Joel took one hesitantly and refrained from opening it.
As Daisy flicked through hers, sweat broke out on her forehead. “I'm not sure this is quite my thing." She leant back harder against her crochet books. "I’m a book store. Not a citizen’s advice bureau."
Athena stabbed her finger at the cover. "This is a list of books we refer people to for further reading.”
“And if you stocked some of these titles,” Michelle interjected, “they would be bound to sell after the talk.” She mouthed something to Daisy that looked like ticking clock.
“Precisely,” Athena nodded. “Women want information. They need it because information is empowerment. Books empower." She glanced around. “And this is a cute little shop. I had no idea it was here.”
“I opened eighteen months ago and we're in the process of rebranding." Daisy sounded defensive and Joel couldn't blame her. Athena was practically accusing Poppy’s of being a two-bit book store.
He frowned. He'd kind of thought the same.
Daisy scanned the list of books. “Are these-” She glanced up suspiciously. “Are these books graphic? I don’t want anything too explicit."
"Amen," Michelle agreed. "I may have watched all six seasons of Sex and the City on DVD and suffered a certain ‘disease’ one time but it does not mean I want to look at it on another woman.”
“These books are written and presented extremely tastefully," Athena reassured her. "They're of offence to no one. Well, children maybe.” The bell tinkled and everyone turned to look as an elderly woman stepped in and paused for a breather, leaning heavily on her walking sticks.
"Good morning, Mrs. Carstairs," Michelle said.
Athena said thoughtfully, “But something tells me you don’t get too many children in here.”
“Well, I’ll consider it. I mean, one minute I'm sexing up the shop, the next I'm having a discussion on the downside of it."
Michelle chuckled but Daisy looked deadly serious. She looked uncomfortable, stressed, and Joel had the urge to reach out to her, to hold her, and tell her it was going to be okay.
He had a sudden flashback of doing just that.
Athena handed Daisy a business card. "Here’s my mobile and email. If you do consider, I think you’d find it would be a very valuable asset to your store. And you’d be doing a service to your community and to the women in your community."
“She’ll think about it,” Michelle said. “And," she added, her eyes narrowed at Daisy, "she will consider it very, very carefully."
As soon as Athena was out the door, Joel turned to Daisy.
Daisy looked conflicted.
"That," he said, "was an education."
Daisy screwed up her mouth. "It wasn't quite what I had in mind for the store. Although maybe it would help. It's Ticking Clocker material after all."
Ticking clocker? He frowned. What the heck was that?
Speaking of time... He glanced at his watch. He had a meeting with a doctoral student and it had the potential to drag on. He was also aware the department was keeping a close eye on him, now it was known he wanted that Associate Professor position.
He also knew that some people weren't all that keen on him at all, and had considered he'd sold out the profession even though any one with common sense knew it was pure jealousy.
The latest discontented mutterings centered around the history channel going into production with a new six-part series on the Roman invasion of Britain and everyone in the department were spewing over who had been given the role of presenter. A celebrity historian from Australia getting the kudos everyone else felt they deserved.
He just hoped and prayed this job was in the bag before the darned movie hit the big screen.
Even more, hoped last night's appearance hadn't been another nail in that coffin.
He turned to face Daisy who still looked ill.
"Are you all set for the trip?"
"All sorted." She took a deep breath. "Michelle's going to keep an eye on the apartment and my sisters are coming over to help in the shop."
"Sounds like the timing isn't the best."
"I don't know about that. After hashtag Dr Joel, I think a few days away at an exclusive resort might be the perfect remedy."
He couldn't help it. He bent to her, kissed her on the cheek, lingered, breathed in her scent. Felt something inside him just want to stay and never go away.
He pulled back sharply and cleared his throat. "It will be an unforgettable couple of days," he promised, and even as he said it, he wondered how on earth he could promise that.
"Bring it on, Golden Grove," she murmured faintly.
Chapter Seven
On Friday morning they boarded the plane and three hours later were about to land at Golden Grove. The flight had been smooth and the whole experience so wonderful, Daisy thought she might never fly economy ever again.
Not that she ever had, but this better class was amazing.
She had spent most of the trip flicking through magazines and watching the latest Channing Tatum.
Joel appeared to have been sleeping.
The seatbelt sign came on and the pilot announced they were beginning their descent. Daisy glanced out the window. All she could see was cloud but soon they would break through and they’d be on their way to Golden Grove.
Excitement tingled in her stomach and she breathed out a satisfied sigh and hoped she could put what was happening back at her store out of her mind. There wasn't anything she could do from here, anyway.
The attendant was continuing her way down the aisle checking passengers and Daisy checked her belt. She’d taken it off only once, when she’d braved the toilets. She’d seen enough Terror on Flight 121 movies to not take unnecessary chances.
Joel had kept his belt off after take off.
He had also, upon his return from the bathroom some thirty minutes ago, dozed off to sleep. Or given the impression of being asleep. Call her paranoid but she suspected it was an act. He’d muttered, “I’m bushed,” laid his head on the head rest, dropped his seat back and closed his eyes.
His face, though, had turned slightly toward her and she wasn’t sure but underneath his long lashes she was almost certain he was watching her.
You are paranoid, she chided herself, as she stashed her tray away, secured it and waited for the attendant so she could return her magazine.
She glanced back at Joel. He was still – supposedly – sleeping. He apparently didn’t snore, which gave rise to her suspicion he was faking this slumber. Most men snored. Her sisters and both her parents did. Lionel had once told her she did but she’d had sinus problems when he’d made the accusation. Joel clearly came from a family with good nasal passages.
The flight attendant duly arrived and took the magazines. She was beautiful in a Julia Roberts sort of way; her badge said Helena.
She glanced at Joel as she murmured, “The poor, poor man. He must be under so much pressure to fall asleep on a short flight. He looks like he’s just settled down for the night. With a busy schedule like his, I’m not surprised he’s taking this time to regroup.”
Daisy felt her hackles rise. Any minute now and Helena would be stroking his cheek and kissing his brow.
“I saw Mystery Date, you know," she murmured. "I wouldn’t recognize you from the TV. You look quite different. Except for your hair.” She tossed her own perfectly styled bob and looked back at Joel. She gave a heavy sigh and after gazing at Joel for what seemed like forever she murmured, “Dr Benjamin? It’s time to put your seat belt on. We’ll be landing on Golden Grove shortly.”
Joel neither stirred nor answered.
“Dr Benjamin?” She reached out for his shoulder and squeezed it lightly with one elegantly manicured hand. Joel remained looking very much like a dead man. A bit too dead, Daisy suspected, but then she didn’t know. Maybe he could just drop off to sleep when he felt like it. Maybe his life-style and hours and job enabled him to do that. Even necessitated he do it when he had lect
ures to write and books to edit.
“He did say he was incredibly tired." Daisy had avoided looking too closely at him during the flight in case he opened his eyes to find her staring at him, but now that she had an excuse she couldn’t help notice that in sleep he looked positively endearing. His lips were apart a bare fraction and his fringe had pitched over one eye. She resisted the urge to reach up and push it slowly back to where it belonged.
“Perhaps,” Helena said, her eyes not leaving Joel's face, “I should buckle up his seat belt. We’ll be landing shortly.”
Her eyes hovered around Joel’s lap. Daisy detected a spark in the woman’s blue-grey eyes and a suggestive lift to her perfectly waxed eyebrows at the masculine sight before her. The hussy. Joel was her date for crying out loud. What woman blatantly lusted after a man when he was clearly with another woman?
“It’s okay.” She reached swiftly for the buckle as Helena made her move. “I’ll do it.”
“Are you sure?” she said in an I’m the Flight Attendant voice.
“Positive." Daisy detected a whispery sensation on her arm as though Joel had just let out a pent-up breath.
Helena dropped her hands reluctantly and with a lingering look at Joel, tightened her grip on the magazines and moved back down the aisle.
Daisy leant across Joel for the connecting buckle and as she did, his scent wafted around her. She tried to place it. It was strongly male. Virile. Masculine. Intoxicating. The other scent was what? Shampoo? Aftershave? Today he was clean shaven. Big Ben had been clean shaven and he, too, had smelt so gorgeous. Funny how she remembered those details.
She paused a moment, stared. How was it possible they were the same man? True, there were many times she could see the similarities between them, and not just on a physical level.
So maybe she'd misjudged Joel based on her own insecurities. Thank you, Lionel.
She found the errant buckle and jammed the two bits. They clicked into place but it was loose and needed tightening. Still, Joel hadn't moved.
He looked so content and so relaxed, so at peace flying around the skies. Probably one of those people who claimed you were safer in the air than you were on the ground and maybe he was right. Certainly being here with Joel made her feel safe, secure. Even if he was asleep.
“I think it clicked,” he announced suddenly and his eyes shot open and his gaze locked on Daisy. She was still holding the buckle and she dropped it.
He picked it up and tightened the belt so it lay flat across his thighs.
“You’re a superb actor,” she told him. “You had me fooled. And the flight attendant.”
“The lovely Helena.” Joel pulled his seat upright. “Do you know, Miss Miller, that you are completely fascinating to watch? Did you really think I was asleep?”
“I had doubts. At one point you momentarily cringed. I don't think Helena noticed.”
“Lucky for me then.” Joel had lowered his voice to a pitch that sent a shiver up her spine.
“Back in the land of the living, I see.” Helena towered above them and her voice seemed unnecessarily loud. It matched the sharpness in her eyes. She checked the security of the overhead locker.
Daisy looked out the window. They had magically come out of the cloud and were now flying over the water. She could see islands. The excitement and anticipation of the weekend ahead gripped her.
“I hope you had an enjoyable flight, Dr Benjamin,” Helena murmured.
“Oh yes,” Joel replied. “It was a wonderful flight."
Daisy felt him turn to look straight at her as he murmured, "The most fun I’ve had in a long time.”
The first thing Daisy noticed about the resort was that there were an awful lot of tanned, young girls. Or women, depending on your definition. They looked rich, the tans had to be fake, the jewelry ridiculously expensive, and the bikinis designer. She only hoped there weren’t too many man-hungry Helena’s angling to hit it off with her date.
She waited at the reception desk where a charming man checked their reservation, and she felt her age. All nearly thirty years of it. None of the girls looked much over twenty two.
She turned around to find Joel watching a group of them as they strolled through the foyer and she took a deep calming breath. He’s here with you, she told herself. He’s not here with them and let’s not forget the divine Helena scared him half to death.
He turned around. "I thought I recognized one of those girls," he murmured.
"A likely story," she said.
He glanced back as the girls walked through the doors. "I'm sure she was on The Last Centurion." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "But I can't be sure."
Then a group of Polaris-enhanced hunks walked by with glistening tanned hairless chests and Daisy couldn’t take her eyes off them. She was sure she’d seen one of them in a music video.
“Androids,” Joel murmured. She jumped as the trail of breath eased in through her ear, tickling her.
“Jealous are we?” she murmured back.
“Nothing to be jealous of.”
He was right on that score.
More bikini clad women walked by, beach bags slung over their shoulders, sarongs around their narrow hips.
“Did you bring a bikini?” Joel asked casually.
Daisy only just stopped from fainting dead away. “I’m not really a bikini kind of woman.”
“You should give a bikini a go. A woman like you?" He nodded his thanks to the reservations manager as he slid a form across the counter for him to sign. “You’d look good in a bikini. Shame to cover– ” He stopped abruptly as he scribbled his name.
She glanced up at him suspiciously. “Shame to cover what?”
He handed her the pen and looked straight into her eyes. “All your womanly shape, Daisy.”
“Madam would look magnificent,” the hotel manager suddenly said.
Daisy and Joel both turned to him.
“Permit me, Madam,” he said. Daisy glanced at his identification badge. Rich Wallace. Reservations Manager. She guessed him to be in his mid-thirties. He was blonde and tanned, the ubiquitous Golden Grove requisite for staff, apparently.
“Well thank you,” Daisy said a little disbelievingly.
Rich went on, “A strong Junoesque woman like you is to be admired.” He turned away for a moment.
“Sleaze,” Joel muttered in her ear. “What a sleazy pervert.”
“He complimented me.”
“I complimented you.”
“He called me Junoesque.”
“He should be reported. Is that even ethical?”
“I may be a 21st century woman,” Daisy said, “but I know a compliment when I hear one and I take it like any female. Gratefully.”
Joel narrowed his gaze in Rich Wallace's direction.
“You're jealous, aren’t you,” Daisy said.
“Jealousy,” Joel murmured, so close to her ear she could feel his breath, and so close no one else could hear, “is something I have never been accused of in my life.”
The duty manager personally showed them to their suites, located next door to one another but without adjoining doors.
A good job, too. Daisy had dreamt about Myrtle last night and although there was no father in the dream, the fact was she needed to focus on her shop. Myrtle was a commitment she didn't need. Not right now. Not for another couple of years at least.
At the door, Joel paused.
"You know, we don't have to do everything together. No one expects it. There are some contractual obligations with the resort management as part of the sponsorship deal but other than that, we're free agents."
She eyed him warily, ignored the sudden deflating of her heart. Was he giving her an 'out' in a nice way or saying that he actually wanted to be on his own? Maybe he was taking the time to mark a doctoral thesis?
Maybe he had arranged to meet someone else...
"Daisy." He shook his head, a slow smile on his mouth. "I can almost see where those thoughts are hea
ded. I'm just saying that if you don't want to hang out with me, I won't be offended."
She let out a breath. "I don't have anyone else to hang out with," she said. "And I can't see the value of going around introducing myself and saying 'Hi, I'm Daisy of Dreams by Poppy, come and check out my store if you're ever all the way down in New Zealand."
He grinned. He checked his watch. "We need to meet the manager but what say we meet for lunch in an hour? I'll come by."
She was famished. On account of the fact she'd been semi-fasting the past 48 hours to see if her stomach had flattened.
Not that it had achieved anything except hunger although she did think it was a little flatter which she attributed to less bloating rather than fat. How romantic.
She thought of the food Kelly had described back at the TV studio, and her stomach gave a growl.
"Sounds great," she said.
Sixty five minutes later Daisy had showered and changed into a T-shirt, shorts and sandals.
They had lunch at the main restaurant where Daisy had brochures and they planned out their next two days, along with obligations.
After lunch, they were shown up to the top floor offices where pictures of the celebrities who frequented the resort were framed and signed on the walls.
"That's a bit tacky," Joel said as they passed, it seemed, every leading actor and actress of the past decade.
"It totally is," she agreed. "They really need to focus less on celebrity culture and more on the superstars of academia."
"Ha," he muttered as they were shown in to the manager's office.
He rose to greet them, and shook hands warmly with Joel.
"Maurice North, manager of Golden Grove resort. It is a pleasure to meet you, Dr Benjamin. I watched the recorded show last night and was delighted you were the lucky couple to win the trip. My staff are thrilled to have you with us for the next couple of days."
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