Chapter 8: Maddie

Maddie felt refreshed and invigorated. She fiddled with the shower controls and selected a tropical waterfall setting, complete with warm, misting sprays. She finished her shower, making sure that all her creamy spunk was washed away. She dressed in one of the inn's fluffy cotton robes and made her way to the kitchen. There was a fancy one cup at a time coffee maker on the counter, so she fired it up and ordered breakfast from room service while the coffee was brewing. She was only halfway through her cup when the door chimed. Three little old ladies rolled in a large service cart. They scurried around, arranging her place setting and lining up the serving trays. When their flurry of motion ended, they stood quietly behind the chair where she would set.

"Uh, nice job ladies," Maddie said.

"Thank you," said the shortest of the three in a German accent. "Can we serve you now?"

"Serve me?" Maddie said. "I've been able to spoon food onto a plate for a while now. Why don't you take a break or something?"

The three women looked at one another and seemed to commune telepathically. The short one said, "Mr. Duggan was explicit. We are to serve the meal."

Maddie sighed in frustration. How in the hell could anyone enjoy a meal with three people hovering over them? Obviously, some people could, but not her. "Okay then," she said and swept her hand through the air over her head. "By royal decree, or whatever it takes, one of you fix me a plate of eggs, bacon, toast and grits. The other two, get mugs from the kitchen and pour yourselves some coffee. Then, I insist that you sit down and tell me the latest gossip; this place must be full of it."

Thirty minutes later, Maddie had eaten twice as much food as she'd thought she would. She sipped at her coffee, wide-eyed, as Martina, the lady from Germany, related a story of how one of the maids had been caught in bed with a male guest ... by another maid ... her lesbian lover who also happened to be her supervisor.

"Oh wow," said Maddie. "Did anyone get punched in the nose?"

"No," said Martina, "but guests three floors away wondered what all the screaming was about." In the end, the supervisor was fired for sexual misconduct; the maid left with the male guest and became his mistress. Martina added that she had heard that the supervisor and the maid had since reconciled. There followed a lively discussion as to whether the male guest knew that his mistress had reunited with her lesbian lover. And most importantly, were they all jumping between the sheets together?

Maddie waited until the discussion as to the state of the maids' relationship died down, and then she said. "Ladies this has been fascinating but I have things to do." She thanked them and went to her bedroom as they hurriedly cleared the table.

Maddie looked at her meager stock of clothing. What did one wear to buy a BMW? Probably anything one wanted as long as one's checkbook was large enough, she thought. Of course, she didn't intend to actually pay for the car, so maybe she ought to dress up a bit. She didn't want to wear her slightly funky clothes from yesterday; she should have had them cleaned. Oh well, there was a boutique off the lobby. Why not use it?

The sales clerk, who was about the same age as Maddie's pretend twenty-one, was delighted to help her pick out a few things. After an hour of trying things on, Maddie settled on two pairs of shorts and three tops, a swim suit and a hand-stitched over the shoulder bag with matching wallet. A thin hand-tooled belt and matching flats were added at the last second. She had to stifle a gasp when she signed the bill. Her accumulated allowance for her entire life wouldn't have paid for this relatively small amount of clothing. She felt both guilty and relieved that she wouldn't have to actually take care of it.

Back in the penthouse, she changed into her new clothes. Her forest green shorts flowed over her hips and ended in cuffs a couple of inches above her knees. Her sleeveless top was butter yellow with a pointed collar. The top button was low enough to show cleavage. She switched over her purse and slipped on her new shoes. Checking herself in the mirror, she decided that, yes indeed, she did look like someone who could shop for a BMW. Before leaving, she called the front desk and asked for a cab.

Something about calling for the cab made her think. She had assumed Steve Hamilton would be at work. Hell, she should have made an appointment. He might be somewhere in Germany doing two-hundred miles per hour on a track. She called the dealership and found out that yes Mr. Hamilton was in today, and yes he was available to talk to customers. The receptionist said it all in a you-don't-have-to-bother-the-boss-with-your-petty-problems tone of voice. Maddie thanked her and ended the call. It seemed that Hamilton had at least one admirer on his staff.

When she stepped out of the elevator into the lobby, James Duggan was standing there, wringing his hands. "Good morning, Ms. Parton," he said anxiously. "Is everything all right? How was your night ... your breakfast?"

"Fine, good, everything's great, Jimmy," Maddie said with a frown because he looked awful. Duggan had sunken, red-rimmed eyes. He was in the same suit he'd worn the day before, but in a fresh shirt. She could tell, because she could see the creases of a new out of its package dress shirt. "Were you here all night?" she asked.

"Yes ... yes, I thought you might need something," Duggan said. He looked as if he'd admitted to some horrible crime.

Maddie sighed. She'd gone overboard with Jimmy. Clearly, the use of her superpower, or whatever it was, needed to be tailored even when she aimed to overwhelm. She put her hand on his shoulder, careful not to zap him, and said, "Jimmy, you've got to live your life. Get some rest. I'll call you if I need you."

"Really? I mean ... of course, just call the desk if you need anything ... anything at all," he said from one step behind and to the left of Maggie as they crossed the lobby. When they got to the glass outer door, Duggan leapt in front and held it open for her. The earthy smell of rain drenched foliage swept in from the golf course. It looked as if it had been raining until a few minutes prior. A dark red passenger van sat gleaming wetly in the drive; its elderly driver slid open a side door.

"I ... I hope this van is all right, cabs can be so nasty," Jimmy said.

"Thank you Jimmy, this is very nice of you," Maddie said. "Now get some rest or do I have to give you orders?"

Duggan looked disturbed. He glanced at the driver and said in a low voice, "Please don't make me leave. I have to finish most of my shift."

"Okay, but take it easy," Maddie said and entered the van.

Several minutes later she stepped out of the van. It had stopped under the portico to the main door of the Hamilton BMW dealership. She dismissed the driver and stepped inside. The showroom stretched for a couple of hundred feet. Windows overlooking the new car lot were to her left. A receptionist fronted a long standup desk where sales people stood chatting into phones or to each other. The right side of the showroom was dedicated to cubicles where the deals were hammered out. In the middle was a string of immaculately cleaned and polished new BMWs.

"Are you being helped?" said a male voice at her elbow. Maddie turned to see a smiling middle-age man with a thin face and a beak of a nose. He peered at her through a pair of narrow glasses.

"I was hoping to see Steve Hamilton," she said.

He nodded as if he had half expected her to say that. "His office is this way," he said.

They walked the length of the showroom, passing near the cars. Maddie noticed a Z4, the small two-seater that Jason liked. It was navy blue, sat low to the ground and had sexy curves. She liked it.

They turned a corner into what was obviously an office area. Through an open door, Maddie could see three women working busily at their desks. The man tapped at a door across the hall, opened it and stuck his head in. "Someone to see you," he said.

Maddie couldn't hear the reply, but the man stepped back and ushered her in. Hamilton's office wasn't large, but it had a nice wooden desk and two leather upholstered visitor's chairs. His desk contained a laptop, a business phone, a very tall cup of coffee and an open newspaper. The man didn't look as if he was in danger of being overwhelmed with work.

Covering two walls of the office were numerous pictures of Hamilton at various race tracks. They showed him shaking hands in congratulations, pumping his fist in the air, accepting trophies or holding the trophies aloft with a huge grin on his face. The trophies themselves were perched on glass shelves at intervals around the office.

A man neatly dressed in pressed khakis and a knit shirt with the company logo stood as she walked in. "Hi, Steve Hamilton," he said with a broad smile.

"I'm Maddie," she said. They shook hands, but Maddie didn't take the opportunity to zap him. Actually, she kind of forgot about it. Hamilton was cute. His hair was short and carefully styled. His teeth were even and white. He had a warm smile, and best of all he had dimples to die for. He looked trim and fit ... and really wasn't very tall. If she had been wearing heels, she would have had a really good look at the top of his head.

"Please have a seat," Hamilton said. He made sure that Maddie was seated before he sat in his office chair. "Can I get you a coffee, soda?" he asked.

"No, thank you," said Maddie.

"I drink too much coffee, obviously," Hamilton said, gesturing at his tall, heavy plastic cup. "So what can I do for you?"

Maddie said, "My brother is a fan of yours, he says you're an excellent driver." She glanced around at the trophies and pictures.

Hamilton smiled and said, "Well, you put the good stuff on your vanity wall. There isn't room for all the crashes and poor finishes."

"You're being modest," Maddie said. "I also hear that you're a great teacher." She was surprised at how easily the flattery flowed out of her.

"I like teaching," he said with a shrug. "I give safety lectures to students. I like to think that I'm not so old they won't relate to me. Sometimes I give them driving instruction. I give seminars to law enforcement about how to handle their cars in a pursuit, and I give tips to budding drivers every now and then."

There's an opening if I ever heard one, Maddie thought. She took a deep breath and said, "Speaking of budding drivers, I haven't had much experience and I came here hoping you could give me instruction. I know this is out of the blue, but my life has been pretty hectic and I need to get this done. As payment, I'll take one of your cars off your hands. I won't even haggle over the price."

Hamilton rocked back in his chair and tilted his head. "And when would this take place?" he asked.

"I have the rest of the day free. Don't worry, I'm a quick study," she said with a confident smile. She was confident that she could walk around his desk and zap Hamilton into submission, but she didn't want to. It would be easy to go too far and turn him into someone who would rather fawn over her than teach her anything.

Hamilton chuckled. He said, "I've had team managers who would assure you that I can tell you everything I know about car handling in five minutes."

"Again, you're being modest," Maddie said.

"Okay," Hamilton said thoughtfully. He turned to his computer and tapped at the keys. Looking satisfied at what he'd seen; he picked up his phone and pressed a button. "Mary," he said, "Please call Dad's office and tell them we'll have to reschedule that conference call. I'm going to be with a customer. You can call my cell if anything comes up." After a few more exchanges he hung up and smiled at Maddie. He stood and said, "All right, if you'll put yourself in my hands, so to speak, I have just the place for driving lessons."

"Cool, I'm ready," she said.

They left Hamilton's office. Instead of returning to the showroom, he led her to another door. He input a code into a digital lock and ushered her outside into a small parking lot. "What kind of car did you have in mind?" he asked over his shoulder as they walked.

"That Z4 in the showroom is cute," Maddie said.

"They are nice," Hamilton said. "In fact I drive this one." He had stopped next to a new, red Z4. "Hop in."

A minute later, they were on the road. Hamilton drove quickly, but smoothly and with confidence. "So tell me about racing in Europe," Maddie said to forestall having to talk about herself.

Hamilton launched into a litany of people's names, places, cars and races of which Maddie recognized only a few. But it kept him occupied until they made a turn next to a sign that said, "Hamilton Farms Raceway, Private." Hamilton slowed enough to wave at a security officer housed in a tiny building in the middle of the drive.

"You own your own racetrack?" Maddie asked.

"Well," said Hamilton, "officially, I'm only one of the members, but my family owns the property and we lease it to the club. My father is fond of saying that we could make more money putting the land in soybeans or corn. I guess that's why he's constantly reelected to the clubs steering committee."

They went down a drive, through a gate and down the road between a double row of garages, most of which were closed. They stopped at another small guardhouse. A portly man with a clipboard stepped out.

"Hey, Don. How's it goin'?" Hamilton asked.

Don managed to lower his bulk enough to peer into the car. "Hey, Steve, Ma'am," he said. "Going to do some laps?"

"I thought we would," Hamilton said. "Anything going on?"

"No, I think the rain scared everyone off. Go ahead, mind the wet spots," Don said.

"Thanks," said Hamilton and pulled ahead through yet another gate, turned right and veered left onto the track itself, around which he drove at a surprisingly sedate pace. He pointed to a puddle that had formed at the edge of one curve and said, "There's a drain down there. I bet it's stopped up with leaves again."

"Oh, you're checking the road," Maddie said.

"Yes," said Hamilton, "I guess you'd like to go a little faster?"

"Uh, only if you think it's safe," Maddie said.

"Safe enough," Hamilton said with a grin. At that point, they had finished a lap. He shifted down a gear and put his right foot on the floor. They roared toward the first corner until Maddie was sure they'd crash. She was thrown against the safety belt when Hamilton braked suddenly and smoothly. In a second they were through the corner and accelerating. Two laps later, Hamilton came to a stop in the middle of the track. He turned to Maddie and said, "So, what do you think?"

"That was so much fun," she gushed. "I thought we'd be on public roads; this is way better."

Hamilton laughed and said, "I've seen grown men thank me and step away from the car very quickly after that ride. I'm glad you liked it. And now it's your turn." He turned off the engine and stepped out.

Maddie slowly unfastened her seatbelt and slid out of the car. For all the smarts the charm had given her, she had been pretty dumb to not anticipate this situation. Steve was a racer; of course his idea of driving lessons was this ... on the track. Why she had thought they would spend their time puttering around back roads seemed silly now. Oh well, time behind the wheel was time behind the wheel.

Hamilton held the door as she took her place in the driver's seat. The seat was highly adjustable, and he took his time moving it incrementally until he was sure she within easy reach of the controls.

"I have to confess something," Maddie said once he was in the passenger's seat.

"Let me guess," he said. "You don't know how to use a manual transmission."

"I'm sorry, I don't," she said.

"Don't worry," Hamilton said. "A lesson on how not ruin the clutch and transmission on my personal car is included free of charge. Now first..."

And so they were off. Maddie's first lap was painfully awkward. The second one was better and they all pretty much improved from there. She surrendered herself to the moment, listening and learning from everything Steve had to say. Concentrate. Be smooth.

Maddie shifted into fourth gear on the track's short straightaway. She had been driving for more than an hour. Steve had told her to not pay attention to the speedometer, but she sneaked a peek anyway. The needle was climbing past a hundred miles-per-hour. Wow, she wished Jason could see her now. This was totally cool stuff.

"Pull off the track at the end of this lap," Hamilton told her.

"Why ... did I do something wrong?" Maddie asked.

He laughed and said, "No, but we're almost out of gas. Plus, I had too much coffee this morning and I'm about to spring a leak. Plus, it's time we had some lunch.

"Oh, okay" Maddie said with a giggle. Now that she thought of it, she was famished. She followed his directions and shortly they were parked next to what looked like an old farmhouse that sat beside some sort of tower. Inside was a small dining room. It was empty except for two men drinking coffee and a large blonde behind a bar. Hamilton greeted everyone by name, waved two fingers at the blonde, told Maddie to get a table and then practically ran down a hallway.

The blonde was wearing a nametag above her ample bosom that read "Maxine." She carried two bottles of beer and two frosted glasses from behind the bar. "Any where's fine darlin, ' " she said. "Did you want a beer? That's what he usually gets."

"Fine, thank you," said Maddie. She pulled out the nearest chair to a four place table and sat. "Does Steve bring guests often?"

"Guests?" Maxine said. She expertly poured one of the beers down the side of a tilted glass. "Between us girls, let's just say I looked to see if you were familiar when you came through the door."

"I understand," Maddie said.

By the time Maxine had poured both beers, and placed a menu consisting of a single sheet of laminated paper before Maddie, Steve had returned. "Thanks, Max," he said. "I heartily recommend the burger," he said to Maddie as he sat.

"Hard to avoid," said Maddie. The menu was nothing but burgers, toppings and condiments. The only sides were a selection of pickle spears and chips. She ordered a double with cheese and plenty of toppings.

"I like a woman with an appetite," Steve said after Maxine had left with their orders.

"You'll love me then," Maddie replied. The sight of the beer made her as thirsty as she was hungry. She lifted her glass and drained most of it. As she suppressed a belch, she decided that beer was definitely an acquired taste. Being very cold and crisp was nice, though.

Steve studied her over rim of his glass as he took several healthy swallows of beer. "So, what do you do?" he asked.

"I've been at school," Maddie said, "but I think I'm going to give that a rest for a while."

"What were you studying?"

Maddie shrugged. "Uh, general stuff, nothing specific."

"A woman of mystery," Hamilton said with a grin. "I know one thing about you. You're a hell of a driver. I've never seen anyone pick up on technique so fast." He sipped his beer. "Maybe a little too fast. Are you a ringer? Did my mother send you to fix us up?"

"What? No," said Maddie. "I find it hard to believe your mother has to get you a date."

"She doesn't, but that doesn't stop her from throwing women at me who she thinks are socially acceptable," he said.

"Socially acceptable ... probably not me," Maddie said.

"I don't know about that," Hamilton said. "Beautiful women have a way of becoming socially acceptable."

Maddie was saved from having to reply because Maxine had turned on a television above the bar. There was a baseball game on. Thanks to her father and brother, Maddie could talk baseball. They watched the game until Maxine showed up with their food and another round of beers.

Thirty minutes later, Maddie washed down her last bite of hamburger with the last of her beer. She dabbed at her lips with a napkin and said, "Thanks, that was really good."

Hamilton shook his head and said, "I can't believe you ate all that." He leaned back and rubbed his hand over his stomach. "Hell, I don't believe I ate all that. Want to get a little exercise to walk off some of this?"

"Okay," Maddie said. Hamilton signed the bill and they left by a side door. Maddie found herself at the base of the tower she'd seen earlier; a series of steps stretched upward for fifty or sixty feet.

"Afraid of heights?" Hamilton asked with a tone of challenge.

"Not that I know of," said Maddie. She started up the stairs at a brisk pace. When she reached the landing at the top, she felt invigorated. The tower could have been twice as high as far as she was concerned. She turned to see Hamilton trudging across the landing below. When he saw that he was being watched, he trotted up the last flight, breathing heavily.

"You're in really good shape," he said in between gasps of air.

"We should have raced," Maddie said with a smile.

Hamilton sliced his hand sideways in a negative gesture as he passed her and opened the door to the room at the top of the tower. He flipped switches. Lights came on and an air conditioner fan roared to life.

Maddie stepped inside. The room was about twelve feet on a side. Windows enclosed the space all the way around. A low counter ran along the base of the windows that faced the track. Computers under dust covers were here as well as office chairs. Behind the chairs were several stools placed to look over the chairs. On the opposite side of the room was a small refrigerator topped by a coffee maker. Next to that was a table messy with coffee paraphernalia. An overflowing trashcan was under the table.

"Oh, this is like race control," said Maddie. She could see the entire track from here.

"Yeah," said Hamilton. His breathing was returning to normal. "It's really pretentious for an operation our size, but our membership has more money than brains sometimes."

Maddie giggled appreciatively. She slowly turned in a circle as she looked out the windows and said, "It's a nice view. I suppose you own the land as far as the eye can see?"

"Uh, well, my family owns a pretty good chunk of it," Hamilton said. "You see that place on the hill over there?" Maddie nodded at the sight of a sprawling ranch style house in the distance. "It has twenty rooms and Dad calls it our country cabin."

"Nice," said Maddie. "So when you give me that Z4 back at the dealership, it won't be any kind of a hardship."

Hamilton laughed. "It's kind of early in our relationship to talk about expensive gifts, isn't it?"

"I may be skipping a few steps, but I think we're following your plan." Maggie said. She remembered Pete from a few days ago; their walk along the river and his sneaky way of winning a kiss. Of course Pete had won more than he planned on. Apparently, he'd become her lifelong admirer ... to put it lightly. Was she about to do the same with Steve?

"What plan?" Hamilton said.

"The plan," Maddie said, "where you bring a young lady to the track, get her weak in the knees with a few hot laps, give her a couple of drinks and then bring here up here. Now she's woozy and maybe frightened by the height, and there you are with your blue eyes and dimples and comforting smile ready to assure her safety with an intimate hug."

"You've read too many romance novels," Hamilton said with a grin. "Let me point out the flaws in my plan ... your plan ... the plan, whatever. You thought those laps I did at speed were 'fun' if I recall. The beers you drank might as well have water as far as I can tell, plus you practically ran up here without drawing a deep breath. No one can say you're woozy and in need of comfort."

"Well," said Maddie. "I..."

"But," Hamilton interrupted by raising his index finger. "There are still my blue eyes, my dimples and my winning smile. How's that working for me?"

"Not bad," Maddie said in a whisper. He really did have captivatingly blue eyes. They had already been standing close together in the blast of cool air from the air conditioner. It was easy for Steve to put his hand around her waist and kiss her.

Wow, he's a hell of a kisser, Maggie thought. Firm lips, moist, and more than a little demanding. Maddie couldn't help it; her power trickled into the kiss and he held her tighter. She liked this guy; she didn't want to turn him into a babbling worshiper. But she would if it got her what she wanted. The power of the charm was intoxicating. Was it turning her into a monster? Don't be silly, she told herself. It's just a car he can easily afford. And damn, he's a good kisser.

She snuggled into his arms. They exchanged short, wet kisses with open mouths and tongues that flashed back and forth. Maddie trickled in more power. She could feel his hardness. His hands moved restlessly. It was as if he really wanted to grab her ass and feel up her tits, but he was restraining himself.

Maddie put her hands on his shoulders and pushed their bodies apart, at least from the waist up. His charming, blue eyes were full of lust and longing. She didn't think she could order him around; at least not any more than any other woman could at this point.

"I suppose you want to fuck me," she said lightly.

Her frankness didn't seem to faze him. With a smile he said, "Well, I guess you can tell that's not a rocket in my pocket, and that I'm really, really glad to see you. But not here. I was thinking more in terms of a candle lit dinner, lots of champagne and then a large, comfortable bed where I would, indeed, fuck you long and hard and repeatedly."

"That's very sweet," she said. But it doesn't get me a car today, she thought. She put her hand on the lump in his khakis and made sure his erection was painfully insistent. She smiled as his pretty blue eyes rolled up in his head and he bit his lower lip. "Wouldn't you like for me to take the edge off, so to speak?" she asked.

"If you want," he said as if he very much wanted her to.

Maddie daintily unzipped his pants. He was wearing very soft and silky boxers. It was no problem to bring his stiff cock into the open. Steve wasn't well endowed, but he had nothing to be ashamed of. She trickled in tiny bits of her sexual power as she barely stroked him with thumb and forefinger. She wanted to give him enough for a single blast of pleasure. She wanted to see what that would do to his mind.

Maddie watched his face. Steve was staring sightlessly into the distance. His mouth hung open and his breath came in shallow, irregular gasps. His hips jerked back and forth. The head of his cock was deep purple; he was about to lose it. She put her finger on top of his cock-shaft. She wanted to put in the least amount of her power to take him over the edge. She imagined the tiniest spark of energy. Steve moaned and grabbed the back of a stool for support as hips jutted forward. He was going to explode.

That was when Maddie heard the hollow metallic thud of someone trudging up the stairs. "Stop," she snapped at Steve.

"Wha ... what?" Steve groaned plaintively as he grabbed his cock and stroked it frantically.

"Zip it up. Someone's coming," she said.

She went and stood just inside the door. Through the glass, she could see the bald head of a man slowly ascending the stairs. As he arose above the metal railing, she saw that he was an elderly man dressed in gray work clothes, carrying a bucket of cleaning supplies. He was startled and took a step back when he saw Maddie smiling at him. She twiddled her fingers in greeting.

She heard a zipper zipping and glanced around to make sure Steve was presentable. He seemed dazed. He had one hand in his pants pocket and the other on the back of a stool. That would have to do, she thought. She opened the door and said brightly, "Hi, we came up for the view. I hope we didn't break any rules."

The man spoke to Maddie's chest. "No, Miss, you're fine." He glanced over her shoulder after getting an eyeful. "Hi, Mr. Hamilton. I didn't know there was anyone up here. I came up to clean after last weekend," he said to Steve.

"No problem, Walt. We were about to leave," Steve said in a voice that wasn't as casual as it had been. The three people shuffled past one another, and then Maddie and Steve, side by side, slowly descended the stairs. Steve still had his hand in his pocket as he slid his other hand along the roughly painted angle iron that served as a railing. Halfway down the tower he stopped on a landing that faced the interior of the iron supports. His hand flashed up and down the front of his pants.

"Is there a problem?" Maddie asked.

Steve's face was a mask of intense concentration. "I was on the edge of an orgasm back in the control room and I can't finish," he said through tight lips.

Did I do that, Maddie wondered? She decided to play innocent and said, "I understand these things happen to guys. They sat it's nothing to worry about."

Steve stopped and looked at her. "They say that when a guy can't get it up. That's really not the problem here."