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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 appreciating a fine example when it crossed her path was one thing; drawing attention to herself was another thing entirely.
As she rinsed out the wine glasses and got ready for bed she reflected on what she’d just agreed to. Juliet wanted to have fun; Maggie wanted to be happy.
She didn’t want to be lonely but she very much doubted that Ben McMahon held the key to her happiness. She shrugged her shoulders. She supposed she had nothing to lose by flirting a little. What was the worst that could happen?
Maggie hesitated over applying make-up the next morning as she got ready to take Juliet for her first post-op appointment with Dr McMahon. Ben.
She wasn’t as completely out of practice as Juliet might think. It had been years after Steven had died before she’d even contemplated dating but she had been on a few dates in the past five years. It was just that she hadn’t enjoyed them particularly. When that was the case she couldn’t see the point of continuing to date, of waiting to see if she ‘grew to like them’. She knew she wouldn’t, so while she had dated, it could certainly be said she hadn’t had a proper relationship since Steven had died.
She reminded herself that the aim of today wasn’t to get Ben to ask her out on a date; she just needed to make a little light conversation, just to show she was trying. She didn’t necessarily want to draw attention to herself but she decided a bit of make-up might help her feel more in control of the situation.
Her hand shook as she tried to apply her lipgloss. She was as nervous as she could ever remember being. All because she was supposed to flirt with a gorgeous man! She ignored the eyeshadow, thinking it would be overkill for a morning appointment, and just put some eye drops into her eyes to dull any traces of red. She brushed her dark hair until it shone and debated over whether to tie it up but in the end she left it down, falling over her shoulders. The brushstrokes were relaxing but she was still terrified she’d embarrass herself despite Juliet’s assurances that men would either be flattered by, or ignorant of, her methods.
Maybe if she failed spectacularly Juliet would let her off the hook. She thought she might prefer being lonely to being terrified.
But she needed to at least look as though she was trying. And she was still a woman—she still wanted to see if she could catch a man’s eye, even if she wasn’t quite sure what she wanted to do next. Everyone’s ego needed a boost now and then; she wasn’t really any different to the next person. She decided to make an effort.
She searched through her clothes looking for a bra that wasn’t more than three years old and that managed to lift her boobs back up to somewhere close to where they used to be. She pulled a dress out of the wardrobe, holding it in front of her—too fancy for a doctor’s appointment she decided. Jeans? Too casual. She swapped the jeans for a skirt that gave a little bit of shape to her boyish figure and put on a fitted T-shirt—white—to make it look as if her boobs were bigger than they really were. That looked better. Finally she was ready.
Maggie sat in the waiting room, convinced everyone could hear her heart hammering in her chest. She wiped her clammy hands on her skirt and looked for something to distract her.
‘What do you think of these?’
Maggie glanced at the photograph in the magazine her sister was holding.
‘Pamela Anderson! Is that what you chose?’ Maggie knew her younger sister had gotten the flamboyant gene whereas she’d inherited the conservative one but, even so, she hadn’t expected her to choose to be quite so out there. ‘You’re not serious! I thought you wanted to look like the old you?’
Juliet grinned at her. ‘You’re right, classy, not brassy. I picked out boobs that look more like Kate Winslet’s.’ Juliet turned back a page and showed Maggie another photo.
‘Huh!’
‘What?’ Juliet asked.
‘I didn’t realise when you said the “old you,” you really meant the “young you.” Kate’s boobs look like yours did in your teens, not what they looked like in your thirties after a couple of kids!’ Maggie couldn’t resist teasing her sister; some light-hearted banter was just what she needed to distract her from Juliet’s ‘mission.’
‘You think her boobs are too good for me?’
‘Not at all, it’s just that they’re not at all saggy.’
Juliet took the magazine back and had another look at the photo, her forehead creasing a little as she studied it. ‘Why is that, do you think? She’s had two kids as well.’ She paused, tilting her head slightly to one side. ‘Could be a flattering angle or a good bra.’
‘Or she could have had work done,’ Maggie said.
‘That does it, I’m definitely getting boobs like hers, then—particularly if they look natural and they’re not! Not much point in saggy new boobs.’
Maggie glanced down at her own chest. She’d never been more than a B-cup and she’d never considered being anything else—as long as everything worked, that was all that mattered, as far as she was concerned. But even though she wasn’t about to change her own body, which had served her well for forty-two years, she could see Juliet’s point. ‘I suppose, if you’re going to have a breast reconstruction, you might as well get what you want.’
‘My thoughts exactly.’ Juliet chuckled.
‘Come through, Juliet.’ Ben appeared in the waiting room and Maggie was surprised by the pull of attraction she felt. He was wearing a white shirt with no tie; his collar was open at his throat, and as Maggie stood she could see a smattering of dark hair below his collarbones. ‘You sound in good spirits.’
‘Just showing Maggie which boobs I’ve ordered.’ Juliet gestured towards her sister. ‘You remember Maggie, don’t you?’
‘Of course. Are you feeling the pressure of providing a second opinion?’ His eyes met hers, holding her attention. There was something in the way he looked at her that made her go weak at the knees. She got the feeling he could read her mind, could see into her soul. Her heartbeat increased its pace.
She couldn’t do this! She knew she’d get flustered and make a fool of herself. There was an energy that surrounded him, and she was much too attracted to him to flirt comfortably. In the two weeks since she’d seen him she’d forgotten just how good-looking he was.
But he was waiting for her response. She said the first thing that popped into her head. ‘Someone had to make sure Juliet didn’t end up looking like Pamela Anderson.’ She went for levity in her reply in an attempt to break the spell Ben seemed to have over her. If she could crack a joke maybe she’d be able to breathe again and maybe her heart would be able to return to its normal rhythm.
So far, so good. Her voice sounded normal, no squeaks or breathlessness.
He smiled. There was a definite sparkle in his eyes and that was all it took for her heart to start racing again. ‘That was an option?’ he asked as he led them through to his office.
She answered quickly while his back was turned, before he had another opportunity to throw her off kilter. ‘Not for long!’
‘Don’t tell fibs, Mags,’ Juliet said as she sat in one of the chairs in front of Ben’s desk and placed the magazine on the table, tapping a photograph. ‘I’d like to look like Kate Winslet, please.’
Ben picked up the magazine. ‘Kate Winslet? What do you think, Maggie?’ He lifted his gaze to hers, his blue eyes focusing on her and making her stomach somersault. If he kept looking at her like that she’d never be able to answer.
She tore her gaze away, concentrating on the photograph. ‘Far more suitable than Pamela,’ she replied.
‘Pamela might have been fun though,’ Juliet said.
‘I’m sure you’d find those boobs more annoying than fun after a while, not to mention the backache.’ That was better. She should concentrate on Juliet; she could talk to her like a normal person!
‘Oh, Mags, you’re such a sensible older sister.’
‘Be nice or I’ll get Ben to give you the saggy version of Kate.’
‘You wouldn’t dare!’
Maggie stuck out her tongue and Ben laughed. The sound washed over Maggie. She’d made him laugh and it was the nicest sound she’d heard in a long time. Deep and rich, he laughed like a man who enjoyed himself, like a man who laughed often and easily.
‘Sorry, girls, I’d prefer not to do saggy and I wouldn’t give Juliet “Pammy” breasts either. Neither option would be good for my reputation.’
Ben’s comment took Maggie by surprise. She thought all men would choose Pamela Anderson if they got the chance. And he looked as if he’d prefer American-type women. Blonde, blue-eyed, white teeth and big boobs—cheerleaders.
What was she doing? Why was she even considering what type of women he’d like? His taste in women was of no concern to her, although she’d bet his taste didn’t lean towards skinny, small-breasted, brunette Aussie women!
Stop it—who cares? she thought, knowing, even as she asked herself the question, that she did.
This flirting thing was going to end in disaster unless she got her hormones under control.
Ben was talking to Juliet now, the consultation under way, leaving Maggie time to settle her nerves. ‘A good C-cup will suit you perfectly Juliet, as we’ve discussed. That’s assuming the tissue expander stretches enough over the next few weeks to allow me to put C-cup implants in. Have you had any soreness or noticed any redness over the past few days?’
‘No, everything’s settled down well.’
‘Excellent. If you’re ready to get started I’ll get you to go behind the screen, slip your shirt off and lie down on the bed. There’s a sheet there to put over you.’
Juliet disappeared behind the privacy screen, and Ben went to the sink to wash his hands before pulling on a pair of disposable gloves.
Maggie could hear him explaining the process to Juliet as he worked. She listened to him while she studied his office.
‘Everything looks good. I’m planning to inject about ninety millilitres of saline into the tissue expander today if I can. Remember, the whole process will take six to eight weeks as each injection stretches the expander a little more until we can replace it with the implants. How many weeks exactly will depend on how easily your skin stretches.’
Maggie scanned the artwork on the walls. There had been a definite African theme to the pictures in the waiting room and that continued in Ben’s office where several stunning photographs were displayed on the walls. She told herself she was interested in the photos for art’s sake but she knew the truth. The truth was she was looking for clues about Ben, about his life outside of work. She was snooping. But the artwork told her nothing except that he seemed to have an interest in Africa.
‘I’ll do the left side first. It won’t hurt—there are no nerve endings so you won’t feel the saline going in. It goes straight into the expander through the skin valve. You might feel a little stretching but that should be about it.’
Maggie’s gaze travelled to the desk. There were a few pieces of African art—sculptures and the like on his desk and bookshelf—but no photos, particularly no photos that could be of a wife, or ex-wife, and children.
So Juliet was right…Ben was single?
‘OK, almost done. You might find it gets a little uncomfortable over the next twenty-four hours or so as the muscles stretch. Take some mild analgesics if you need to.’
Maggie heard Ben snap his gloves off and then he reappeared from behind the privacy screen.
‘Are you able to help Juliet for the next twenty-four hours, Maggie? I’d like her to avoid driving, heavy lifting and raising her arms above chest height for the next day, just to help prevent any additional soreness.’
‘Yes, I’m still staying at her house.’
‘Great,’ he said as Juliet joined them in front of the screen. ‘I’ll see you both next Friday, then?’
‘Definitely,’ Juliet said, jumping in before Maggie had a chance to reply.
Ben opened the door for them but didn’t follow them out.
‘There you go—that wasn’t so hard, was it?’ Juliet asked as they returned to the reception desk to confirm her remaining appointments. ‘And he sounds like he’s looking forward to seeing you next week too.’
‘I’m sure he’s just making polite conversation.’
‘Time will tell,’ Juliet said with a grin.
Maggie sensed she had more to add but fortunately they were now back in the waiting area and Juliet seemed to decide not to share her opinion with the rest of Ben’s patients, or his staff. But Juliet’s comment got Maggie thinking as she waited for the receptionist to confirm the next appointment—did she want Ben’s remark to be genuine? She was sure it had been said with sincerity—she didn’t doubt that—but did she want him to be looking forward to seeing her again specifically? That thought made her equally nervous and excited and she found herself replaying his words many times over the course of the evening before finally deciding it was what it was—a polite comment with no hidden agenda! As much as she hated to admit it, disappointment accompanied that realisation.
Chapter Three
IT WAS a busy Saturday morning in Hawthorn and Maggie was feeling a little frazzled after trying to find a car park around Glenferrie Oval, where vacant spots were as rare as the proverbial hen’s teeth.
‘OK, champ, let’s get in the line to hand in your registration,’ she said to Edward as they joined the queue stretching around the perimeter of the oval.
It was her nephew’s first football-coaching clinic and Maggie had offered to bring him as Juliet was still feeling tender and sore following the tissue expander procedure the day before.
There seemed to be hundreds of six-year-olds running amok all over the oval and dozens of footballs were whizzing through the air in all directions. The grass was a mass of brown and gold as most children were wearing miniature versions of the local football team’s tops.
‘Can you do it, Auntie Maggie? My friends are over there kicking the footy.’ Edward pointed across the oval and looked up at her with his best pleading expression.
What should she do? If it were her own child she’d say yes in a flash but Maggie didn’t know Edward’s friends and didn’t really know what today’s procedure was.
