by Maggie Brown
“Hey. You’re blowing what I said way out of proportion. Of course I want to continue with you.” Lindsey studied her watch. “What about you ring Mackenzie now to see if ten tomorrow morning out here will suit? It’s only eight so she’ll still be up. If she can’t make it then, find out what time she would prefer. Tell her the gate will be unlocked.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’ll see what she has to say before I commit myself.”
Daisy pushed back her chair with a smile. “Okay, I’ll do it now.”
“I’ll make us hot chocolate while you’re on the phone.”
Much to her relief, the phone was answered on the second ring. Clearly pleased to have scored the interview, Mac assured her she would the meet with Lindsey the next morning at the proposed time. Daisy texted through the directions, pointing out the turnoff wasn’t on the GPS so not to waste her time.
Everything done and dusted, she joined Lindsey waiting in the lounge with the mugs. The rest of the evening went pleasantly enough, though she was careful not to touch on any subject that could be contentious. Lindsey seemed equally as wary and at nine thirty, she rose to go.
Frustrated, Daisy rose to walk her to the door. Now the easy comradeship between them was gone, she had no idea how to get it back. Lindsey must have been feeling as disheartened because she turned abruptly at the door and gazed at her solemnly. “We’re all right aren’t we, Daisy?”
She gave a helpless twitch of her shoulders. “I hope so. Are we?”
Then Lindsey did something that completely startled her. She stepped forward and gathered Daisy into a tight hug. It was so out of character that for a second Daisy went still, but then on its own volition, her body melted into the embrace. As their curves melded, the initial surprised pleasure shimmered into something deeper, something very sensual. She pressed close, revelling in Lindsey’s essence. She smelt glorious: vanilla and woodsy musk tinged with a hint of polish. Her senses swam as her body responded to the scent. Her heart began to pound and her nipples strained against her bra. She began to tremble. When Lindsey stepped away after a last squeeze, Daisy was left aching with want.
Then Lindsey abruptly turned with a “Thanks for dinner,” and quickly walked down the garden path.
Daisy leant against the doorframe, watching her disappear through the gate. Shaken, she whispered, “Wow!” and continued to stare blankly into the night.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Lindsey eyed the journalist warily as she took a seat across the desk. She didn’t care much for reporters—to her mind they were intrusive busybodies. She missed having Daisy with her, but she knew the interview was hers to do alone. Mackenzie Griffith wasn’t quite what she expected though. There wasn’t the hint of the arrogance that seemed to be built into television interviewers.
She looked, in fact, nothing like the stereotype. She was slim and tanned, her wheat-coloured hair tossed casually in a shaggy short cut. Her otherwise attractive face was marred by a thin scar running down her left cheek, which she had made no effort to hide with makeup. And judging by her T-shirt and army cargo pants, she wasn’t out to impress.
Mackenzie leaned over the table, her hand extended. “I’m Mac Griffith.”
“Call me Lindsey, Mac,” Lindsey said as she dipped forward to shake it. “Did Daisy explain about the interview?”
“She did. Perhaps you would like to tell me in your own words what you want out of this article.”
Lindsey drummed her fingers on the table wondering how to phrase her reply. Griffith obviously wasn’t a fool, so candour was probably the best option. “Since my early twenties, I’ve only mixed socially with my work colleagues and professional peers. This directly stems from a motorbike accident.”
“I presume then that it was a bad crash?”
“I lost my left arm as well as other multiple injuries, some severe.”
Mac gasped. “Christ…that’s bloody terrible.” She cast a glance at Lindsey’s left hand. “I had no idea. I imagine you experienced serious PTSD as well. How’s that going?”
Lindsey didn’t even try to deny it. By her sympathetic tone, Mac seemed to know what she was going through. “It has taken a long time to get under control.”
“Yes. People think it goes away but it doesn’t fully.” She stroked her scar. “I refused plastic surgery to remove this. I left it there to remind me how short and fragile life truly is.”
“What happened if I may ask?”
“I was in a hotel wine cellar in Bosnia with some press buddies when the town was bombed. The ceiling collapsed on us. It was a couple of days before they dug us out.”
Appalled, Lindsey stared at her. “How dreadful for you.”
“It was bloody awful,” Mac said flatly. “I suffered PTSD and a lot of guilt because I was saved by those on top of me. They didn’t make it. A dear friend showed me it wasn’t my fault and Rachel, my partner, helps me manage the nightmares. Time does heal.”
“You were lucky to have someone,” Lindsey said unable to suppress the bitterness in her voice.
“You didn’t have support?”
“Hardly. My mother said I brought it on myself. Blamed me for going off on the bike and leaving my guests.”
As Mac looked at her thoughtfully, Lindsey couldn’t help squirming under the probing gaze. “Do you blame yourself?” she asked.
Lindsey almost couldn’t get the words out. “Amy…she died in the accident. I lived.”
“You know you have to let it go.”
“How can I,” she whispered in a trembling voice. “I can still see the truck hurtling around the corner. It haunts my dreams.”
“You said yourself it was an accident. It wasn’t your fault.”
For the first time in her life, Lindsey felt a strong urge to confide in someone. She finally needed to tell the whole truth, needed to get it off her chest or she’d never be able to move on. “But it was. I had been drinking champagne at my birthday party and was a little drunk. When the truck suddenly appeared in front of us, I panicked and yanked Amy’s arm. The bike wobbled and the next second, we clipped a headlight. The bike shot into the air. I tumbled off and my arm was squashed under the back wheel of the truck. I can’t remember what happened next, but the driver said my dress caught on something and I was dragged along the bitumen until it stopped. Amy was thrown over the handlebars.”
“You were lucky to be alive.”
“I guess,” Lindsey said morosely. “But it doesn’t alter the fact that because I did something stupid, Amy died.”
“You probably would have done the same cold sober. We can’t be responsible for our reactions under stress. I learnt that often enough in war zones.”
“Maybe so. But then I did the unforgivable. When the police interviewed me in hospital when I could finally speak coherently, I denied having anything to do with the accident. I told them I couldn’t remember what happened. How callous is that?”
“Nobody would judge you for that, Lindsey.”
“It wouldn’t matter. I do a good enough job of that myself.”
“And you’ve hidden away ever since, holed up in this house with your guilt. Is that what you’re telling me?”
Lindsey looked at her in bewilderment and struggled to collect her thoughts. “I was too self-conscious to go out in society, but I didn’t hide away only because of guilt. When I lost my arm, I was devastated. I was a scientist, I invented things…the loss of my arm was huge. The prosthetic one the hospital gave me was so basic that it was demoralizing to have to wear it. It was next to useless, and it hurt. I decided then what I was going to do with my life. Give proper mobility and pride back to amputees. I set up a company to bring prosthetics into the future. High-tech stuff. I hired five of the best young minds fresh out of the universities, and with my father’s help set up an R&D lab.”
“Then why are you just coming out in public now?”
Lindsey gave a long sigh. “Because I’m lonely. I want someone to lov
e and friends to confide in. I took a hard look at myself and realized I was turning into a crusty, bitter relic.”
“You’re hardly that, Lindsey. Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Mac said with a shake of her head. “Now I take it you’re worried about your arm?”
“I’m paranoid about it. I know a friend would accept it unconditionally, but I can’t see how a lover would.”
“It’d be a hard man who didn’t.”
“Woman.”
“Ah,” said Mac with a smile. “I thought you could be but wasn’t quite sure. Let me rephrase that statement. Any woman who shunned you because of your disability wouldn’t be worth knowing.”
“That’s what Daisy says, but over the years, I’ve been brainwashed into believing nobody would want me. When you hear something often enough, it’s hard not to believe it.” When Mac raised an eyebrow, Lindsey added dolefully, “My mother.”
“Shit, she must be some kind of ogre.”
“She is,” Lindsey replied, resisting a strange urge to giggle. “She insists on perfection. Abhors anything flawed.”
“Well, bully for her. I hoped you told her to get nicked. Did she scream at you?”
Lindsey felt a fresh burst of humiliation. “Our family doesn’t do loud emotional bursts. She’s subtler than that. I left eventually, but I had to listen to her recriminations for two years while I went through my rehabilitation because I needed support. As soon as I was pronounced fit, I moved into my own place.”
“Good for you,” Mac said with a nod. “Do you see her much now?”
“I haven’t seen her since I left twelve years ago.” She looked at Mac anxiously. “I don’t want anything about my mother in the article.”
“Understood. This discussion is off the record—it’s to help me to understand where you’re coming from. Now tell me about your work and your charities.”
After the unwanted rush of emotion evoked by the conversation, Lindsey suddenly felt free. She was over the worst, coming out of the dark forest of her tangled memories. Her spirits rose as she began to talk about her life’s work. The pain gradually vanished, replaced by a feeling of self-worth tinged with a little euphoria. At the end of her monologue, she had to pull herself out of the zone to focus on her audience. Relaxed back in the chair, Mac had stopped taking notes and was simply listening.
“Sorry,” Lindsey mumbled, feeling awkward. “I made this more of an exposition than a simple explanation. You must have been bored.”
Mac chuckled. “I can’t say I understood all of it, but I got the general gist. Enough for the article to make me sound a science buff.”
“Where will we go from here?”
“If you agree to a published article, I’ll do a write up for Woman’s Day. It’ll target women. I’d also like to do one for Cosmos, though that will be more technical. I’ll need your help with that one. I’ll have you review everything before I submit it anywhere.” She reached into her bag and produced a camera. “Would you agree to a few photos? Most reporters use professional photographers but I prefer to take my own.”
Lindsey’s heart fluttered. Photographs sounded so final. “What do you want them of?”
“You in your office and lab. After we take some here, I’d like a few of you working on an artificial arm and the mobility suit.”
“Sorry, I don’t allow anyone into my laboratory, but wait here and I’ll fetch the suit and an arm. Maybe we might take a stroll in the garden afterwards. That might interest readers,” Lindsey said hopefully.
“Okay. Get someone to take some photos in the lab and send them to me for Cosmos.” Mac flashed a smile. “Your garden gives me an idea. Maybe I could also do a smaller article as well for House and Garden. It has a huge circulation.”
Lindsey exhaled slowly as her unease subsided. “I’ll leave all that in your hands. We’ll have morning tea before we start.”
The photo shoot wasn’t as simple as Lindsey had envisaged. Mac fussed around with the lighting, taking numerous shots in various positions. Then she did the same in the garden. After what seemed an interminable session, she eventually announced that she was satisfied.
When Lindsey ushered her out to the door, she felt completely drained. And bruised. It had been confronting, but as she watched the car ease off down the driveway, she also felt somewhat liberated as well.
Her life was now on a new path. Whether she liked it or not, the wheels were in motion.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Hmmm… hold it more firmly. Yes, that’s good…just like that,” Lindsey murmured.
Daisy’s brows creased in concentration as she squeezed the nipple between her fingers. The dusty coral-pink nub felt incredible, so taut yet silky to the touch. “It’s perfect,” she whispered.
“Stretch it out a bit more and hold it very still.”
Daisy gently wriggled it out further, watching as Lindsey soldered the underneath wires to the centre of the brown slightly puckered areola on top of the robot’s breast. “Gosh, it’s so life-like. A work of art.”
Lindsey smiled, though she didn’t look up until everything was firmly attached. “She’s just about finished. What shall we call her?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Let’s sleep on it.”
“Okay. We’d better call it a morning and get ready for our luncheon date.”
“I’ll see you in an hour then.” The melodious humming of “I Could Have Danced All Night” followed her out the door. Whatever she had discussed with Mac had certainly put Lindsey into a better frame of mind. She had been cheerfully affable the rest of the week, a side of the diffident scientist she’d not yet seen.
Outside, the bright sunlight and gentle breeze mirrored Daisy’s mood. Everything was going so well. The only blot on the horizon was that her time out here was nearly over. It had been a relaxed four days post-interview, with the theatre date the highlight. After some dragging of feet at the door of the Entertainment Centre, once the first act began Lindsey seemed to relax. The play was an evergreen favourite, and it was with obvious emotion that she said goodnight at the cottage door.
Once the tuition was wrapped up, it seemed only natural that Daisy would continue to help in the lab when needed. They worked well together, their silence as comfortable as their conversation. Her initial superficial interest in the science of robotics deepened into one of fascination. Lindsey was the cleverest woman she had ever met, generously sharing her knowledge. Daisy only hoped her profiling would be acceptable—the bar was set very high though it was a challenge in which she was revelling. It was a long time since she’d had to use her anthropology so specifically, and she hadn’t realized how much she missed the work.
At the cottage gate, she checked her watch. Half an hour to get ready. Normally there was no need to book for lunch with so many good dining places in the city, but the Chelsea was always popular, especially on a Saturday. After she dived through the shower, she donned her floral dress with the sweetheart neckline and took a little more care than usual applying her makeup. When the toot of a horn echoed outside, she slipped on her sandals and stepped out the door.
The sight of Lindsey immaculately dressed in navy slacks, striped shirt, and three-quarter sleeved, fitted white coat sent a warm tingle through her belly. Strangely, she felt a bit tongue-tied as she sank into the plush upholstery. This Lindsey was far more daunting than the one she’d just left in a stained lab coat. Quashing down her flutter of attraction, she gave an approving nod. “I love that outfit.”
“It’s comfortable. You look very nice. Pretty dress.”
“It’s a Kate Spade.” She held up the matching floral handbag. “Isn’t this delightful? Don’t you think her creations are divine?”
“Um…yes.”
Daisy chuckled. Lindsey might be a science star but she didn’t know the first thing about fashion. “Tell the truth. You don’t know who she is, do you?”
“Haven’t a clue,” Lindsey replied with a gleam in her eye. “But then again, it
doesn’t really matter. You don’t have to wear designer clothes to look attractive.”
“Why, Lindsey, I do believe you’re mastering the art of flirting.”
This brought a smile. “I do believe I am.”
Relaxed now, they chattered about their work until the Mercedes purred to a stop. Daisy looked around in surprise. “We’re here already?”
“Yes, ladies,” said Joe.
Alighting onto the footpath, she was pleased to see Lindsey immediately walk to the door. She didn’t hang back when the waiter showed them to their table, displaying no nervousness in the crowded room. Once seated, she discreetly studied Lindsey reading the menu. She did look very smart.
A smile touched Lindsey’s lips when she caught her staring. “What?”
“Oh nothing. I was just thinking you looked rather nifty.”
Lindsey placed her hand over her heart with a chuckle. “Flattery, Daisy, will get you everywhere. Now tell me what you recommend on the menu.”
“The calamari are delicious, but then so are all the dishes. Their chef is fantastic. Pick anything and it’ll be a treat.”
For the next hour they concentrated on their meal, happy to keep the conversation light. It was an unspoken agreement that emotional topics were off the table on this date. There had been enough of those the past two weeks.
After the dessert plates were cleared away, Daisy sat back with a contented sigh. “That was yummy.”
“It was superb,” agreed Lindsey. “I’ll make sure this place is on the agenda when I start dating. Maybe Nicolle would like to have dinner here.”
“She should love it,” said Daisy, scrunching up her nose at the thought, but quickly forced a smile when she met Lindsey’s eyes. “The movie doesn’t start for another hour. Shall we have coffee?”
“Good idea.” She signalled for service.
As she idly watched the waiter manoeuvre through the tables with their order, Daisy noticed a woman across the room staring at them. When their gazes met, the woman looked away quickly. Daisy lingered on her face trying to place her but couldn’t. She concluded she’d never seen her before. When the coffee arrived, she poured in milk, stirring it around until a tiny whirlpool formed in the centre. Then casually, she raised the cup to her lips and shot the woman another glance. Again, she was looking directly their way.