‘Thought so,’ Juliet responded, interpreting her silence. ‘And when was the last time you had sex?’
‘I don’t remember.’
Juliet threw her hands up into the air, almost spilling her wine in the process. ‘That’s my point exactly—you should remember. It should have been recent and it should have been fantastic. You need to get out more.’
Maggie twirled her wine glass in her hands. ‘Do you want to know why I don’t date? For the first twelve months after Steven died no one knew what to do with me. I didn’t get invited anywhere. Everyone assumed I needed time to deal with my grief but what they didn’t realize was that the lack of invitations meant I had more time than I knew what to do with, more time to think about what I’d lost. When I finally got invited out again I got the feeling that half the women thought I’d be after their husbands. It made me uncomfortable. It was easier not to go to some things.’
‘Don’t you meet people at work?’
‘I don’t want to date people from work,’ Maggie replied. ‘It’s too complicated.’
‘What about people you meet through work?’
‘Like who? Patients?’ She laughed. ‘I work in Theatre, remember? I only see patients for a few minutes before they go under anaesthetic and then they’re off to Recovery before they really wake up. Not much opportunity to start chatting, other than telling them to count backwards from twenty!’ Maggie shook her head. ‘I’m not against the idea of romance or even a simple roll in the hay but in my opinion dating takes too much effort. A hobby would be much easier.’
‘Back to that!’ Juliet sighed. ‘You know you don’t necessarily have to date if all you want is a bit of romp.’
But that wasn’t really how Maggie operated. She knew she was someone who wanted the whole experience—attraction, romance, a strong connection both emotionally and physically. That was exactly why she was still on her own, why she didn’t often go on third dates. She was still waiting for the perfect man to sweep her off her feet, just as Steven had done more than twenty years ago. But was Juliet right? Was she being too fussy? Was she looking at spending the next forty years alone?
Working and being a sole parent for the past ten years had drained her, but when she thought of Juliet’s life hers seemed blessed in comparison. Juliet had been through a divorce, a malignant breast lump, chemotherapy, a double mastectomy and then a near-death experience. Just one of those things would be more than most people could cope with, Maggie thought, let alone all of them.
‘You deserve to have some fun after the past two years you’ve had,’ she said to Juliet.
‘What about you? Don’t you want to have fun?’
‘I’m happy as I am.’ Was that true? What was her definition of happy? Her own children made her happy—most of the time, she thought with a smile. Her extended family. Her work. But was that enough?
‘Don’t you think you could be happier?’ Juliet wanted to know.
Maggie shrugged. She wasn’t sure this was a conversation she wanted to have.
But Juliet wasn’t finished yet. ‘I have a suggestion for you. I know you’ve come to Melbourne to help me but you don’t need to stay home twenty-four hours a day on my account. If I can introduce you to some decent single men, would you go out on a date?’
‘Why?’
‘Because you might have fun! I’m not ready to get out and about yet but that doesn’t mean we both have to sit at home. I’m quite happy to live vicariously through you for the time being. Nobody in Melbourne knows you and your story—it’s a good chance to relax and enjoy yourself.’
‘Who are these single men you have in mind?’ Maggie wasn’t about to agree to Juliet’s plans without more information.
‘You can choose.’
‘Me?’
Juliet nodded. ‘I know a few single men. Besides, I have an ulterior motive. If I can find you someone perfect you might end up staying in Melbourne, close to me,’ she said with a grin.
‘Why am I not surprised?’ Maggie said. ‘There’s always a grand plan with you!’
‘Tell me your idea of a perfect man and I’ll see what I can do,’ Juliet prompted.
Maggie decided she really didn’t have anything to lose by agreeing to Juliet’s plan. If nothing else, it would keep Juliet off her back, and Maggie had learned a long time ago that letting Juliet think she was winning a battle was one way of ensuring a quiet life. So what would her perfect man look like these days?
Tall and solid, but fit rather than fat. A protector. Someone dependable. Dark hair. Blue eyes. Turquoise blue. An image of Ben McMahon flashed before Maggie’s eyes. Tall, dark, gorgeous and obviously intelligent—was it any surprise he sprang to mind?
‘Who is it?’ Juliet badgered. ‘You must have someone in mind—you’re daydreaming.’
‘I don’t know if he’s perfect—he seems too good to be true.’
‘Sounds interesting. Who?’
‘Ben McMahon.’
‘Mmm. Good choice. He’s pretty close to perfect. Smart, sexy and single.’
‘Single?’ She hadn’t actually expected him to be single. ‘So that’s what’s wrong with him.’ Maggie sighed.
‘What?’
‘He’s gay.’
Juliet laughed. ‘Not as far as I know but why don’t you test that theory?’
‘How?’
‘Ask him out.’
‘Hang on a minute—I thought you were finding me a date.’
‘He wasn’t on my list,’ Juliet argued, ‘but I’m sure we can work something out. Why don’t you try flirting with him at my appointment tomorrow, then we’ll find out if he’s interested.’
Maggie got embarrassed at the thought of flirting with Ben. She couldn’t possibly do it for real without making a complete spectacle of herself, could she?
‘Are you sure he’s not married?’ she clarified. That would be too humiliating and just her luck.
‘Trust me, he’s single and he’s straight.’
‘How do you know?’
‘He’s always in the social pages—his family is Melbourne high society—and he’s always with a different woman in every photo. I’m sure that’s not just camouflage, and if he had a wife I’m certain she wouldn’t be putting up with that!’
‘What do you mean, ‘high society’?’ Maggie’s curiosity was piqued.
‘His father’s family owns a publishing company and his mother runs the McMahon Foundation. Even in Sydney you would have heard of them, surely?’
‘He’s one of those McMahons?’
Juliet nodded and Maggie felt sick at the thought of trying to have a normal conversation with Ben now, let alone flirt with the man. He would have women throwing themselves at him at every opportunity, and she didn’t want to put herself in that same category. ‘I don’t know. He’s way out of my league.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous, you need to stop thinking like that right now. You’re good enough for anyone. Besides, I’m only asking you to flirt with the guy—he doesn’t need to propose.’
But