by Maggie Brown
Daisy narrowed her eyes. “Go on.”
“I’ll do whatever you say without arguing if you do something for me.”
“It depends on what it is. We both know it would make things so much easier if you cooperated, but I’m employed specifically to help you find a soulmate. It has to be my priority.”
“I know, and I won’t compromise that,” Lindsey persisted. “But if you’re going to stay out here for a couple of weeks, I imagine our lessons won’t take up all your time. I want you to have some input into the software for my robots. Would you be able to help the company’s coders?”
“I wouldn’t have a problem. One of my post-grad courses was quantitative anthropology, which basically entails employing computer programs for pattern recognition within design and ethical data.”
“Wonderful. Now I’m not asking you to work for nothing—the remuneration will be in line with a top programmer’s salary. What do you say?”
“What exactly would you want? I imagine it has to be pretty detailed.”
“Yes, it would. I want you to give them a personality with a thorough background of a middle-class person born and bred in this country. Go as deep as you can—popular culture, religion, ancestry and so on.” She gave a wry smile. “Sorry, I’m telling you how to do your job. You’d know exactly what is required.”
Daisy couldn’t deny her spurt of interest in the proposal. The public usually perceived anthropology as the study of tribal people in remote areas where lifestyles were foreign and exotic, à la Margaret Mead. It was far from the truth. The science was more about how to communicate and socialise in the “here and now.” It was a study of what makes a human being unique—language, culture, religion, genetic makeup, and environment. There was no doubt that to build a personality from a clean slate would be a fascinating challenge. But did she have the time? Granted she was living on the premises, but still her primary objective was to find Lindsey a wife. She couldn’t ignore that.
“It’s tempting, but I’m not sure if I can find the time. I’m not prepared to compromise our marriage contract.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to finish in two weeks. I would imagine it would take much longer, but maybe you could make a start. I’ll run through what I’ve programmed myself, though it’s only basic. I haven’t the expertise in the field to produce an in-depth profile.”
Daisy wavered. Apart from the appeal of doing something innovating using her academic expertise, working with Lindsey might not be such a bad idea. The woman had been an entirely different person when she had shown her through the lab, so perhaps it could be an avenue to interact with her more. They could get to know each other, become friends. She suspected Lindsey was just as much in need of a friend as she was a wife. And if they became close, it wouldn’t be as uphill a battle to ease her into society.
“Perhaps you could email me what you’ve finished, and I can have a look,” she said, not prepared to commit herself at this stage. There was the agency to manage as well, and even though Lindsey was paying extra well, their reputation depended on a flow of clients.
“You’ll think about it?”
“I will, though bear in mind that we have to start socializing and I also have a business to run.”
“Thank you,” said Lindsey, all smiles. “After lunch, I’ll show you what I’ve done. Let’s adjourn to the dining room. Oh, sorry…I’m jumping the gun. Have you finished your lessons for the day?”
“I guess.” Daisy knew she had been outmanoeuvred. Lindsey had moved on. Her demeanour had slipped from cynical client to genial scientist in the blink of an eye. Even her voice had changed. Now it was melodic and fruity, like a crisp full wine. She gave a wry shrug. “We better finish up about three though. I want to hit the bar by six. A lot of professionals like to have a drink after work.”
Chapter Thirteen
As Lindsey nervously followed Daisy up the flight of steps to the Hazy Grape, she yet again wondered what had possessed her to take the silly bet. Public outings stressed her enough without the added tension of performance. When she hesitated on the top landing, Daisy quickly slid her hand against the small of her back. Her voice warm and encouraging like a primary school teacher urging on a struggling child, she ushered her through the door.
The place was alive with colour. There was bright art deco furnishings and vibrant wall hangings. The bar had a shiny copper tone, and behind it were rows of bottles shimmering in a multi-coloured display as they reflected the pendant lights hanging from a mirrored ceiling. Not that Lindsey was up to appreciating the décor. All she wanted to do was bolt back down the stairs, though there was no hope of that. Daisy had her sleeve in a firm grasp as she manoeuvred them through the crowd to the bar. “We’ll get our drinks before we find a table,” she said cheerfully. “What’ll you have? They do killer cocktails.”
“A vodka and orange will do,” Lindsey muttered as she tugged the fabric free.
“A screwdriver and a margarita,” Daisy called out to the bartender, then picked up a piece of cheese and an olive from a dish and popped them into her mouth. The service was slick, their drinks on the coasters in front of them within a minute. Lindsey automatically reached in her wallet for her credit card, but Daisy waved her away. “I’ll get this one. Let’s find a table that will give us a great view of the room.”
Her eyes firmly straight ahead, Lindsey followed her to a small table in the far corner. It was the ideal spot to scan the people in the room. The club was on the high end of the scale, filled with executive types in power suits as well as those dressed for a night out. Daisy hummed happily while she sipped her drink. “We’re in luck. There’re quite a few groups of women without men.”
Lindsey took a gulp of her vodka, needing the boost. The alcohol hit her stomach and she could feel the pleasant burn. “What happens now?”
“Pick a woman who’s facing our direction.”
“Okay,” muttered Lindsey. She swept her eyes around the room and zeroed in on a sloe-eyed beauty with long glossy dark hair and red pouty lips. She snickered to herself. The woman looked as unapproachable as an iceberg in Antarctica—there was no way she’d even look twice at her. She pointed a finger. “There…the dark-haired woman in the black dress with the diamond-drop earrings.”
Daisy checked her out thoroughly and nodded. “Right. Shouldn’t be a problem for you.”
“Rubbish. She’s probably straight,” said Lindsey sharply.
“Won’t matter. A lot of women are bi-curious.”
“Huh! If you say so. Okay, when do I begin?”
Daisy took another swig of her margarita. “Go to the bar for another round. Walk past her table on the way back and do something to catch her eye.”
Lindsey hastily polished off the rest of her drink. She was going to need a load of Dutch courage for this. She forced herself to get up, skirting around the tables to reach the end of the bar. After signalling to the barman for a repeat order, she rested back to study the woman in the black dress. She was engrossed in conversation with three women—all looked in their mid- to late-thirties. From their designer clothes, jewellery, and mannerisms, they smacked of wealth and power. There was no mistaking that look. She’d seen it often enough at her parents’ dinner parties.
Carrying the two glasses, Lindsey wandered toward their table then exaggerated a stumble as she reached them. They looked up at her with startled glances. Ignoring the others, she met her target’s blue eyes. The woman didn’t turn away at once but held eye contact for a fraction longer. Bingo! Lindsey gave her a slight nod before she moved on.
“Well?” asked Daisy when she put the drinks down.
Lindsey shrugged. “She held my gaze.”
“Cool. Now do your thing while we talk.”
“Won’t the two of us being together put her off?”
“If you play your part properly, she’ll get the message you’re available.”
Lindsey regarded her dubiously but refrained from any more argument.
Just better to get it over with. She began with a slow sensuous movement, caressing the side of her throat down to the top of the collarbone. After sipping her drink, she teased the top of the glass with her tongue. As she talked, she fiddled with her hair, pouted with an occasional head toss, crossed and uncrossed her legs, slid a fingertip up and down the glass and played with her earrings. In between, she threw a couple of quick looks in the woman’s direction. Aware she probably looked like a shameless vamp on the prowl, she quashed down her acute embarrassment. When she began to dangle a shoe off her toe, she snuck another look over her shoulder. The woman was staring blatantly straight at her. Lindsey raised the stakes, sliding a finger across the top of her cleavage while she swung the shoe in a slow circle.
She turned back to Daisy to find her staring at her chest, her face a rosy red. “Damnit, Lindsey,” she whispered. “Tone it down.”
“Too much?”
“Shit yes. Be subtler next time.”
“Okay. What happens now?” asked Lindsey with a shake of her head.
“Go to the loo. She’ll follow you.”
“You think she’s interested?”
Daisy groaned. “She wouldn’t be flesh and blood if she weren’t. You were so good I’m nearly ready to jump you. Now go.”
Oddly aroused to think she had excited Daisy, Lindsey rose reluctantly from her seat. “Promise me you won’t leave me too long with her.”
“I won’t. When you’re ready to leave, pull your earlobe. I’ll ring you and you can say there’s a family emergency.”
“Right, here I go.” Lindsey resisted the urge to dash through the crowd, though the tension in her belly increased by the second as she slipped past the tables. On the way, she risked a glance at the woman. She was watching her intently. Automatically, Lindsey looked around at Daisy—she too had her eyes locked on her. By the time she reached the short corridor leading to the toilets, her face was glossy with perspiration. With shaky hands, she pushed open the door and sank onto the pedestal with a long whoosh. She waited a minute before exiting the cubicle. Relieved to find the woman was nowhere in the room, she washed her hands, tidied her hair and hurried outside.
Black fabric was the first thing to catch the corner of her eye as she stepped into the corridor. Lindsey turned her head to see the woman against the wall, her arms casually crossed. Now that she was standing, it was evident her slinky cocktail dress was designed to accent her willowy figure. She looked cool and elegant, attributes that did nothing to allay Lindsey’s anxiety. She moistened her lips and managed a sultry smile. “Hello,” she murmured.
“Hi there,” said the woman. She moved away from the wall, stepping closer. “I’m Marian Carmichael.”
“Lindsey…um …Ford.”
“I couldn’t help noticing you and your friend.”
“Daisy’s my PA.”
“Would you like to have a drink with me at the bar?” asked Marian with a brilliant smile.
“I’d love to.”
“Great. I trust your assistant won’t mind.”
“No, she’ll be fine with it. We were only planning to have a couple of drinks. She has another engagement shortly.”
“Lovely.”
Lindsey allowed herself to be led through the crowd. After they ordered, Marian surveyed her with half-closed eyes. “You look like you know how to enjoy yourself, Lindsey. Why haven’t I seen you here before?”
“To tell the truth, I didn’t know this place existed. My PA suggested it,” Lindsey tilted her head and flicked a blond strand away from her eye, “and I’m so glad she did.”
“You’re from here?”
“Yes. I have an office in the city though I travel a lot.”
“I’m an investment banker, but let’s not talk shop tonight.” She lowered her hand to Lindsey’s knee. “What does a woman like you do for recreation?”
“Oh…this and that. I’m flexible. What about you?”
“Ah…I’m not an outdoorsy type. More passive sports interest me.”
Lindsey pulled at her earlobe. “Me too.”
A lilting laugh purred into her ear and the fingers began to draw circles on her thigh. “How about we get out of here? My apartment is only a block away and I’ve a bottle of champagne on ice.”
Another more desperate tug on the ear—where the hell was Daisy? Lindsey tried not to flinch away, but she struggled to maintain a friendly calm. “Hold it together,” she admonished herself, but the panic was now just below her skin. If it burst free, she would be powerless to stop it. Then to her immense relief, her phone rang. With an apologetic shrug, she dug out the phone from her purse and pretended to read the caller ID. “Forgive me, but I have to take this.”
After a few curt yeses and nos, she tapped it off. “Damn…I’m so sorry, Marian. There’s an emergency at home, nothing major but I do have to go. I’d like a rain check on that drink.”
“What a shame,” exclaimed Marian, her face scrunched up with disappointment. She handed over a card from her pocket. “Here’s my phone number. Call me.”
Lindsey tucked the card carefully in a slot in her wallet and slid off the stool. “I’ll be in touch,” she said, then after a slight hesitation, craned forward and pecked Marian on the cheek. “Sorry again,” she called out as she hurried off to the front door where Daisy waited.
Without a word, Lindsey brushed past and ran down the stairs. Only when she reached the bottom did the panic attack subside. It left a feeling of complete inadequacy, a black hole that had swallowed every ounce of self-worth. She was pathetic, a total social misfit. With deep long breaths, she waited until Daisy walked up beside her before turning to face her. “I apologise,” she said. “I had a bit of a moment there and just had to get out.”
“Hey,” said Daisy cheerfully. “There’s nothing to apologise about. This was only your first outing. You were fantastic.”
“There you go patronizing me again.”
“Lindsey, believe me when I say you were great.”
“Don’t you get it? I nearly had a meltdown in there.”
“But you didn’t. You played your part to perfection.”
“That’s all very well to say that, but I barely went the distance,” whined Lindsey, wishing she could stamp her foot like a child. Daisy was being deliberately blockheaded about this. A little empathy wouldn’t hurt.
“That’s because you’re only up to step one. The next tutorial teaches you how to communicate verbally once you’ve established contact.”
“Then why did you let me go so far?” Lindsey asked incredulously.
“I admit I shouldn’t have, but the bet was a spur-of-the-moment thing. To be quite honest, you exceeded all my expectations. You’re a natural,” said Daisy. “Anyhow, the phone call worked, didn’t it?”
“Took you long enough to make it. Besides, I didn’t enjoy leading that woman on. She was nice,” snapped Lindsey. “And do you always have to be so damn jolly? It gets a bit wearing.”
“I’ll try to be more serious in the future if it makes you happier,” said Daisy with an eye roll. “Come on. Let’s get something to eat.”
“You want to go to a restaurant now?”
“Well, I’m starving…I don’t know about you.”
“Restaurants are a minefield for the socially inept,” said Lindsey bitterly.
“No need to worry. We’re not going anywhere fancy. There’s an Irish pub in the next street that serves great meals,” said Daisy, waving in the general direction. “No one will even give you a second glance because they have a great band Saturday night. It’s always a hoot.”
Even though she was miffed, Lindsey noticed how the glow of the streetlight caught the highlights in Daisy’s auburn hair and accentuated the smoky grey of her eyes. She really was a fetching woman, she mused. It was odd how quickly she had seeped under her defences. Normally someone so bubbly would send her anxiety skyrocketing, but Daisy seemed to have the opposite effect. Lindsey was also beginning to look forw
ard to their sparring and banter, though from the stubborn look on Daisy’s face it would be pointless to argue about dinner. There was no winning this one. “Okay, I guess I could do with something to eat,” Lindsey acquiesced.
Chapter Fourteen
The Bally Bog was one of Daisy’s favourite haunts, a cosy Irish pub with good hearty food and brimming with camaraderie. As usual on a Saturday night, the bar was cluttered with people and buzzed with noise. A waiter, dressed in a garish green leprechaun suit, led them to a dining table far enough away from the rowdy drinkers to enjoy their meal in peace. To her delight, Sean O’Malley appeared at their table as soon as they sat down. He was the proprietor of the pub, a barrel of a man with a florid face, a bent nose courtesy of his days in the boxing ring, and a mess of greying sandy hair. He was also one of the nicest people she had ever met and one of Marigold’s first clients.
With his wife and two teenage children, he had immigrated to Australia from Ireland to find work after the global financial crisis hit. Three years later his wife died from breast cancer, and when his son and daughter eventually left home to pursue their own careers, he had been left desperately lonely. Daisy introduced him to Maureen, a pleasant unassuming woman in her mid-forties, equally as lonely. They made the perfect match.
When Daisy leapt up and hugged him, he gave her a smacking kiss on the cheek. “Daisy luv, how are you?”
“Very well, Sean. This is my friend Lindsey.”
“Tis grand to meet you, Lindsey.” His huge hand swallowed hers before he turned back to Daisy with lowered brows. “You’ve become a bit of a stranger. Maureen would love to see you sometime.”
“I know. It has been work, work, lately. I promise I’ll give her a ring.”
“You’ve too much life in you to hide away at home. It’s good to see you out on the town tonight. So, would you be wanting a pint of Guinness?”
“You know I don’t like stout,” said Daisy with a laugh. “But I’ll have a glass of the Kilkenny draught. What about you, Lindsey?”