack of bills in her purse.

"It would be a massive favor to me, personally, if you would let me pay it forward a small bit by allowing me to cover your purchases today."

"What?" Topanga's bewilderment levels deepened.

"I would like to pay for your groceries, dear." Sally explained. "It would be doing me a considerable favor."

"But why would you do that?" Topanga's forehead creased in perplexed near annoyance.

"I don't need charity."

"Of course you don't darling. And it's not charity. Not the way you think, at least. In fact, more like the opposite. I believe deeply that when some good comes your way, you should balance up the divine ledger somewhat. Pass a little of the good fortune on."

"But that's not necessary." Topanga started.

"Not necessary for you, my dear, but essential for me. I've recently had a large stroke of good fortune and need to do something to balance it. You really would be doing me a biggie."

Sally addressed the young man as he finished ringing up Topanga's groceries. It was an order not a request.

"Just keep running them up, son. Include my few items here and I'll pay for the lot."

"But." Topanga tried to intervene.

"But me not buts, little darling. It's my pleasure. And like I say, you'll be doing me a big favor. Now, I don't want to hear any more about it."

Caught between the gaze of the young man and Sally's broad beam, Topanga relented and uneasily bagged her items.

She waited while Sally handed over a fistful of notes.

"I can't thank you enough." Topanga said and they walked side by side towards the exit, brown bags in hand.

"Pish." Sally said, with an infectious smile. "I'm only glad to be able to do it. Thank you for accepting my butting into your day."

Topanga lapsed into silence, unsure how to react to this kindly, odd woman and her generous gift. She smiled to herself as a brief regret for picking the cheap beer crossed her mind.

Outside, Sally made to walk away, and then stopped.

"By any chance, can I offer you a ride anywhere? I find myself with a gap in my day and am looking for ways to fill it. Oh, but you probably have a car?"

"Em, no, actually. My boyfriend has the car today."

"Perfect! Then let me drop you and your groceries to your door."

Topanga followed Sally to the expensive looking Mercedes parked nearby.

"Is this yours?"

"This is kismet."

"Kismet?"

"Kismet. It's what I call my new car. Oh, if you could only have seen me a few weeks ago. Penniless, about to be evicted, car in the shop with no money to pay for it. Then, I met someone who changed my life completely."

"You met someone?'

"Yes. Hop in and I'll tell you all about it."

Topanga placed her couple of bags on the back seat and sat into the passenger seat. She gave Sally directions and they set off. Topanga has never been in such a grand vehicle. She sank into the leather seats and enjoyed the aircon as they rode the few blocks towards her apartment. Along the way, Sally regaled her with a tale of poverty that sounded even more grim than her own.

"And right when I thought I'd found rock bottom, that's when I met Kent. What an amazing man. Taught me how to turn my luck upside down, just like that. Really had the magic touch and taught me to have it too. Oh, is this your place?" She sounded disappointed not to be able to relate the rest of the story.

"W-would you like to come in?" Topanga stuttered.

"Oh, my dear." She checked her watch. "I really enjoyed our little chat, but I have an appointment."

She could see the relief and disappointment in Topanga's face.

"Oh, of course. Em, thank you for paying for -"

"Now, where's my manners." Sally cut across her.

"I wonder if you could do me one more favor, if it's not too much to ask?"

"Anything." Topanga replied quickly and immediately cursed herself for appearing too eager.

"You really are a darling." Sally smiled and with measured friendliness, placed the flat of her hand on Topanga's bare thigh, unexpectedly sending unfamiliar shivers through her body. "I'm all alone in this town and hate dining solo. I wonder, if you don't have any other plans, whether you might be free to dine with me tonight? I could tell you the rest of my story."

Topanga frowned again, starting slightly at the gesture, unsure of the woman's motives and conscious she was very alone with her in the car. She had never felt so strangely attracted to a woman -- as a friend -- what's more a complete stranger. But she seemed nice enough?

"Oh, and your ... husband, of course?" Sally added, lightly slapping Topanga's thigh before putting her hand back on the wheel, face warm, open and without any sense of a hidden agenda.

"You'd both be doing me a big favor. Again."

"Boyfriend." Topanga said quietly, feeling her flushed cheeks. "I'd have to ask him."

"Excellent. I do get fierce indigestion eating alone. If you both could join me, it would me amazing. My treat!" She slipped a card from the center console and handed it to Topanga.

"My cell's on the card. Sally Bovier." She shook Topanga's hand before slipping the card into it.

"T-Topanga Jenkins."

"Topanga. What a dear sweet name. Wasn't that the name of - Oh, my!" Sally put her hand to her head. "How dumb can I be?"

"What's wrong?"

"I just realized; my meeting will go on for most of the day."

"Oh, that ok." Topanga was surprised to find herself disappointed that dinner might now be off the table.

"Oh, it's not that, my dear. It's my groceries. They'll spoil in the car. Tell you what, could you take them from me? I won't need anything today and you can probably find a home for them in your icebox? Gosh, I'm really blowing through my favors with you."

"I could hold on to them for you." Topanga said eagerly. "Give them back to you later."

"That's sweet, but no, my fault for buying perishables. You hang onto them and put them to good use. I do hate to see things go to waste. And I'll pick you and your boyfriend up around 7?"

"I just have to check."

"Of course, Topanga. I would expect no less. Silly old bat here has been on her own so long, I forgot what it's like to have to check in with someone else."

Sally watched Topanga disappear into her apartment weighed down with brown bags. She smiled thinking about the young woman unpacking the beer she couldn't afford, two mammoth steaks, various vegetables, expensive chocolates, and the bottle of bourbon she'd grabbed on her way round the store. She'd be even more surprised over the coming days to receive mail from her creditors letting her know she was more than up to date on Miles' and her bills.

Two hours later, Sally received a polite text declining her diner invitation. Hmmm. Miles, it would seem, was less of a trusting soul. Never mind. There were more ways than one to sharpen an ax. She would hold off paying off their bills for the moment and concentrate on plan B.

Miles looked up from his detailing as the big black Merc pulled into the car wash lot. He checked his watch. Almost clocking off time. Shit, he just knew his boss would try to squeeze one more in. Monster looked like it would take hours, too. He got back to his finishing touches on the Mazda he was working on and wasn't one bit surprised when he heard his name being called.

True to form, Frank, the slob who owned the place didn't ask, but told him he had another job on and to be sure to close before he left for the day. He watched Frank walk out the door and flung his rag against the wall in frustration. The only thing that made his dead-end job worse was Frank. He walked back out into the lot to the Merc. He was busily eyeing it up and down, anger dissipating quickly at its beauty when he realized it was occupied. A businesswoman in fancy suit sat in the driver's seat. Oh, great. He just knew she was going to be a nightmare.

He tapped lightly on the window which slowly lowered.

"Em, Mam. Probably take a couple of hours to do a good job. There's a restaurant and a few coffee shops on the main street if you'd like to wait." Now the window was open, he good a good look at the driver. She was old. Maybe, like, 50? She was largish, wore a sharp suit, and he couldn't but help catch sight of lace under her half-buttoned blouse that was barely keeping her extremely large breasts in place. Her shapely legs poked out from an expensive looking short black skirt and her hair and make-up looked incredibly well done. All in all, an extremely hot older woman, he thought.

"I just want the car washed." She said, opening the door and getting him to step back. "I can wait, if that's ok?" As she slid sideways in the seat, her purse fell onto the ground and Miles dropped to his knees to collect it and its contents. In the process, he couldn't help himself get a quick glimpse up the woman's skirt. She'd stopped mid exit, and he got an incredible view up her long thighs and into the dark thick bush where they met. She sat like that, half in and half out for a few seconds as if giving him the opportunity to ogle, and it took all of Miles's willpower to drag his eyes away. He felt his cock tent in his trousers.

He stood, self-consciously, holding her purse over his erection and replaced it with his other hand as he held the purse out to her.

"Thank you, young man. Is it ok if I watch you work from over there?" She pointed to the rickety old sofa the detailing crew laughing referred to as 'the staff lounge.

"Sure, mam. Not sure how clean it is."

"I'm no stranger to a bit of dirty." She laughed with a sultry, husky note in her voice as he watched her ass sway as she walked towards it.

"You worked here long?" She asked as she sat. He turned to say, 'not really' and gulped. She was sitting on the couch with her knees apart. His brief glimpse of her no panties pussy was nothing compared to the full floorshow on offer now. A garbled sound escaped his mouth.

"Cat got you tongue?" She smiled, spreading her legs even more.

"I just need to get the hosepipe." He ran across the yard and grabbed the hose and sponge and began to soak the car down. He went to work with renewed vigor, conscious of both the hot older woman and the time. He worked quickly but diligently, conscious all the time of the woman digging holes into his back and ass with her eyes as he worked.

"What's a single girl to do for fun around here?" She asked at one stage.

"Um, I'm not really the one to ask." He stumbled. "Um, me and my girlfriend tend to stay in."

"Shame." She said with a laugh.

In record speed he had her car ready. She wandered over and held out her hand.

"This is for the car." She placed a few bills in his hand, which he took.

"This is for you." She tucked a thicker wad of bills into his shirt pocket.

"I can't -" He started.

"You can and you will." She smiled warmly. "You did a fine job on my car, but I figure you're not totally cut out for detailing work."

"How so?" He gulped.

"You seem ... more driven. Eye on bigger things."

"It's all I can get for work."

"Hmmm. Let's see if I can't fix that." She held out a card.

Miles looked at the card.

"I've seen this before." He said, proffering it to her.

"I know. You keep that." She said. "And make sure Topanga and you make the appointment on the back this time."

"What?" He flipped it over. A handwritten note read: 'Excelsior. 8 pm Friday. Dress smart casual.'

"What's that?"

"It's a job interview. Maybe use some of the money I just gave you to buy Topanga a nice black dress." She smiled, opening the door.

"I promise it will be worth both your time."

She was gone before he had taken it all in.

Who was this woman and what did she want with them? Again?

Friday rolled by and with it came the continuing tide of final demands. Topanga was even door-stopped by a thug who threatened her and Miles. She was at her wits end and intrigued by what Sally might have to offer. It certainly seemed like the woman had singled her -- or more likely them -- out for some purpose. Bumping into her in the supermarket that day hadn't been an accident. But what did she want with them?

With a certain trepidation, and a thrill of excitement, Topanga shimmied into the tight little black dress she'd bought with the money Miles had given her. She checked her form out in the mirror and even see was impressed with what she saw.

Miles drove them to the Excelsior in their crappy car. Topanga had to convince Miles to ditch his baseball hat as they pulled up to the valet parking station. He reluctantly slipped it into the glovebox just before the uniformed valet took their car and gave them a ticket. Topanga was overwhelmed by the décor and opulence of the fanciest restaurant in town. Miles, dressed in his best non jeans and white shirt strutted like a peacock. The Maître d' saved them the embarrassment of not remembering Sally's surname. The second he saw them, he whisked them to a table by the massive veranda doors.

Sally was waiting for them. Topanga was surprised to see the woman was far more glamorous than she remembered, whereas Miles was surprised to see her dressed down for the occasion.

Sally greeted them warmly, kissing Mile's cheek and squeezing Topanga tight to her in an overfamiliar hug. Topanga was conscious of their bodies mashing in the process, a feeling she had suppressed at their last meeting rose to the surface and she quickly dismissed it. They sat and the waiter brought menus. Food and drink was ordered and they settled into a stilted conversation about the weather.

"Right." Sally said after the food had arrived. "To business." Miles leaned forward on his elbows with intention. Topanga looked worried.

"As of twenty minutes ago, your lives changed beyond recognition." Sally began. "You don't have to believe me; you will find out as the evening goes on." She looked between the two sweet faces, amused at their looks of consternation. She remembered her own face had probably looked somewhat similar all those years before.

"At the end of the evening, I will ask you to make a decision. Everything you own up to that point is yours to keep. I wish you nothing but the best. However, should you choose to accept the next step in my offer, the rewards increase exponentially."

"I'm sorry, Sally? What's going on?" Miles cut in. Topanga gave him a not to subtle thump.

"Good things come to those who wait." Smiled Sally.

"I'm going to tell you a story and it's going to seem a little wild. I know it did to me when I heard it first."

"Kent! The magic touch." Exclaimed Topanga clapping her hands.

Sally smiled and nodded.

"Let's start with a bit of context, eh? Towards the end of the War of Independence ..."

"What!" Miles cut in. "That's not context, that's ancient fucking history?"

Topanga shushed him again.

"Towards the end of the War, the British had a number of spies embedded with the colonists. In charge of them was the American Paymaster. He had been given enough money to buy the war. However, instead of passing it on, he fancied himself a New Man in the fashion of the French and the New Americans, so he squirreled it away and faked his death. The British lost their spy ring and the war.

"Years later, the man chose a successor to pass on his wealth to. He developed a simple system to ensure the wealth would always be used for right and also would never diminish. The rules were simple: take what you need, accumulate by doing good, return to the pot what you took with interest, then pass it on.