Reinventing Lindsey

by Maggie Brown

  With a sigh, she pushed back the chair and got her meal.

  The room was quiet for a few minutes while they ate. Lindsey lifted her head from her bowl of yogurt and fruit to watch Daisy enthusiastically work her way through the large plate of ham and eggs. She’d never seen anyone enjoy food more. She seemed to be one of the lucky ones with a fast metabolism, for although she had generous curves, she was carrying very little extra weight. Bernice was beaming at her, as she did with anyone who appreciated her cooking. There was no doubt that Daisy had a natural aptitude when it came to people. She already had Bernice wrapped around her little finger. And she did it so effortlessly. Lindsey felt a pang of envy. She’d been compartmentalizing her emotions all her life. She knew how to put fear and longing in a box and hide it away.

  “I understand you’re doing a lot of work on prosthetic limbs,” said Allison.

  “I am,” replied Lindsey, pleased to be now on familiar ground. “My company’s been working on the project for quite a few years now, mainly on artificial arms. We’ve come a long way in the field of neural interfacing. To put it in layman’s terms, that’s how the microelectrodes send signals to control the synthetic limb.”

  “Sounds like cutting-edge technology.”

  “Indeed, it is,” said Lindsey. “Each prosthetic is a complex unit with its own artificial bones, tendons, and muscles.”

  “How do you replicate nerves?”

  “There’s no nervous system per se. Joints operate with fluid containing metal particles. A miniature computer in the brain sends magnetic impulses to move the elbow and fingers.”

  “Really? I had no idea. Not that I ever knew much about the subject…it is way out of my league. How far have you come with the cosmetic side of it all?”

  “A long way. Our latest arms are made from advanced plastics, with a soft carbon-fibre overlay. They’re coated with pigments to match skin tone, and we’re quite adept now at adding details such as freckles, hair, fingernails, and fingerprints. The computer also keeps the limb the same temperature as the rest of the body.”

  “Wow! Are they available yet?”

  Lindsey shoved her coffee cup aside and chewed her lip. The cost was the most frustrating part of her work. “Unfortunately, these limbs are extremely expensive to make. The average amputee wouldn’t be able to afford the high-tech ones. We’re working on it though. Like all technology, the prices will come down as we refine the product.”

  “So how do you keep your research funded?” asked Daisy, looking up from her plate.

  “Those are our experimental lines. Our research laboratory is only one facet of our enterprise. We make cheaper three-D-print prosthetics and we also have a large range of digital software for the robotic industry.”

  “What’s three-D printing?”

  “It’s the process of creating three-dimensional objects from digital files. Layers upon layers of material are laid down by a machine in horizontal sections until the desired object is finished. It’s a simple technique: melted plastic filament is squeezed through a nozzle to create the virtual design.”

  Allison stared at her in disbelief. “And you make functional fingers and elbows like that?”

  “Yes. It’s the future,” Lindsey said then added, “we do what we can to help the less fortunate. We have a fund set up for children who have had limbs blown off by landmines.”

  “I imagine there’re plenty of those poor little ones. I—” Allison broke off when her phoned beeped a text. “Sorry…work calling. I’d better run. I’ll drive Daisy over to the cottage and head back to the office. Maybe we can get together again and you can tell me more about your work. I find it fascinating. Thank you both so much for your hospitality.”

  Daisy rose to her feet with her. “See you in half an hour. Thanks for the great breakfast, Bernice.”

  After Lindsey showed them out, she watched them walk to the car. Before building her second robot, she had studied the female body in depth. Essentially, there were four basic shapes: hourglass, ruler, spoon, and cone. Allison was a ruler, tall and slender, while Daisy had an hourglass figure. Both women were very fetching, in perfect proportion to their build. Lindsey slid her hand down over her hip self-consciously. She was a cone, with a strong wide upper body, slim hips and long legs—to her mind, the least attractive of the body types.

  As if on a magnet, her gaze automatically lingered on Daisy’s behind as she bent over to open the car door. Lindsey moistened her bottom lip with her tongue and idly began to stroke down the length of her neck with her fingertips as she swept her eyes over her. Then embarrassed, she swung around sharply. What was wrong with her? She’d never been one to stare. But as she reached the door, she couldn’t resist a sideways glance over her shoulder.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Okay. What do you think of her?” asked Daisy when they pulled to a stop outside the cottage.

  “She’s nice. Serious, a little reticent, but very engaging. Not what I was expecting.”

  “Huh! She likes you. That was obvious.”

  “Give her a bit of slack. She’s not used to someone like you.”

  Daisy narrowed her eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with how I interact with my clients. Lindsey can be a bit scratchy when I ask her to do something.”

  “I imagine she could get brusque at times, but that’s understandable. She’s extremely bright and used to being the boss.” Allison winked. “You didn’t tell me she was so foxy. And that cultured voice. Whew!”

  “You think she’s hot?”

  “She is, and you know it,” said Allison with a grin.

  “Handsome is as handsome does,” said Daisy primly. “She can be flat-out stubborn if she doesn’t want to do something. I have to be careful how I handle her.”

  “Oooooh. Handle her?”

  “You’re incorrigible,” said Daisy with a hoot of laughter. “Come on in and have a look at this place. It’s awesome.”

  She pushed open the gate and led the way up the path. Surrounded by a white picket fence, the quaint cottage was set in a colourful garden, with an archway of honeysuckle over the front entrance.

  “Delightful,” murmured Allison.

  “Wait ’til you see inside. It’s even got a fireplace and a spa.”

  “Well you fell on your feet, didn’t you? This cottage-in-the-countryside-living is going to spoil you.”

  “Yep,” said Daisy smugly. “I’ll think of you when I’m relaxing in the spa at night with a glass of wine.”

  * * *

  Gunmetal grey clouds floated across the sky as Daisy hurried down the lane to the main building. She wished she had been born in another era when courtship was much simpler, when everyone understood that dating was the precursor to marriage. It was so much more complicated now, especially with Tinder. The app had transformed the dating landscape into a game that fitted in your pocket and mimicked flirting at a bar. People were enticed into bed by a few text exchanges. You ordered a lover like you ordered pizza: swipe right and you were in. There was no dating—no relationship—no real human connection. You were no longer a person but a profile in a new singles’ game where sex could be arranged instantly like online shopping. There was no need to know how to communicate.

  One of their clients had spent two years searching for love using the app before coming to Marigold. She said initially she had enjoyed the experience of having such a wide choice of partners, but eventually the novelty wore off. Disenchanted with the shallowness of the process, she likened everyone on Tinder to the last people at a party trying to find someone to go home with.

  Daisy could only shake her head. Love and commitment—there was no app for that.

  As she neared the house, she concentrated on the next session with Lindsey, though not completely able to ignore her quivering stomach. Lindsey was such an unknown. It was anyone’s guess how she’d take the coaching. At the front door, she adjusted her grip on her briefcase and rechecked the time. Right on schedule. Bernice appeared
a few moments after the doorbell chimed and said with a bright, “Come in, Daisy. She’s waiting in her office so go on through.”

  The desk lamp gave a lone glow in the otherwise grey room. Absorbed in something on the computer, Lindsey didn’t look up so Daisy cleared her throat. When there was no answer, she plopped down in one of the leather office chairs, pulled out her phone and logged onto Facebook. She was tittering at an amusing video clip when Lindsey’s voice echoed in her ear, “Shall we begin?”

  “Oh, good, you’re ready,” Daisy said, switching off the phone with a flourish. “Let’s sit over in the comfortable seats where we can chat. And can we turn on the main light?”

  “Why not,” Lindsey mumbled. She quickly rose, strode past Daisy to flick the switch and walked over to a burgundy armchair. “What’s this going to entail exactly?”

  Daisy sank into the love seat opposite. “Firstly, I’m going to outline a few things.”

  “Proceed.”

  “Relax, Lindsey. This is supposed to be fun.”

  “If you say so.”

  Daisy casually crossed her legs. “Firstly, I’d like to ask you a personal question.”

  “Oh?”

  “Before you get upset, I need to know this. It’s important you answer truthfully. How much dating experience have you had? This is solely between you and me. I am not judging you, but I have to know how much help you need.”

  Lindsey shrugged. “I used to when I was much younger. Now I don’t date. Haven’t for years.”

  “Right, then we’ll start at the very beginning. I’ve devised a step-by-step dating guide I give to all my clients. The most important part comes from learning the essentials. Success is in the detail. Chapter one: how to let someone subtly know you’re attracted to them.”

  “Is this really necessary? It’s sounds rather juvenile.”

  “It most certainly is,” Daisy persisted. “You might be socially competent but good manners don’t get you a date. Body language is the fundamental part of meeting someone so you’ll have to know how to show your interest. First off and the most important is eye contact. Be bold. Catch her eye.”

  “But what if she looks the other way?”

  “If she does immediately, then she’s probably not interested. But if she holds your gaze for a moment then it’s a different story. You’re in with a chance.”

  “Lucky me,” came the dry reply.

  Daisy couldn’t help herself—she chuckled. “I know it sounds odd, but humans do have mating rituals just like animals.”

  “You’re a regular David Attenborough.” Lindsey lolled back in her chair and waggled a finger in the air. “Okay, let’s say I’ve established she’s a little keen by the way she peered into my eyes, so what do I do next?”

  Daisy angled her head and said with authority, “You smile at her—only fleetingly though—then turn back to your friends or friend as the case may be.”

  “Why don’t I give her a broad smile…or maybe a wink?”

  “Definitely not!” said Daisy, wincing. “Too wide a smile and you’re desperate. Wink and you are a player.”

  Lindsey sat up straighter in the chair. “Really? Sounds odd to me. I thought you just rocked up to someone and offered to buy them a drink.”

  “God no. That’s a pickup line for a one-night stand. You’re not after sex. Or at least, I don’t think you are from what you’ve told me,” Daisy said with a grin.

  “Then how do I get to know her?” responded Lindsey, ignoring Daisy’s quip.

  “Ah,” said Daisy with a smile. “When she looks at you again…which she will…you start the body language. Sit up straighter, play with your hair, lick your lips, straighten your top, fiddle with your jewellery and slide your fingers down the stem of your glass. While you’re doing all this, flick a quick glance sideways over your shoulder a couple of times in her direction. Lastly…emphasise your best asset. In your case, it’s your lovely long legs. Cross them, angling your body so she can see and later recross them to the other side. If you’re wearing heels, dangle one off your foot.”

  Lindsey stared at her. “Are you serious? I’ve never heard such tripe in all my life. You think acting like a performing seal is going to interest an intelligent woman?”

  “Correct.”

  “No woman with any brains would be taken in.”

  “Wanna bet?”

  “Yes, actually I do.”

  “Okay,” murmured Daisy, leisurely stretching out her body with a satisfied smile. “You’re on. Tonight, we’ll go out to a cocktail bar for a few drinks. The clientele is mostly professionals and it’s popular with lesbians.”

  “You want me to go out to a bar with you?”

  “Yep. Nicolle is sending the rest of your outfits today, isn’t she? Those white linen pants with the beige blouse will go very nicely. Not the boots though. Heels, so you can…you know…dangle.”

  “I’d better write down it all down,” Lindsey said with a harrumph. “I wouldn’t want to forget one of the important instructions.”

  “I’ll give you a printout you can study.”

  “You’ve a printout of this rubbish?”

  “Yes, and a video. It’s on a USB stick so you can watch it on the TV or your computer.”

  “I’ll read the printout but I won’t need to watch a video to grasp the finer points.”

  “You will,” said Daisy in her no-nonsense voice. “A picture is worth a thousand words. It only goes for twenty minutes. We had it specially made, so shall we adjourn to your TV?”

  “If I must, but it’ll have to be the computer. Bernice might see the TV.”

  “Okay, set the laptop up on the coffee table here.”

  After Lindsey strode off to her desk, Daisy pulled the small table closer. She patted the space beside her on the love seat. “Sit here. That way we can watch it together in case you have any questions.”

  For a minute it looked like Lindsey would object, but she eased down with a huff and opened the laptop. When Daisy inserted the USB stick, a picture of a busy trendy bar flashed onto the screen. She gazed at it proudly. This had been their biggest office outlay by far, hiring a professional film crew to make the video rather than try themselves. The two lead actors, with the improbable names of Buck and Candy, were part of the package. Daisy was left to provide the venue and crowd. She sent off the script to the actors with detailed instructions, booked a bar for one Monday morning, then Facebooked friends offering free drinks for the three-hour session. They had been inundated with a rent-a-crowd.

  With the cameras ready to roll, Buck had arrived first and immediately headed for the bar. Dressed smartly in fitting jeans, blue shirt, and a tailored sports coat, he looked dashing—perhaps too attractive for what she wanted. No woman in her right mind would knock him back. Even some of her lesbian friends had eyed him off. His face was rugged, his black hair thick and shiny, his nose classically straight and his mouth sculptured. Daisy, playing one of the bartenders, pointed to a beer sitting on the coaster when he sauntered over. He gave her a wink as he took the schooner, then sidled off to sit with a group of men at the other end of the room.

  Five minutes later Candy arrived in a tight red dress. At least five-ten in her spiky heels, she looked dazzling with glossy mane of platinum-blond hair framing a heart-shaped face, her breasts spilling over the low-cut neckline. Daisy could only shake her head. The siren wouldn’t have to try to get anyone’s attention. She had an inbuilt mating call nobody could ignore. But as it panned out, she needn’t have worried. They were consummate actors and followed the script to perfection, with just enough pauses for even the thickest client to follow their acting. She hoped Lindsey would deign to take notice of the moves.

  With a few quick twists, Daisy steered the cursor over the start arrow. “Right, here we go. As you can see, the action is in a bar.”

  Lindsey gave a little titter. Daisy ignored her and continued, “That’s Buck coming in now.”

  “He’s extremely hands
ome. Which one’s the woman.”

  “Candy will be in shortly. Buck has to settle in first.”

  “Candy? What sort of name is that? Sounds like a porn star.”

  “What does it matter? That’s just her stage name,” Daisy said, exasperated.

  “You’d have to wonder at her intelligence to call herself that.”

  “Concentrate on what they’re doing.”

  “Whatever.”

  “Here she comes now.”

  Lindsey, who had been lounging back in the chair, shot upright. “Good God! Why would she have to bother with all this stuff? She only has to crook her little finger and they’d all come running.”

  “Just look at the damn video,” Daisy growled.

  “Okay. I was just pointing out the obvious.”

  “They’re playacting, Lindsey. Don’t worry what they look like.”

  “How can I not help it? She’s pretty much in your face.”

  Daisy held in the irresistible urge to chuckle. Lindsey lapsed into silence and relaxed back to watch, intent on the screen. When the last scene faded with the actors chatting quietly together, Daisy clicked it off. “Well…what did think?”

  “Interesting.”

  “Do you want to watch it again? That’s what you’ll be doing tonight.”

  “I think I can remember it all,” Lindsey said, eyeing her thoughtfully. “I watched you serving the crowd. You were very efficient. Have you had a great deal of experience at bar work?”

  Daisy blinked, taken aback at the line of questioning. “I worked in a bar for a while to pay my way through university.”

  “Ah. That would have given you a great insight into human relations.”

  “I didn’t need it. I majored in human behaviour and sexuality.”

  “Yes, but to see it firsthand in that environment would have been very valuable.”

  Daisy cleared her throat, at a loss to keep track of Lindsey’s thought process. “So? How’s that relevant here? What’s it got to do with the video?”

  “Everything and nothing,” replied Lindsey. She dropped an arm on the back of the chair and began to pick absently at the velvet. “I’ve a proposition for you.”