Dating Daisy

By Joanne Hill

Daisy Miller needs to save her book shop from going under, and she needs a plan fast. Her solution? Try out for TV's new Mystery Date show to get some free promotion. She just hadn't counted on winning a "date" with hot historian, Dr Joel Benjamin - or that Joel would be the tubby teen she'd commiserated with years ago after a blind date gone wrong.

Joel has put those painful teenage years behind him, throwing himself into his work, where he isn't judged by his looks. But meeting Daisy Miller is about to change his life in ways he never thought possible. But will Daisy ever believe that Joel can really, truly love her, when she's spent a lifetime feeling second best?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Joanne Hill
• Release date: May 30, 2015
• ISBN: 9780994116611

Joanne Hill

Joanne writes contemporary romance novels, often with a rom-com twist. She researched category romance from a Readers Advisory perspective for her masters degree, and has presented a paper on the research at the Library Association conference. She lives in New Zealand. For more information, visit www.joannehill.com.

Book preview

DATING DAISY

By Joanne Hill

(c) 2014 Joanne Hill

Smashwords Edition ISBN 9780994116611

All rights reserved.

This is a work of fiction. Liberties may have been taken with some details.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without written consent of the author, although short excerpts may be used for reviews.

"There are three things that amaze me—

no, four things that I don’t understand:

how an eagle glides through the sky,

how a snake slithers on a rock,

how a ship navigates the ocean,

how a man loves a woman."

Proverbs 30:18-19 New Living Translation

CONTENTS

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

EPILOGUE

NOTE FOR READER

PROMISING PENNY EXCERPT

CHAPTER ONE

Daisy Miller had never stepped foot in a university lecture theatre in her life but she was beginning to think there was something quite thrilling about it. She shivered as she glanced around. There was an air of anticipation about the upcoming lecture on Roman history, of excitement even. Of something else that skittered up her spine.

The lecture hall was filling up fast, so fast the only remaining seats were up in the back row, yet people were still pouring in and finding gaps in the aisles where they sat on folded-up raincoats and bags.

Alongside her, Michelle pulled a book out from her shoulder bag and began reading.

Daisy glanced again around the lecture theatre. Although — something seemed a little out of place, and she couldn’t put her finger on it. She looked at the women to her right. To the women in the rows in front of her. Shot a discreet look at the women behind.

That was it. She elbowed Michelle.

Ouch. Michelle fake-rubbed her side. What is it?

Do you realize there are hardly any men in here? The women outnumber the men by— She spotted some male faces. Ten to one. How weird is that?

Michelle glanced up briefly. It’s not weird. History is dull. When I was at school only girls took it. She looked back down at the book, her head nodded in agreement and she reverently turned a page.

Daisy scrutinized the flyer in her own hand. It showed images of Hadrian’s Wall, the Roman Circus, and a gladiator. She had no great interest in things Roman but this public lecture had seemed like something to do. Kate, one of her few loyal customers at Poppy’s books, had thrown a couple of flyers at her and mentioned the lecturer was her brother, back in Auckland from a year's sabbatical in France. Daisy had almost thrown them away until she’d flicked through the pile of envelopes on her table, with bills from the power company, the insurance company, the water company, and thought ‘what the heck’. This lecture was free, and if they were using Russell Crowe on the advertising then they were clearly marketing it as some sort of entertainment. Free entertainment was pretty good right about now. And the picture of Russell Crowe on the front — although it was blurry — well, she'd never admit it in public but it was enticing.

Daisy glanced again at the book Michelle was reading but it wasn't familiar. Did you get that from my shop?

Good grief, no. Michelle gently closed the book. The white satin-shiny slipcover was decorated with mauve flowers. This is ‘The A to Z of Guys and Girls’. It was all over social media. I ordered it on-line but you can get it in e-book, too.

Daisy raised her eyebrows. How can an intelligent woman like you get sucked in by this rubbish? It's self-help psychobabble.

Whoa there, girl. Michelle held up a hand in a Stop gesture. I’m in no position to call anything that gives me an edge, ‘psychobabble’. She cast an unrepentant look around the lecture theatre. And I’ll tell you something else. Reading this book beats what’s ahead of me here any day. I regret I agreed to come along to hear this dreary professor go on about togas and chariots and... She waved her hands around. "All that ancient history. It’s my future I’m trying to get a handle on here, not someone else’s past, and certainly not from some ageing professor."

He not old. Kate’s not even forty, and he's her younger brother. Daisy glanced again at the flyer. Dr Joel Benjamin had a Ph.D. from Yale, was published in prestigious journals, had overseen an archaeological project in Italy, and during his year in France did a stint advising on the film being touted as the new-but-historically-accurate Gladiator.

He was currently editing a book: Tarquinius Superbus to Cato the Elder: Revisionist Heresy.’

Holy crap, Michelle suddenly exclaimed.

What? Daisy looked around them. What happened? What is it?

Michelle gestured weakly to the front of the theatre. "That."

Daisy followed her gaze over the heads of the women — and the occasional man — and it landed on—

She pressed her lips together tight to stop her mouth falling open. This was… He was…

Michelle snapped, "You didn't tell me the guy looks like that."

Daisy stared, unable to look anywhere else. She let out a long breath. So this is what that air of anticipation had been about.

I didn’t know. It never occurred to me. Her throat nearly seized up. How could I have known that he was so… That he looked so...

She turned to Michelle. "How is that even possible when his sister is Kate?" She felt guilty thinking that — let alone saying it. Kate was tough. Tough in looks and tough on the courtroom floor. That her brother had not inherited some of her — pronounced features — was surely some freak of nature.

Daisy glanced back down at the leaflet. She stared at the picture and realized it wasn't a younger Russell Crowe on the cover at all.

It was him. It was Kate’s brother.

Michelle reached for her bag, swiftly pulled out a small mirror, and flipped it open as Dr Joel Benjamin took a stack of notes from his briefcase, ran his hand through his brown hair, and glanced absently towards the back of the room. His gaze flickered briefly beyond them before he turned back to his notes.

Michelle quickly re-did her mascara. Is he married? I can’t see his hands from here.

He’s single. Daisy swallowed down hard. But he is just out of a relationship. He was advising on some big movie being shot in Paris and he was dating the lead actress. Kate reckoned it was doomed from the start because he's in love with his job and there's no way any woman is going to change that.

Down at the podium Joel Benjamin glanced at his notes, checked his wristwatch, then cleared his throat.

As he bent his head to the microphone, the hum of chatter abruptly — almost magically — ceased.

Good evening, he said. His voice was deep with a rough edge that made Daisy shiver. Good heavens — he could take the lead in a movie himself.

His voice, Michelle moaned breathlessly. Sweet mother in heaven, his voice.

Daisy remembered her notebook, flipped it open and wrote in bold letters, ‘Ancient Rome’. She flexed her fingers but they were trembling. She didn’t blame them.

Not when Joel Benjamin possessed not only a God’s-gift-to-breathing-women voice but, judging by the breadth of that leather jacket, rock-solid shoulders. And he was tall, and that stubble which on any other man might look deliberately groomed to be bad-boy was, she suspected, entirely accidental.

You have to go and talk to him after the lecture and see what he’s like, Michelle whispered. Introduce yourself.

Daisy almost shuddered at the thought. I don't think so.

Go on. You know his sister. Introduce yourself.

She could think of nothing more embarrassing. Like heck I'm going to do that and will you be quiet? You might just learn something.

About what?

About Rome. Daisy glanced curiously at her. Aren’t you taking notes? I’ve got a spare pen.

No point. Michelle sat back and stared unblinkingly down towards the front of the theatre. Not when I haven’t got a hope of ever concentrating.

***

The lecture lasted an hour but the time flew by. Dr Joel Benjamin was one amazing speaker.

Amidst the buzz of chatter and movement as women rose to their feet, Daisy stretched her arms on a groan of contentment. He had taken them back in time to hold them enthralled by every syllable he'd uttered from his beautiful mouth, and she was surprised — actually, she was downright shocked — at how much she'd enjoyed the lecture. At how much it had made sense. He planned to give two more free lectures over the term and free was never to be sniffed at the way things were going with her bank account.

The way things were going with her shop.

Michelle nudged her. Go down and see him. Say ‘hello’. You can introduce me.

Daisy narrowed her gaze down to where a crowd was beginning to gather.

There's no point. I’m just the woman who sells books to his sister. She pocketed her notebook, grabbed her coat, zipped up her tote, and when she stood up she glanced around. Women were still making their way down to the front — lots and lots of women. Like teenyboppers to a pop star. She hauled her bag over her shoulder and shot what she could see of Dr Joel Benjamin’s hair a regretful glance.

Let’s go, said Michelle breathlessly.

Have you taken your eyes off the man for even a second to check out that crowd? This is worse than when I spent half a day in line to get Kenny Roger's autograph for my gran.

You were twelve.

And I'll feel twelve losing my dignity with that lot. Anyway, you never know. Kate might bring him by the shop some time and then we can see him up close.

Michelle stabbed the air with her finger. Have you been inhaling your body spray? What on earth makes you think for a second, that a guy like that would want to fight it out between the Zimmer frames and walking sticks at your shop? Get real, Daisy. We’re losing us a little dignity and, she added in a don’t-mess-with-me voice, we’re damn well going in. Follow me, stay close, and under no circumstances are you to diverge from the plan.

There's a plan?

Just follow me.

Against her better judgement Daisy followed and smartly realized that ‘going in’ had been no exaggeration. They were soon engulfed in a thick and sultry cesspit of seething female sexuality. A hint of Chanel here, a dash of Dior there. The only scent she’d applied was her imitation musk underarm. The women brushing past her reeked of six-figure incomes, post-graduate degrees, and a complete lack of self-esteem issues. They were women who didn’t hold back in going after what they wanted and, from the calculated way they were milling around Dr Benjamin, they wanted him.

Having never had the problem of too much self-esteem, a university education, and a healthy bank account, Daisy grabbed Michelle’s arm. This is ridiculous. There’s no point hanging around here. Let’s—

Thank you for coming, she heard him say to a woman in front of her. The woman, well into middle-age, gazed star-struck as he shook her hand and signed a book.

Thank you, he said to a woman’s gushing admission she’d loved his lecture.

Thank you for coming, he said above Daisy’s head, and Daisy looked behind to see who he was thanking.

"It’s you," Michelle nudged.

Daisy turned to find his hand outstretched.

She stared at his long fingers and his tanned hands. They didn’t look like academic hands. She’d met a professor in a cafe once, and his hands had been white and freckly. Joel’s were strong and masculine.

She grunted as Michelle jabbed her in the back.

She took his hand.

He said, Hello. Blue-grey eyes looked down at her. Her gaze slipped to his mouth. A full bottom lip. A beautifully curved top lip. The lips moved. You enjoyed the lecture?

Hi. Yes, I–

Dr Benjamin? A 30-something, suit-attired professional suffering a heady perfume overdose, lay her manicured hand on the black leather sleeve of his jacket. Could you clarify some of the issues you raised over the Greek influence on art in early Rome?

His jaw tensed a fraction. My advice is to read the book I mentioned in the hand-out. The university bookshop has copies in stock.

Dr Benjamin? Could I take you for a drink afterwards so we could talk more? another asked.

I'm sorry, he apologized smoothly. I'm meeting an old friend.

More women approached and one of them tried to edge Daisy out of the way with an exceptionally bony hip. As she did, panic unexpectedly slammed in Daisy's chest. The nerve of that woman barging in when Joel Benjamin been talking to her. Not to them, but to her. She needed him back, she needed an ‘in’, she needed an edge, she needed to take a risk in her tame and ordinary life, she needed—

I know your sister, she yelled before she could stop herself.

His gaze zeroed in on her, settled there. It was intimidating. She wished she’d just kept quiet, and wished she could ignore the trickle of awareness itching up her spine.

But it was too late now.

He said, What did you say?

That I know your sister. Kate. She felt stupid.

Funny how that made her think of her ex-husband.

Joel watched intently. Do I know you?

She shook her head. No. But Kate's one of the customers at my shop.

A dubious smile graced his face. Ah. You’ll be the one Kate told me she was giving the leaflet to. The one who needs to get out.

Mortification blushed Daisy's face scarlet. "She actually told you that?"

Holy crap, Michelle muttered.

She says that about me so I wouldn’t get— He visually raked her face up and down, his gaze settling on her burning cheeks. Embarrassed by it. You’re the book shop girl, right? He amended, Woman.

Girl is fine, Michelle interjected. We’re not that evolved we object to you calling us ‘girls’. She stuck her hand out. "I’m Michelle Bird. Daisy’s assistant and her very, very, very best friend."

Joel took Michelle's hand briefly, smiled, then looked back at Daisy. Kate’s mentioned your shop a few times. He was thoughtful a second. In fact, I was thinking that considering she's taking leave from work soon to concentrate on this whole baby thing, I might get her some books.

She has quite specific reading tastes, Daisy told him.

I wasn't thinking of fiction. More like— He shrugged. Things to do with — babies. Like cooking and sewing and -— home type stuff. You’ve got a shop called Pansy’s, right?

Poppy’s, Daisy corrected, as Michelle cut in, When? What time?

Shop hours, Daisy said above the sudden, erratic pounding in her chest, are Monday to Friday, nine to six. And I’m open Saturdays from ten to four.

I'll remember that, he said, and a moment later a woman thrust her arm around his and breathed her pleasure at his lecture.

Within seconds he was swamped, and Daisy and Michelle found themselves on the edge of the crowd.

Wow, Daisy said. Wow at Joel, and wow at the affect he was having on these women.

Michelle shook her head wearily. Do you see those women, Daisy?

It’s hard to miss them. It would take a year before the scent of perfume was free of her nasal passages.

They're ticking clockers, Michelle announced. "Women who have given up love to