by Maggie Brown
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Table of Contents
Cover
Synopsis
Title Page
Copyright Page
Other Books by Maggie Brown
Acknowledgments
Dedication
About the Author
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Bella Books
Synopsis
Studying the past hasn’t prepared Daisy Parker—anthropologist-turned-matchmaker—for her latest client. Finding Lindsey Jamieson-Ford a life partner isn’t exactly a simple exercise. Not only hasn’t Lindsey dated for years, the prickly reclusive scientist relates better with her robots than with people.
Lindsey has no idea what matchmaking involves when she hires Daisy. She’s never met anyone quite like the bubbly matchmaker and doesn’t know how she’s going to survive the infuriating woman. Now her life has lurched onto a roller coaster that just won’t damn well stop.
Guiding Lindsey through the courtship process is a challenge. Before the reticent scientist can move forward, Daisy has to teach her to leave the past behind. But another problem soon enters into the mix…How can Daisy stay detached when her body seems to be answering Lindsey’s mating call?
Copyright © 2019 by Maggie Brown
Bella Books, Inc.
P.O. Box 10543
Tallahassee, FL 32302
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, without permission in writing from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
First Bella Books Edition 2019
eBook released 2019
Editor: Cath Walker
Cover Designer: Judith Fellows
ISBN: 978-1-64247-035-2
PUBLISHER’S NOTE
The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
Other Bella Books by Maggie Brown
I Can’t Dance Alone
In the Company of Crocodiles
Mackenzie’s Beat
Piping Her Tune
Playing the Spy
The Flesh Trade
Acknowledgments
Thank you once again to Cath Walker for her editing skills. From the perspective of a seventh-time author, it is easy to track my growth as a writer. With each editing experience I learn something new about putting my thoughts on paper, as well as mastering the intricacies of the computer.
Many thanks to Bella Books for their continuing support in publishing my books.
In this novel I explore the idea that romantic attraction is in our genes. And as a backdrop for this love story, I set it in the emerging world of digital robotics. It is our future. Society and technology are advancing so rapidly that it is now logical to assume that one day robots will walk amongst us.
About the Author
Maggie Brown is a writer who thinks wit and humour go a long way. Is she intelligent, model-thin, mega-super-intelligent? Hell no!
She is an Australian alien life form, who drinks too much coffee, sits too long at the computer, and sometimes is a hot mess when struck down with writer’s block.
She hopes you enjoy her story.
Dedication
To my readers and family
Chapter One
Flowers—walks in the moonlight—chocolates.
Romance, in Daisy Parker’s opinion, was essential in every relationship. While passion fuelled love, romance sustained it. And like fine wine, true love became better as it aged.
Yesterday’s wedding had been the proof of the program, a real success story for their agency. Still revelling in her triumph, she entered the office with a little skip, brandishing the bouquet.
“You didn’t?” Allison Marsden said with a chuckle.
“Yep, caught it fair and square.”
“I presume they tied the knot without any hiccups,” Allison asked as she pushed over the box of chocolates.
“All done and dusted. Another satisfied customer,” replied Daisy contentedly, plucking a chocolate out of the pack. Lindt truffles were her favourites. “The ceremony was beautiful. The bride was gorgeous, and the groom looked like he couldn’t believe his luck.”
“So he should. This was one of your greatest achievements.”
“You’re not wrong.” Daisy chewed happily, remembering the work she’d put into getting them together. It had seemed an impossible task at first to match her client with the woman of his dreams, for although he was kind and considerate he was hardly an oil painting. The bride on the other hand, was vivacious and quite stunning. Daisy had known all along that they were suited, maybe an odd match for some but well-fitted in her book. Their genes merged perfectly. It was simply a matter of giving them the opportunity to get to know each other.
“This will make you smile a great deal wider,” said Allison as she handed her a folder. “We’ve hit pay dirt.”
“Really? It’s someone important?”
“Very. We’ve moved into the big time.”
“O-kayyy…you’ve got me curious,” said Daisy. She resisted the urge to peek. Still on a high, she wanted to savour the moment. “I’ll read this while you’re at the coffee shop and we’ll discuss it when you get back.”
She fondly watched her office manager disappear. Since the business was running so smoothly, she’d offered her a partnership six months ago. The success of the venture was as much due to Allison’s hard work as hers. Three years ago, Daisy had left university with a master’s degree in anthropology, keen to launch into her working career. What to do, though, had proved a problem. Tired of the tedious world of academia, a career in research or teaching hadn’t appealed, thus narrowing her options. But one thing she had known—it was ti
me to start earning some real money. She was sick of trying to stretch the budget.
Over the Christmas break, she’d mulled over the dilemma. Then during a night out with friends on New Year’s Eve, she was idly watching people flirt when the idea struck. Human mating customs were so haphazard, much like a lucky dip. Singles flocked to bars to meet that someone special—God knows how many times she’d done that herself—but alcohol, while it stoked the libido, did little for true love. Only about half of those who left together would go on a date—the rest would go home, maybe have sex, and then move on. Few were likely to partner-up for life.
Online dating services had a better average, though were hit-and-miss to a degree: people could cheat the system with false information and airbrushed photographs. But what if, she reasoned, the guesswork could be taken out of the equation? Real matchmaking should go further, be more target-specific. The process should have at least a seventy to eighty percent chance of success within a year, with the likelihood that she could find everyone’s perfect match eventually. To achieve this, a hands-on service could be offered that included tuition as well as a personalized introduction.
And who better qualified to do this than she was, having majored in human behaviour and sexual attraction of the species. It was all a matter of science; genetics played a huge role in mate selection. Some seemingly unusual combinations made very successful marriages: the tall mom with the short dad, the Barbie-doll princess with the football fanatic, the basketball star with the science nerd.
Contrary to common belief, romantic love was the most powerful of all human experiences, more compelling than the sex drive. She figured if she went about it scientifically, it shouldn’t be too hard to get couples together. Proper grooming could be taught. Courtship followed distinct patterns that were easy enough to emulate: eye contact, smiling, preening, body movements and so on.
The more she thought about it, the more enthusiastic she became. A week later, she took the plunge, rented office space and advertised for a personal assistant. Her father, Richard, had huffed and puffed about throwing away her education. A woman with a post-graduate degree shouldn’t discard it on a whim to be a common matchmaker. The more he puffed, the deeper she dug her toes in. Her mother, Sheila, had simply laughed, claiming that as an anthropologist she would have more fun working with the living than with the dead.
Daisy had been relieved when her mother gave her support. Her approval meant a great deal. They were the best of friends and although there was twenty-eight years’ difference in their ages, they were sometimes mistaken for sisters. Both a tad under average height, Daisy had inherited her mother’s perky upturned nose, soft fair complexion, and grey-blue eyes. Their chestnut hair was the same vibrant colour, though hers was harder to keep tamed than Sheila’s which naturally sat in soft orderly waves. Daisy had been flattered when someone remarked she looked like Emma Stone, an actor she thought awesome. Though she secretly thought she looked more like an older version of Little Orphan Annie. Curly hair and a sprinkling of freckles didn’t do much for sophistication.
Thankfully, her father eventually gave up his opposition in the face of their combined disapproval and the Marigold Matchmaking Agency was formed. An incurable romantic and movie buff, Daisy thought it only fitting to name her venture after one of her favourite films, The Exotic Marigold Hotel.
Allison had been one of twenty applicants to answer her ad and proved a real find. Her efficiency and financial nous made Daisy’s transition to business proprietor virtually worry-free. They had worked as an effective team over the following three years. As paperwork was a matter of constant annoyance, she left that part in Allison’s capable hands, while dealing with clients was Daisy’s forte. She loved interacting with people.
Once their office was set up, it had been only a matter of a few strategically placed notices on social media and a trickle of people began to appear. It hadn’t taken long to build up a client base. All ages and from a wide range of lifestyles, men and women sought her help: unmarried, divorced, single parents and bereaved. Some had either abandoned the nightclub scene, some were too busy with their career, and others just sick of dud dates. Most had tried Internet dating with little success. But all sought a stable happy relationship.
She gave each her personal attention, which meant as the firm’s popularity grew the demands on her time increased. The Marigold Matchmaking Agency soon achieved a stellar reputation, due partly to their efforts and partly to the fact that they strictly vetted their clients before accepting them. Each applicant had to have a genuine wish to find a life partner. They weren’t a shagging service.
Chapter Two
The name on the top of the front page of the folder commanded Daisy’s attention immediately: Lindsey Jamieson-Ford. She swung back in the chair, her mind racing. All righty—Allie hadn’t exaggerated. This was big! But what would the principal of LJF Robotics want with a matchmaker? Anyone so wealthy could have her pick. Curious, she read on. The woman was quite serious, she wanted to get married and was prepared to pay very well for the agency to match her up with a suitable spouse.
The figure she quoted caused Daisy to let out a sharp whistle. It was as much as their agency had earned in the last two months and they weren’t cheap. Their clients mostly came from professional ranks. The letter from Lindsey was terse and to the point. She asked to be their client, proposed what she was prepared to pay and requested a meeting the following Tuesday morning at nine at her home.
Daisy flipped through the data Allison had added. LJF Robotics had been a subsidiary of the giant Engineering and Electronics Corporation owned by her father, Warren Jamieson-Ford, until LJF began to make money in its own right. Then Lindsey went out on her own, making a name for her company by bringing prosthetics into the digital age. It was also rumoured that they were nearly to the production stage of an advanced humanoid robot.
Information about Lindsey herself was thin on the ground. From all accounts, she worked mostly in a laboratory at her home and rarely ventured outside the grounds. She was, to all intents and purposes, a recluse. Daisy reserved her opinion on that one. The woman could be going out in disguise—not all well-known people sought the limelight. A photograph was enclosed in the file, a snapshot of Lindsey with her father at the opening of an engineering plant in January three years ago. She looked pleasant enough but needed to upgrade her wardrobe. Her drab suit screamed dowdy. And who wore long sleeves in summer?
Allison entered with two cups and a box balanced on a tray. “A cappuccino and scrumptious strawberry cheesecake.”
“Good-oh,” said Daisy. She hastily cleared a space on her desk before she looked up with a smile. Allison was not only an efficient administrator, but also a good friend. She was as much a romantic sucker as Daisy, convinced everyone had a soulmate somewhere. A practical woman with a warm loving nature, she was happily raising her two teenage daughters with her husband Noel, in a quiet leafy suburb. Because her attractive mature features radiated competency and trust, Daisy had persuaded her to be the public face of their agency in their advertising promotions.
“What do you think about Lindsey?” asked Daisy, keen to hear her opinion. Allison had a good eye for detail.
“I’ve no idea. There’s very little about her on the Internet. She’s extremely private, no profile on social media. The only new information I managed to dig up, she was involved in a motorbike accident when she was twenty-one. But the extent of her injuries was hushed up.”
“No ex-boyfriend?”
“There was one photo in a magazine with a young guy at her twenty-first birthday party. Nothing anywhere since.” Allison gave a shrug and added, “The woman is very good at hiding her private life.”
“Who was he?”
“A law student—Martin James Hickman. His father’s a judge.”
“What happened to him?”
“He moved to London and married over there six years ago. He’s back in Australia, now an associate with his f
ather’s old law firm.”
Daisy idly brushed crumbs off her shirt as she tried to get her head around the information. “She’s in her mid-thirties. Surely she must have had somebody since then.”
“Believe me, I’ve searched. I even rang a solicitor friend who had business dealings with her. Apparently, she doesn’t date.”
“Damn,” muttered Daisy. “I hate going blind into an interview. I don’t even know what type of man she’s attracted to.”
“Maybe she has someone in mind and wants our help to get him.”
“It’ll make it a lot easier if she has. Just so long as they’re compatible.”
“Are you going to her place as she requested?”
“I guess I’ll have to if I want the business.” Daisy was normally strict about meeting at private residences, a lesson she’d learned the hard way early in the piece. A middle-aged, obnoxious client had become obsessed with her and cornered her in his lounge with a passionate marriage proposal. It had taken her over an hour of cajoling to persuade him to let her out of the house. Even though she had laughed it off, the stress of the experience had lingered for months. She vowed never to put herself into that position again. They had a strict policy now that all appointments were to be held at her office.
“I agree,” said Allison. “For the money she’s offering, we should waive that policy. I’ve received three more applications this week. What do you want done with them?”
“Put them on hold until I meet with Lindsey. We’ll know then how much time I’ll need to spend with her.”
“Okay,” Allison replied, then continued in a motherly tone. “You know, it’s about time you started to look after your own love life. When was the last time you had a date?”
Daisy gave a shrug. “Jonathon and I went to the Adele concert last week.”
