by Diana Fraser
Maddy was scanning the menu. “The house salad, please.”
“Is that all?” he asked. “That’s not enough to keep body and soul together. And I was hoping you’d be working hard for me this afternoon.”
“You’re thinking about yourself, as usual,” said Amber, although she looked approving.
“You know me.”
“I do.” They exchanged glances which said more than words.
“Gabe’s right. Have something more than that.” Amber looked around and bowed her head to Maddy’s. “It has to be said our salads are pretty measly. I’d go for the veggie burger and chips if I were you. It’s all home-made, no additives—I make sure of that.”
“No, really, a salad’s fine.”
Gabe suddenly realized why Maddy had been so intently studying the menu. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist on paying. After all, this is a business lunch.”
“But—”
He waved his hand. “No, I’ve got this. So please, how about making it a something substantial like a burger and chips to make sure you have enough energy for the afternoon ahead?”
She shrugged, but smiled acceptance at Amber.
“Cool,” said Amber, shooting an approving glance at Gabe.
Maddy watched her walk away before turning her blue-eyed gaze upon Gabe. “I’ve never met anyone like your sister before.”
“Nor me. She’s one of a kind.”
She glanced at her with a look almost of longing. “I’ve always dreamed of having a sister like Amber.”
It wasn’t the first time that a woman he’d dated had said something similar, not only because they liked Amber, but because they were hinting at a future, the first sight of which made Gabe want to run.
But, with Maddy, there was no double meaning and no sense of flirtation. He was used to women who flirted without meaning what they said. And he was most definitely used to flirting back. But now it seemed this Goddess, who was made for flirting, had no interest in talking about anything superficial. He could do that. Possibly.
“Are you an only child, or do you have annoying brothers like Amber has?”
A dip in that lovely forehead and a downward glance was her first reaction. It was brief, but long enough for him to recognize the pain that lurked behind that immaculate façade. But it was gone when she looked up again. She knew how to hide her feelings.
“Only child,” she said in that low, sexily accented voice of hers.
He grunted his thanks to Amber for the coffee she slid across the table and took a sip as he waited for her to continue. “No doubt spoiled by your parents,” he prompted. But even as he said the words, he somehow doubted it.
She gave a slight smile, but this time didn’t take her eyes from his. “No. They died in a train accident in Europe; my uncle raised me.”
“Spoiled by your uncle, then, I hope.”
“Totally.” She grinned, and he relaxed with relief. He couldn’t bear the thought that someone hadn’t spoiled this woman. If she’d answered in the negative he might have had to take on the task himself.
“Excellent. Everyone should have someone in their life who spoils them.”
“He’s not in my life anymore.”
Gabe’s heart sank. He added a spoonful of sugar to his coffee. He knew he shouldn’t, but he needed it now, as he felt that old familiar feeling of needing to care for someone wash over him. “I’m sorry.”
But to his surprise, Maddy smiled. “It’s okay. We had a brilliant life together. He was an archaeologist and took me around the world to different archaeological digs. It was how I got into GIS.”
“GIS?”
Her smile widened. “Geographic information systems. You’ve probably heard of it.”
Gabe grinned. “Heard of it, yes; understand it?” He shook his head. “No.”
“It’s about the processing of geographic data which results from archaeology. We collect the data, store it, and retrieve it to create new information. That’s the wiki version anyway.”
“Well, thank you for giving me the wiki version. My scientific knowledge is confined to the human body; mathematics and statistics aren’t my thing.”
“I reckon it’s the most important part of archaeology,” she said with a disarming shrug of the shoulders. It seemed talking about her work relaxed her.
“Of course. I didn’t doubt it. Although I’m sure the digging kind of archaeologists would dispute it.”
“Oh, they do. But they don’t win. You see, I have the facts and figures, and you can’t argue with them.”
“I have to side with the digging archaeologists there. I reckon there’s more to an argument than 1s and 0s, bit and bytes, positive, negative.”
“Ah, now, I don’t want to argue with someone who’s just bought me lunch.”
“Good plan. I might refuse to pay.”
“In which case I’d have to run away, again.”
It was his turn to frown. He pushed the food around on his plate for a moment, and when he looked up, her expression had changed. She looked nervous again as if she’d said too much. He set down his knife and fork and folded his arms on the table, his eyes level with hers, challenging her to be open. Instead, she took a bite of her burger. He let the silence continue until she’d swallowed, but she still didn’t elaborate. It was up to him to find out.
“Why are you here?”
She shrugged. “It’s a beautiful place. Why not?”
“Because something tells me you seldom do things on a whim.”
“Do you know people so well, after such a short time?”
“I have good instincts. They tell me the basics.”
She hesitated as if fighting with herself and then sighed. “And what are your instincts telling you?”
“I don’t need instincts to tell me that you have a reason to be here. You’re right. Akaroa is a beautiful place, but people don’t come here straight here off the plane. They stay in the cities, check out the main attractions, a few boiling mud pools in the North Island, some glaciers in the South Island. But you? You came straight to Akaroa, and intend to stay for a few months. And I’m wondering who told you about it.”
She bit her lip and glanced away, as if in confusion. She took a deep breath and met his gaze once more with a lifted chin and courage she’d summoned up from somewhere deep. The thought that his presence unnerved her was a strange one. But now her face was blank and guarded. He wondered what he’d have to do to make her drop her guard. He wouldn’t usually have pressed her for information, but he couldn’t help himself; he wanted to know.
“Sorry, I don’t mean to pry, but I’m curious about what it is you’re looking for,” he continued. “Something, or maybe someone?” he added as an afterthought. He wondered which would win out: the courage or the confusion.
Her gaze shifted, and she licked her lips. “You underestimate the charms of this place. I heard about it overseas and decided I had to come here and see for myself.”
The courage, it seemed. “I don’t underestimate anything, Miss Madeleine MacGillivray. In fact, I’m known for it.” His tone was purposely light, regaining the flirtation of their previous conversation. There was no sense pushing her to an uncomfortable place. That was a sure-fire way to turn her away from him. And, if there was one thing which he knew from their brief time together, it was that he didn’t want her to turn from him.
She picked up his change in direction and went with it. “Is that right?”
“Yes, it is,” he said. “Now, I think we’ve had enough of talking about you. You eat, and I’ll talk, and I can tell you all about myself. Of course, you can tell me something of yourself if you have to.”
She laughed, and the whole of the café turned to look for its source. Double damn. The sound was like a golden thread that tightened around his heart, making him gasp a little.
“No, you’re fine,” she said. “I’d prefer to talk about you.”
“Excellent. Because, as it so happens,
it’s my favorite subject.” He lied. But sometimes it was necessary.
* * *
Maddy ended up eating not only a veggie burger and chips in addition to the salad she’d ordered, but also a bowl of fruit salad and ice-cream. And Gabe’s rationale for the big lunch had been scrapped as the lunch turned from one hour into two. It seemed his accounts could wait another day.
Maddy couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten or talked so much. Because, despite his protestations, Gabe had talked very little about himself. Instead, after putting her at her ease, he’d turned the conversation around back on her. And she hadn’t even noticed until now, until their long lunch was over and Amber had begun to make shooing noises to get them to leave the otherwise empty café. Because it wasn’t until now that she looked into his eyes and knew that, despite all her best intentions, she’d revealed herself, and he’d liked what she’d revealed. She’d thought he was easy and straightforward. But, it seemed, contrary to first impressions Dr. Gabriel Connelly was neither of those things.
She’d have to be careful if she was to keep on track. She was fulfilling a promise to someone, that was all. Fulfil the promise and then leave. That was how it had to be.
3
After an evening listening to overseas students talk, sing, and strum guitars on the veranda, Maddy’s evening had ended abruptly as jet-lag had hit her. She’d fallen into a dreamless sleep from which she didn’t awake until dawn. For a moment she’d wondered where she was, and she jerked her head toward the light which edged the ill-fitting curtains, instantly alert. Then she remembered and relaxed against the pillow once more. She was where she was meant to be. And she didn’t know what was in store for her, but at least the guilt and stress over postponing her visit was no longer with her. For good or bad, she was here, and she had to get on with it. With her body clock insisting it was evening, she rose, dressed and tiptoed out the sleeping house and onto the empty beach.
As dawn broke over the harbor, Madeline sat on the damp sand and reflected on the past twenty-four hours. Apart from sleeping, it was the first time she’d been alone—something which she hadn’t anticipated. She’d thought she’d arrive, do what she had to do, and leave again six months later, barely having caused a ripple in this small town. But she hadn’t counted on people being so friendly and welcoming. It was as if they’d opened up their lives, shuffled along a bit to make room for her, and then closed the curtains again. After twenty-four hours she was part of their world whether she wanted to be or not. And she didn’t know how she felt about it.
She turned her gaze to the distant promontory covered in trees, above which she could see the chimneys and roof of a large house. Belendroit. It was Gabe’s and Amber’s family home. The Connelly homestead. She’d heard so much about it that it had attained something of a mythical status in her mind. She would go, just as she’d promised, but not yet. Maybe toward the end of her six-month stay, but not before. It would be too hard.
As she heard the sounds of life beginning in the hostel behind her, she rose and looked around once more. A hazy mist lay over the harbor, the hills on the far side rising colorless and ethereal. It was soft and seductive, but she couldn’t let it seduce her. She mustn’t.
“Hey! Maddy!” She turned to see Flo holding up two cups of coffee.
She grinned and ran up the sand to Flo and took a cup. “Thanks, that’s so kind of you.”
“Not kind at all,” said Flo, taking a sip and narrowing her eyes against the glare of the first rays of sunshine, bright through the mist. “It’s a lure to get you working. Follow me.” Maddy followed Flo into the house and stopped at a door set under the stairs. “This is the cubby hole I like to call my office.”
Maddy was relieved to see it was bigger than she’d first imagined. A room which Harry Potter would have been quite jealous of in fact, with its small window to the rear which looked out onto the back garden.
Flo opened a filing cabinet and tapped the tops of the folders.
“Here are all the receipts for expenditure.” She slammed closed the old metal cabinet which must have been at least fifty years old and opened the second drawer. “And here’s the paper trail for the income.”
Maddy sipped her coffee and looked over Flo’s shoulder, noting the clearly-labeled tabs on each of the files. “Cool. Looks like you’ve everything under control.” She looked around. “So where’s the computer?”
“Ah,” said Flo with a grimace. “Ah,” she repeated and sucked her lips. “Now that’s where my system stops.”
“Don’t tell me you don’t have a computer?”
“Oh no, I won’t tell you that, because it wouldn’t be true.” Flo opened another smaller cabinet and pulled out an ancient laptop which looked like it weighed a ton. “Here’s my answer to the modern tech world. Ta-da!” She offered it like a buried treasure, which it was.
“Good heavens!” Maddy took the laptop and opened it up gingerly. “I haven’t seen anything like this since, since… well, to be honest, I saw one in a ‘history of computers’ exhibition in Amsterdam recently.”
“You go to exhibitions called ‘history of computers?’” Flo appeared to be more surprised by Maddy attending the exhibition than by the fact her computer had featured in one.
“Yeah, I love history of any kind.”
Flo shook her head but stopped short of accusing Maddy of being weird. Maddy wouldn’t have minded. It wouldn’t have been the first time.
Maddy opened the laptop, and while it was charging took another sip of her coffee. “You can leave me to it if you have other things you need to do. I’ll be fine.”
A relieved-looking Flo took her at her word and closed the door, eager to leave the sight of accounts behind her. Maddy ran her fingers along the keyboard, enjoying the feel of the familiar after such a long time.
It wasn’t long before she’d forgotten where she was, and why she was here, and was absorbed in numbers, entering the figures from the paper copies, and creating a set of accounts on the spreadsheet.
By the end of the morning, she’d created a profit and loss spreadsheet which showed precisely how well the hostel was doing since Flo had taken over, or how badly, Maddy reflected, her gaze lingering on the minus figure in red at the bottom of the spreadsheet.
“These are great!” said Flo, her smile faltering as she looked at the bottom line.
“There’s more to come. That’s just the beginning.”
“My accountant’s going to love these. There’s nothing for him to do, so his fees will come down. Thanks so much.”
“After a week or so, there won’t be so much for me to do.”
“But you will stay, won’t you? If the paperwork doesn’t take too much time, how do you feel about continuing to help me out with some of the housework? I’ll pay you for it. It’ll save me finding someone else. That will leave me to get on with the garden. You can have the room for as long as you like. Deal?”
“Deal!” They shook hands and celebrated their partnership by sharing a slab of chocolate with a cup of tea.
“So you’re off to Gabe’s this afternoon?”
“Yes, he’s going to show me around his accounting system.”
Flo laughed. “System? Did he call it a system? If you think mine was bad, you should see his.”
“That’s okay. It makes it more of a challenge.”
Flo looked astutely at Maddy. “Somehow I reckon a challenge to you would be insurmountable to the rest of us.”
Maddy frowned. She hated it when people recognized how smart she was. It made her feel even more of a misfit than she usually did. “You’d be surprised. I sometimes think the things that other people take in their stride are daunting to me. And things I find easy, for some reason other people put up barriers against.”
Flo turned her gaze across the harbor, dropping her sunglasses back onto her nose. “Those damned barriers.”
Maddy glanced at Flo but couldn’t tell what she was thinking, and Flo had gone q
uiet. It seemed even the practical Flo had her issues. But somehow Maddy didn’t think Flo would be confiding in her anytime soon. Flo struck her as someone who kept things close to her chest. That made two of them.
Maddy drained her tea and picked up the mugs. “I’d best be off now. I don’t want to be late for my new boss.”
“So many bosses, so little time,” sighed Flo, also standing. “Not that I have a boss. Just the bank manager. But we all have those.”
“I don’t,” said Maddy without thinking. She regretted it the instant Flo turned around, an incredulous look on her face.
“How do you manage without a bank manager?”
“The internet. I haven’t been into a bank in years.”
Flo shrugged. “We’re pretty old-fashioned here. A bank is a person to us; an overdue invoice is a person, and a statistic is a person.”
Maddy grunted. “They’re figures on a spreadsheet in my world.” She’d never really thought about it before, but that’s what the world about her had become. Statistics. Nothing more real than that because otherwise, she might feel something. Seems keeping her promise was putting herself into the firing line of feeling. And that wasn’t something she liked at all.
“Just as well you’ve come to my world for a while then. Might make you look beyond the statistic.”
Maddy snapped around to face Flo, but Flo was continuing to put away some papers as if she hadn’t just dropped a bombshell on Maddy. Flo’s words sounded cutting, hard even, but Maddy was beginning to understand Flo a little. Seemed that Flo spoke her mind and people could take it or leave it, but there was nothing underhand or bitchy about her. Maddy could deal with that.
“But not too much,” Flo added. “I kind of like what you’re doing for us!” She gave a cheery wave, not realizing she’d just given Maddy an almighty wake-up call, and disappeared upstairs to check the rooms. Maddy wondered, not for the first time, if there had been some secret purpose to the request she’d promised to fulfil.