“Take the fitness question,” Joel said.
Daisy glanced briefly down at the spare tire around her waist and looked back. “What about it?”
"The other two girls are fitness freaks. I’m into fitness.”
He didn’t say the rest. While you’re more a sit down with a soppy novel and a box of chocolates kind of girl.
He looked at Daisy with a degree of caution and loosened his tie. She watched his discomfort but there was no pleasure in it because the same thought was gnawing at her. Flora and Amber had been tanned, blonde and gorgeous. They exercised; she went to the fridge in the ad breaks.
“Actually,” Rob put in. “I think Joel might be on to something.”
“Well thanks a lot,” Daisy burst out. “So now it's a good thing he picks Daisy who runs a bookstore frequented by geriatrics instead of picking a girl who can run around the block without gasping."
“It came out wrong. I didn’t mean that.” Joel raked his hands frustratedly through his hair.
“Who cares if you meant it or not?" Bill Rollins pounced, “because I'm thinking that you may just have a point. What you’re saying is that we expect the Mystery Date man to go with the glamour because he matches the image of the type of woman who could walk down a catwalk and do the business. But somehow, Daisy here got in– "
“Just great,” Daisy said through gritted teeth.
“Hang on.” Bill stabbed the air with his pen. “What I’m saying, Daisy, is that you won. You won the date. You. A woman looking to recover from a financial disaster, facing financial ruin with a string of bad relationships behind her."
Daisy balked.
"A real woman, Daisy. Today’s woman. You are a woman Mystery Date viewers can identify with. Good grief, people, we are looking at Daisy Miller and she is the Mystery Date woman. She is the Mystery Date viewer. And Joel picked her.”
Bill pushed himself away from the table and began to stalk the room, saliva spitting from his mouth as he waved his arms manically. “If every woman watching that show considers the fact Joel chose Daisy instead of bleached Barbie, isn’t that going to make them think, we like this guy. We like Joel. He’s got great taste. We like Daisy. She’s me. A real woman. We’re rooting for them.”
“The only problem with all this,” Daisy interjected, “is that Joel had no idea what I looked like – whether I was blonde or brunette – because we were hidden behind that pink thing.”
“You can tell a lot from a voice. You can tell a lot from answers. Your answers were funny, they were bright. And let us not forget the point, people. Joel did choose Daisy.”
“Exactly,” Rob said, smacking his hand on the table.
“Praise the Lord, I do believe it's sorted,” Kelly sighed with relief.
“So does this mean,” Daisy ventured, “that you are prepared to overlook the disclaimer and let me – I mean us – take the trip?”
“Disclaimer? What disclaimer?” Bill Rollins came over and shook hands with her and Joel, and it was done. All over. All because Daisy was average. All because Joel had chosen someone who represented the public at large.
Kelly suddenly stood up. "Right. Now we've got that sorted, we need to make a start with the publicist before you go away."
Daisy blinked. "Make a start with the what?"
"The publicist." Kelly was already texting. "It's too late now but can we schedule a six thirty am breakfast meeting?"
Six thirty am?
Even Joel appeared to be at a loss. "For what exactly?"
Kelly rolled her eyes. "You read your contract. Didn't you?"
Joel gave what sounded suspiciously like a snort. "Those reams of paper with print the size of zero point?"
"Obligations, Dr Benjamin. And they start with our publicists who will get the story out so people are reading it on-line over their morning cappuccino."
Joel growled at Rob. "Are you telling me that Daisy and I humiliate ourselves on TV and then have to discuss it?"
Rob looked at him as if he was a sandwich short of a picnic. "Of course. We need to milk this baby as much as we can, and you and Daisy have the potential to be a network dream."
"If they put me up on a billboard, I demand airbrushing," Daisy joked.
Rob appraised her and Daisy winced. "I was kidding about the billboard. Oh gosh, they wouldn't. Would they?"
"It depends," Joel said. "That might be reserved for academics who had the misfortune to think advising on The Last friggin' Centurion was a smart move."
Kelly thrust taxi chits at them. "Get home. Get some sleep. Avoid the internet, and you'll meet our publicist, Nicole, tomorrow morning, six thirty at DJs up on Mt Eden Road."
"Why do we need to avoid the internet?" Daisy asked warily.
"Trust me. With a pilot episode like this, you don't want to go on line until the next day so you can deal with the haters." Kelly smiled, her gaze lingering a fraction more than appropriately at Joel's mouth. "And don't worry about the pictures to accompany the story. We got plenty of the pair of you back on the set."
Outside the studio Joel and Daisy waited in silence for their taxis.
Shocked silence, Daisy thought.
"I take the blame for that drama," Joel said finally. It was chilly and he wore a black coat. His face was rubbed bare of make up now. He looked amazing.
He said, "Do you agree we don't say a damned thing about that blind date? Considering the heart attacks they nearly had over me going to your shop, I suggest mentioning the date is not the wisest move."
"A bit hard to comment on something you have no memory about," she said.
His eyebrows arched. "That's harsh."
"No, it's not."
"For the record, that was the last time I ever went on a bind date."
"First and last time for me," she agreed. "I was scarred for life over that one."
"Yet it seemed to turn out okay," he said.
She glanced sideways at him. Did he remember putting his arms around her, holding her as they watched the sun rise over the waters of the Waitemata harbor that morning? Of course he didn't. Dehydration and a headache had been setting in.
"Yep," she agreed finally. "It wasn't too bad at all."
She checked her phone and saw there were several messages.
Next to her, Joel said, "One of the cars is here. You take the first one."
She nodded vaguely as she scrolled down. From her mother, from Bridget, from Kathryn. From Michelle, from her brothers-in-law.
"Oh, heck," she muttered as she saw even her Aunt Daphne had texted.
"Problem? Joel asked.
She swallowed. "It's my family. They all saw the show. They have all texted me." She saw three messages from her mother. "Some have done it several times."
"Then I suggest we both take Kelly's advice and don't even check emails. It could be worse."
The taxi pulled up and Joel opened the door for her.
"You take this. I'll grab the next car."
She climbed in and as she pulled the seatbelt around, Joel bent down to her.
She held her breath in case he kissed her. Even a kiss on her cheek. She'd take it, she decided. He had pushed for her to get the holiday when it was obvious he was regretting this whole debacle. She had to admit. There were times her attitude towards him was extremely schizophrenic.
Instead he said, "Sleep well, Daisy and I'll see you tomorrow morning."
And the door shut.
Daisy did sleep well and put it down to her mind shutting off so it didn't have to think about what she was getting herself in to. Or just sheer joy at all the free publicity Dreams by Poppy was getting. She'd been to the network's website and under News, their initial polling of one thousand homes in the upper North Island, with a polling error rate of 2%, had extolled Mystery Date as a ratings winner, the highest rating show in its 7.30pm time slot across the networks.
The only downside was that she and Michelle were still in the process of transforming Dreams by Poppy but the ne
w website was up and running, and she'd said the name enough times that surely if people had watched the show – no doubt with laptops balanced on their knees – they'd gone to at least have a look.
She crossed her fingers. She'd ask Michelle later if there'd been an upswing in hits to the site.
Daisy dressed in a casual black skirt and t-shirt, threw on her favorite denim jacket, and arrived on time at DJ's.
The publicist had commandeered the window table and Joel was already there looking, Daisy noted, as uncomfortable as she felt.
His eyes widened when he saw her. With attraction, she wondered, but she suspected it was more latching on to a familiar face.
The publicist, Nicole, had them sit side by side, set her phone on the table to record, then took out a comprehensive folder.
She eyed them both a moment. "I heard the news from Kelly." Her gaze lingered a long moment on Joel.
"The news?" Joel repeated.
Joel's elbow touched hers as he shifted uncomfortably. Daisy felt a charge zip up her arm to her brain and wondered if he'd felt it.
"You're trending on Twitter." Nicole raised her fingers in quotation marks. "Hashtag DrJoel. It's gone wild."
"You're kidding me," Joel muttered in disbelief.
He picked up his phone, seemed to think better of it, and closed his eyes tight a moment. He looked alternately meditative and about to throw up.
"Is there a hashtag for me?" Daisy asked.
Nicole pursed her lips. "No. But hashtag GoldenGrove is gaining traction with celebs chiming in to praise the place." She let out a long breath. "Sheesh, you've got no idea how jealous I am of you, Daisy." She flushed and fiddled with her phone and avoided looking at Joel. "I mean, jealous of you both."
Daisy ignored Nicole's admission. "So going back to this hashtag thing. Was there any hashtag Dreams by Poppy?"
Nicole glanced at her with sympathy. "I'm sorry, Daisy, but with celebrity Mystery Date, we suspected this would happen. The focus goes on the celebrity. On Joel. And he was our big celebrity because of his work with The Last Centurion."
"For goodness sake," he muttered beneath his breath.
Nicole set her phone back between them. "We're wasting time. Now, this story will be along the lines of the morning-after-the-show, how are prime time's newest couple doing 48 hours before they jet away to a tropical island paradise?"
"Don't you mean primetime's newest hashtag Dr Joel going to hashtag Golden Grove?" Daisy muttered.
Nicole laughed. "You are funny, Daisy. I wondered why the talent coordinator had selected you for the pilot to go with Amber and Flora when they are just so gorgeous and stunning and - I mean..." She cleared her throat and Daisy felt Joel turn to look at her.
I am so cool with that insult, she lied to herself.
Nicole said, "Let's proceed." She cleared her throat for the device and pressed record. "Joel, tell me, what were your thoughts when your first saw Daisy, that very moment the pink heart was pulled back and there she was? Your mystery date revealed."
"First thoughts?" He glanced sideways at her, a smile on his mouth. "How honest do you want me to be?"
She elbowed him, he did a fake ouch and she felt her body relax a fraction.
It was going to be okay.
Hashtag okay.
Ten minutes later it was done.
Nicole had rushed off to write up the story, and Joel had been waylaid signing autographs for a couple of people stopping in for a coffee as they headed to work. They were mostly asking about The Last Centurion and what Russell Crowe was really like to work with.
Daisy just got curious looks but felt some sympathy for Joel as he explained that this was, sadly, not a Russell Crowe movie.
She slipped on her sunglasses and as they stood outside, Joel said, "I'll drop you off in my taxi."
"You sure you can bear it?" she quipped.
He let out a long sigh, then turned to face her.
"What's going on?"
She pressed her lips together and didn't know how to respond.
He said, "I have been getting really weird signals from you. You want to take this holiday but I'm getting the feeling you'd rather I wasn't actually on it with you. There are times we almost seem to get along but then you go all cold on me and I have no idea what the heck I've done to, frankly, piss you off."
Had she been that transparent? Well, duh, clearly she had and she couldn't deny it. "You're kind of right," she admitted.
"Ha! I know I'm right. What's going on? I thought we were okay, you and me."
"The truth is this." She was going to sound like a complete twit. She drew a deep breath. "The thing is – and I will be the first to admit that I can be a little sensitive at times. Maybe even over-sensitive." She added, "Just a little."
He looked as if he didn't have time for any kind of sensitivity but he said, "Go on."
"I saw your face that day you came to my shop to get Kate's books."
He shook his head. "You've lost me."
"I watched you. You hated everything about it, all that gorgeous pink and mauve and teal. You shuddered with repulsion. You're too..." She searched for the right word.
"Masculine?" he suggested.
"No. Not masculine."
His eyebrows shot up and she said, "I didn't mean it like that. Of course you're masculine." Very masculine, she felt like saying. She said instead, "It's just that I can see how different you are from the night of the blind date."
He frowned. "I was ten years younger. I was a kid. I should hope I'm different. I was a different shape, after all."
It wasn't just his physical appearance and it wasn't to do with being an adult versus a young man. It was him. Joel had been different but she couldn't put her finger on exactly what it was.
He was watching her thoughtfully. "You know, I am the same guy I was then, Daisy. A bit of life and a few more relationships are under the belt, I'm more mature and the pubescent angst is a distant memory, but I'm not a heck of a lot different."
"Maybe," she murmured unconvinced. It was his attitude, she decided. He was more condescending. Maybe that was what happened when you were in the academic world too long. She had a friend who was an air steward and who maintained pilots were like that. They were completely arrogant and up themselves. Joel was like an academic pilot. Sort of. Except he wasn't up himself, he was just...
A police siren sounded down the road, shaking her out of it. Time was moving along and she was desperate to get back to the store to welcome the crowds of potential customers checking out Dreams. As well as pack her bag. In a few days they'd be heading off to Golden Grove and it didn't leave a lot of time.
"I'll get the taxi and drop you off." He took out his phone to call the cab company. "As long as you promise not to go around the resort speaking in hashtags. You seem a little edgy."
"It's the business. The shop." She chewed on a finger nail then realized she never chewed her finger nails. What an odd habit to take up when you were nearly thirty years old? "I want to see if I've attracted more business."
She glanced at her watch and said, "Can we hurry," and added, "Please."
As the taxi pulled up to Poppy's – rather Dreams by Poppy – Joel wasn't sure what Daisy expected but it clearly wasn't Michelle standing outside the shop with her arms folded across her chest.
He saw the disappointment in Daisy's slumped shoulders as Michelle lifted her arms as if to say 'where are all the customers?'
"Early days yet," Daisy said to no one in particular.
As they climbed out, Joel did a double take at the signage. "Has this been painted?"
"Yep. New colors." Daisy sighed. There was a tinge of regret in her voice.
"Inside is even better," Michelle said. "My brother Adam did it. And Daisy?" Michelle grinned with glee. "I have got the most fantastic news. I'll tell you inside."
Daisy took one last look at the empty sidewalk and as they stepped into the shop, Joel glanced around. "This is different."
&
nbsp; It made him feel less antsy, less 'want to head to the hills,' he realized. It was sleeker. It was more modern and less quaint. He observed Daisy as she looked approvingly around but it was there, a touch of regret. She'd loved the quaint store, that old fashioned quality to it.
Something pinged his chest. Sympathy, he realized. She'd had a dream and it had not turned out the way she'd hoped it would, the way she'd wanted it to.
"Looking really good," he said. "It appeals more to my masculinity."
She managed a half-hearted grin and said, "Approval noted."
There was far less of the pink and purple. He thought of the pile of books he'd given Kate and how bright they had looked as she'd flicked through them.
He said, "Was it hard culling your stock?"
"It was very hard." She straightened her shoulders. "But it had to be done if the shop is to survive."
"Daisy?" Michelle suddenly said. "There's somebody I'd like you to meet." She gestured to a tall woman who appeared from behind a shelf, a discerning look on her face. "Daisy, this is Athena Temm."
Athena was tall and thin and wore glasses with heavy black pointy frames. She held her hand out to Daisy. “Michelle has told me about you."
“Hello. Athena.” Daisy raised her eyebrows at Michelle as she and Athena shook hands.
Michelle said, “Athena, I hadn’t mentioned to Daisy you were coming. She's been caught up with her appearance on Mystery Date, and I thought it would be a surprise.”
A surprise. Joel watched Daisy. He had the feeling Daisy wasn't all that keen on surprises.
"Athena runs a women's clinic for sexually transmitted diseases,” Michelle said with far too much enthusiasm. “I thought it might be wise for her to do a workshop here, now that we're hoping to attract a different clientele."
Daisy leant back into the shelf of what was left of knitting - or something - books. "What?” she squeaked.
Athena said, "Michelle told me you were considering branching out into more–" She looked beyond Daisy to the knitting books. "More relevant material for the urban woman. It is estimated that one in four women has experienced a sexually transmitted disease, candida albicans is approaching epidemic proportions, and women are crying out to be educated." She reached in to her huge bag and pulled out leaflets. She thrust them at everyone. “This is the kind of material we wish to promote."
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