by Jane Cousins
“My clothes!” That was a hot button issue for Devon, she’d packed very sparsely for what she thought would be a lightning fast visit. “In this dry creek-bed of a town?”
“Oh, you’ll be fine.” Alma dismissed Devon’s outrage with a casual wave. “I shop here and have no problems, and there’s always the internet. Now, do you agree to my terms?” Alma held out a pen.
Devon bit back a frustrated sigh. Once more she slowly let her eyes travel down Alma’s list of rules, specifically those that related to her meeting the prospective candidates, she focused upon the proposed timeline. “Why have you allocated a week for each candidate if I only have to meet with them for a…” She found the specific rule. “Ninety minute date?”
“Are you really so naïve darling girl? Each of these men…” Alma bought her hand down to rest on the pile of questionnaires. “…is a reluctant worm squirming on a hook. I will do my bit and guarantee that they arrive at the Sanctuary, it will be your job to see that they meet every one of the criteria I have laid out.”
“What if I can get through the candidates faster than this timeline? Can I leave early?”
Alma nodded. “That seems fair. The timetable is only a guideline after all.”
“And you’ll keep my family off my back?” Devon picked up the pen.
“Yes.” Alma smiled as Devon signed at the bottom of the document. “But I can’t guarantee that mine will leave you alone.”
Devon rolled her eyes, she could deal with the yokels. It seems like she had herself a match maker. Glancing up she fought not to squirm as she met Alma’s gaze. The older woman’s brown eyes suddenly flashing with little gold sparks that seemed to shoot straight through her.
For a brief moment Devon regretted not shuffling the questionnaires and just randomly choosing a husband from the pile.
No, she would have no regrets. This was the most logical, rational way of approaching her problem. Really, she couldn’t understand why there wasn’t a line around the block waiting to see the Southern Sanctuary match maker.
Chapter One
Seven weeks later
Devon was seriously considering hunting down Alma Richart and throttling the woman with her bare hands.
“Hey Devon. I hope you remembered your fingerprint kit this time.”
Devon ran through a plethora of scathing responses before deciding not to waste her breath. The locals were so dim they seemed to find her sarcastic replies and snarling retorts amusing. She settled instead for patting her handbag and nodding her head, continuing to weave her way across the room.
“Don’t forget to ask for three separate forms of identification this time, Devon.”
“With photos!”
“What about the handcuffs? Did you remember to bring the handcuffs?”
“Of course she remembered the handcuffs, Marvin. And I heard from Maureen she purchased some of those plastic zip-tie thingamabobs that law enforcement use these days.”
“Smart. Suppose that’s why she’s a doctor and all.”
Devon fought not to roll her eyes. She’d been doing so much of it since she’d moved to the district that she was in danger of giving herself eye strain. The crowd shifted slightly, more and more people hurriedly taking their seats. Out of the corner of her eye she noted money was still changing hands, ten minutes until the betting books officially closed.
Ignoring all the activity, Devon focused her attention on the one table sitting vacant, located smack dab in the middle of the bar. Nico Yanez, one of the brothers who owned the Five Alarm Bar was currently standing beside it, personally placing a jug of water and glasses on the table. Argentinian by birth, Nico gave her a smouldering dark eyed look.
Devon came to a stop next to him. Eying the table set for two before slowly letting her gaze roam over the packed bar. Six weeks ago, when she’d first designated the Five Alarm Bar as the location for all her dates she could have had her pick of tables, as the bar had been pretty much a customer-free zone. Now, people were lined up three deep at the long mahogany bar trying to get their orders filled before the action commenced.
“I’m thinking of charging an appearance fee.” She commented icily.
Nico just smiled and pulled out a chair.
Taking the proffered seat Devon contemplated with bone deep longing the large frosted glass of white wine Nico placed before her. “I can’t.” Staring at the glass. “It’s against the rules.”
Nico flashed white teeth and just pushed the glass closer to her. “I’ve seen the rules.” Of course he had. Somehow they’d been leaked and there was a copy up on every notice board in the Sanctuary. “This is on the house. A small thank you.” His soft musical accent soothing to her fraying temper.
“I still can’t quite work out how, in a town full of circus freaks, I managed to become the main attraction?”
Nico shrugged, his light toffee brown eyes, soulful and deep. “You know they all wish you only the very best.”
“It’s like they’ve never even heard of cable TV.” Devon grumped. Grabbing the freebie glass of wine and taking a big gulp. Feeling no guilt what so ever. Thanks to her and her ‘dates’, the Five Alarm was enjoying unprecedented popularity.
When she’d been researching possible locations for her dates, she’d been pleasantly surprised to stumble across the venue. Though when she’d initially walked in, it had been so quiet she hadn’t been sure the place was even open for business.
The renovated old fire station reminded her of any number of swish upscale establishments she’d find in Sydney. Lots of red brick, soaring - pressed tin - ceilings and a gorgeous view out to the beach and sea beyond through the glass rear of the building, which could be opened or closed, depending upon the elements. It was perfect and central to her needs, half way between the house she was renting by the river and the hospital, where she now worked.
“So what’s the story on this one?” Nico enquired.
“Suitor number six?” There was no point in feigning ignorance regarding her upcoming date. Devon knew why she was here. Nico knew why she was here. Rivers and Lakes, the whole Sanctuary knew why she was here. “According to his questionnaire, he has no fixed address and dabbles in photography.” Which probably meant he sofa crashed on all his friends and liked to take nudie photos of his girlfriends on his mobile phone. “He’s an armchair adventurer who someday hopes to conquer Mount Wycheproof, without the aid of oxygen or Sherpa guides.”
“Mount Wycheproof?” Nico frowned.
“Smallest designated mountain in the world, located in Victoria, Australia. Stands at 141ft high. I believe there is a car park and kiosk at the base.”
“Ah.” Nico nodded and grinned again, though the amusement didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Well at least you know he has a sense of humour and is literate enough to conduct an online search.”
Hush descended upon the room suddenly.
Devon’s gaze shot to the clock above the bar. “And the only other thing I know about suitor number six is that he is now officially late.” Why was she not surprised?
She waved off Nico as he made his excuses to return to the bar to help his brother deal with the crowd of customers. Painfully aware of the number of eyes upon her, Devon sought to relax and remain calm. There was no point in grinding her teeth or taking her frustrations out on the other patrons. Suitor number six would pay soon enough, let’s just hope he was merely late rather than standing her up completely.
Did the brothers not communicate? Had they not passed the word yet that she wasn’t someone to be trifled with? Well… she checked her notes… Liam Chambers, would learn soon enough. Just as she’d been forced to learn a few invaluable lessons over the past six weeks.
When it came to dating the Merrow, always ask for multiple photo ID, preferably backed up with a fingerprint analysis.
Establish upfront exactly how much cash the candidate had on them, since according to the rules the Merrow had to pay for the date, and it meant the difference betw
een tap water and a plain salad versus a glass of wine and the fish of the day.
Double check… and then triple check that the windows in the men’s bathroom were locked.
Know what the weather forecast is, as Alma’s rules enforced social chit chat, and you could never go wrong with a bland topic like the weather.
If the potential suitor turned up on time, be suspicious.
If the suitor was late, be suspicious.
Don’t ever leave the suitor alone in the vicinity of her purse. When it came time to pay the bill, if the suitor produced cash or a credit card with a flourish, request everyone in the room check that their wallet and valuables were still in their pockets.
Absently Devon rubbed her temples as she glanced up at the clock behind the bar. Ten minutes late now. Money changed hands around her. Some people looking depressed, some beginning to look nervous. Honestly, if they were going to open a betting book on when her date would turn up they should have learnt by now that punctuality was a loose and elusive concept to the Merrow.
That’s why she’d discreetly placed a wager on the fifty-seven minute mark. Call her a starry eyed optimist.
Hmm, Devon idly wondered what suitor number six, this Liam Chambers, would be like. Would he be a bigger jerk than suitor three? Whine more than suitor one? Be slimier than suitor four? Surely he couldn’t be anymore obviously gay and attempting badly to hide it than suitor number two?
She was sincerely annoyed at this hideous waste of her valuable time but at the same time vaguely curious to see just how much of a complete an utter disaster Liam Chambers, suitor number six, would turn out to be.
If nothing else, her dates gave her great stories to tell Nell’s girlfriends. Who, for some insane reason, seemed to believe that she was their friend too… Huh, it was kind of funny. Devon didn’t really have friends and certainly not girlfriends. There was something too hard, too arrogant about her. She was a natural leader, used to hangers-on, but not equals. But here at the Sanctuary, Nell had introduced Devon to her cousins and friends and they had taken to her with startling ease.
Bitches weren’t even scared of her haughtiest glare and dismissed her Makura killing three inch nails without a second glance. In fact, a couple of those women could have given her lessons on being hard and arrogant… they did it with such envious ease. They were a strange and unpredictable lot, accepting her presence without question, actually seeming to enjoy her company.
It really was a weird little town.
Twenty minutes late now. Draining the last of her white wine Devon reflected that this was about the time she’d become suspicious that date number one, Lewis Chambers, was an imposter. Idiot! Any sane, smart… vaguely normal person with a moral compass would have cancelled their date if they knew they weren’t going to be able to make it. Lewis, being a sneaky selfish Merrow, decided instead to hire a homeless drifter to turn up and pretend to be him.
Rule number one of hiring in help, advise them that if they want to pass as the real Merrow deal that they will need to add salt to their tap water before drinking it. Amateur.
It had taken her four days to find the real Lewis, holed up in a rented cabin over at the Hidden Cove Camping Ground. Asshole had decided his time would be better spent hunched over a laptop, playing some stupid online war game than doing her the courtesy of showing up for a simple ninety minute meet and greet.
Breaking into his cabin, hog-tying him with her hair and hauling him off to the Five Alarm Bar had been child’s play. But had also attracted a bunch of intrigued onlookers who’d quickly spread the word concerning Devon’s dating quest.
Thus a spectator sport had been born.
Lewis had spent the entire ninety minutes tied to a chair, frothing at the mouth, blaming her for the loss of some stupid mythical online treasure trove and the respect of a battalion of big breasted warrior babes with ridiculous gamer names like TripleDDD, and LuvTits.
It had come as no surprise at the end of their ninety minute date to discover that Lewis had approximately four dollars and eighty-five cents on him. It seems being a professional gamer translated to a lot of imaginary wealth in mythical online worlds but didn’t actually convert to a steady income in the real one. She’d had no compunction in handing over his watch and diamond stud earring to cover the cost of their meal and drinks.
Diamond stud earring? How eighties. Just turning up and letting her catch a glimpse of his dyed white blonde hair, scraggy soul patch, neck tattoo of what looked like a dragon clutching a lightsabre, and his choice in jewellery would have ensured Lewis was cut from the running of potential husband material. She couldn’t imagine ever introducing him to her acquaintances… her colleagues.
Suitor number six was now forty minutes late. More money exchanged hands around her. Ignoring it all Devon crossed her legs, contemplating for a moment her new shiny Miu Miu black patent leather boots. Who knew she’d luck into such gorgeous footwear here in this little backwater ditch of a town, certainly not her.
A few days after taking up reluctant residence she’d been stomping along the main shopping thoroughfare, Beach Road, seething over how bright and sunny it was and how ridiculously friendly the locals all were. Though even in her filthy state of mind she couldn’t help but admire her surroundings, it was like someone had taken all the best aspects of Australian beach living and combined it with New Orleans French Quarter funk. It was the buildings along the main shopping strip she decided, multiple stories, with lovely wrap around balconies, decorated with artistic iron work and hanging baskets of greenery and spring flowers.
Striding along in the shade of the covered walkway Devon had been pleasantly surprised by not only the choice of shops but that their merchandise was in season and on trend. She’d thought the shoe shop had been her real find of the day. That was until she passed by the classiest boutique she ever seen outside of Paris.
The burnt orange dress on the one and only mannequin in the large arched front window immediately catching her eye. It was a gorgeous colour that would look great against her dark skin tone and the lines of the dress would call attention to her shapely legs and willowy build. The dress was perfect. Almost as if it had been made specifically with her in mind. She had to have it.
Entering the boutique was like coming home. Soft, barely audible jazz music played whilst the aroma of coconut, vanilla and blood orange wrapped around her senses. The hardwood floors were dark and bare, the ceilings high with decorative arches, supported by wrought iron columns. The walls were painted a pale coffee colour. In the very centre of the large cavernous boutique several King Louis armchairs and a matching taupe coloured lounging sofa were arranged around a low, shabby chic table.
“Hi.” A girl who’d been seated on one of the armchairs stood. “Welcome to Peu De Magi.”
Now Devon knew herself to be a beautiful woman but this chick could out exotic her any day of the week, with her mix of Asian and English rose features. She was quite simply stunning. Blunt cut black hair falling past her shoulders with a heavy fringe, her skin slightly tan, her cheeks graced with a natural pink colour, a smattering of freckles across her nose and stunning hazel eyes shot through with threads of bright green.
“Ur… yes. I wanted to try the dress in the window on. And have a look around.” There were only two long racks of clothes on display in the cavernous front room, making Devon think the designs here were seriously exclusive. She headed towards the nearest rack.
“Those aren’t for you.” The girl said this with a smile, so Devon didn’t immediately jump down her throat. “Your rack is waiting for you in the change room.” The girl pointed towards a large archway at the back of the room.
Devon hesitated, she really wanted to look at the clothes on the two large racks out here in the main room but if the girl meant there were more clothes to choose from out back, maybe she should just go with the flow for the moment.
“I’m Riya by the way. And you’re Devon, right?” Riya moved towards the front
window and the mannequin.
“Yes. I’m guessing you know Pollyanna?”
Riya looked back with a brief puzzled expression. “Oh, you mean Nell. Well, yes, we’re cousins. But I heard about you from Gigi, she heard it from her father, who heard it from Daphne, who I think got it from Kenneth, who might have heard it from Shelby but probably more likely heard it from Maureen.”
Devon’s eyes practically crossed. “Rivers and Lakes, this town! I don’t suppose you have any alcohol?”
Riya lifted the divine dress off the mannequin in one dramatic swirl, a grin gracing her gorgeous face. “Sure. I’ll crack the Croser, you get naked and play pretty woman.”
Ooh, Croser, her favourite Australian sparkling, was Riya joking? Still a little unsure of what was going on Devon made her way across the room, through the archway Riya had gestured to earlier and came to an abrupt halt. Oh my. She dropped her shopping bags. There, by a huge mirror, was a rack of clothes, the vibrant colours and tactile materials immediately making her fingers itch to touch and caress.
Riya appeared in the dressing room mirror behind her. “You like?” Her hazel green eyes full of amusement and knowing.
Devon was already kicking off her shoes and reaching for the first garment.
Riya laughed. “I’ll grab some glasses and the booze.”
Ah, happy days. Devon’s credit card was still recovering from the experience. But there wasn’t a purchase she’d made that day that she wasn’t completely in love with. If nothing else, this arroyo town had provided her with a whole new wardrobe.
Unconsciously, Devon caressed the fitted toreador high waisted black trousers she had chosen to wear today which made her legs look extra-long. It had been a no brainer to pair the trousers with the patent black boots and a gauzy gold blouse shot through with teal thread to bring out the green flecks in her brown eyes. Pity there wasn’t a man present to appreciate her efforts.
