and she didn’t want to spoil any part of her younger sister’s birthday. Livvy had always been a pet, her naturally happy nature making her a pleasure to be with. Their parents were away on an overseas trip, touring Canada this time, so it was up to Catherine to make up for their not being here, showering love on their younger daughter. She thought she’d done enough but…would it really hurt to make the effort of being pleasant to a stranger tonight?
‘It would be such fun, dressing up together,’ Livvy pressed.
‘I didn’t bring dress-up clothes with me,’ Catherine remembered, not so much seeking an excuse but simply stating the truth.
‘You can try mine on.’ The eager offer was rushed out. ‘In fact, I’ve got a little black number that would look fantastic on you. It’s a jersey so it doesn’t matter you’re more curvy than me. It will stretch to fit.’
More curvy and taller. And their taste in clothes was different. Which was why they’d never swapped or borrowed. But what she wore tonight was not an issue, Catherine decided, as long as she pleased Livvy.
Twenty-nine today. Her little sister…who had her life more in order than Catherine had managed in her thirty-one years. Still, Livvy’s career in the public service carried minimal stress and steady promotion, given a reasonable level of performance. The advertising world was far more cut-throat and Catherine spent most of her working days living on the edge.
Different lives, different needs, different natures, different…even in looks.
Livvy’s hair had been very blond in her childhood and she’d kept it blond with the help of a good hair-dresser. She kept it short, too, its thick waves cleverly cut and styled to ripple attractively to just below her ears. Having inherited their father’s Nordic blue eyes and skin that tanned to a lovely golden honey, she always looked sunny and vibrantly alive.
Dark and intense were the words more often attached to Catherine. Her hair was a very deep rich brown, as wavy as Livvy’s but worn long. There never seemed to be time in her life for regular hair-dresser appointments. Currently it fell to below her shoulder-blades. Luckily she only had to wash it for it to look reasonably good.
Her eyes were more amber than brown, like their mother’s, but her eyebrows and lashes were almost black, giving them a dark look. The only feature she’d inherited from their father was height. She was a head taller than Livvy who had his colouring but their mother’s more petite figure.
Different to each other but family nonetheless.
Close family.
And Catherine liked to see Livvy happy.
‘Okay, I’ll go with you. But I’m taking my own car so if Pete’s friend is a total disaster I can come home by myself whenever I like.’
Sheer delight lit up Livvy’s pretty face.
Yes, it was worth the effort, Catherine thought, and resigned herself to sharing an evening with a man who would probably bore her to death.
A blind date…
She looked down at the little black and white fox terrier, sleeping blissfully at Livvy’s feet. He’d been called Luther after Martin Luther King who’d done all he could to integrate the black and white races in America.
Bringing people together.
Catherine smiled at the dog who’d certainly brought her sister and Pete together. Maybe she needed a dog in her life. It was surely a better means of meeting men than Livvy’s current plot. Bound to provide more lasting and devoted company, too. A steadfast, uncomplicated love.
Yes.
She’d give up Stuart and buy herself a dog.
A much better solution to her problems than a blind date.
CHAPTER TWO
PETE insisted they set off at a quarter to eight, even though it was barely a ten-minute drive around the coast to the beach town of Terrigal where they were dining in style tonight. Livvy and Catherine were to meet them at the restaurant at eight, which probably meant anything up to an hour later. Zack had little faith in female punctuality, particularly with social evenings. Still, the less time he had to spend with his blind date, the better.
Terrigal was a prettier beach than Forresters with its row of Norfolk Pines lining the foreshore, but it was tame in comparison with none of the wild, dangerous surf that stirred the sense of primitive elements at play. This was a highly civilised beach; calm water, smooth sand, edged by lawns, a large resort hotel and many fashionable boutiques and restaurants. A yuppie place, not a getaway, Zack thought, glad that Pete had chosen to buy a house on an untamed shoreline.
The restaurant they were heading for was called The Galley, built above the sailing club on the other side of town and facing towards the Haven, a sheltered little bay where yachts rode at anchor. The main street traffic was heavy and slow. By the time they got through it and reached the parking area adjacent to The Galley, it was precisely eight o’clock.
Drinks at the bar coming up, Zack anticipated. He watched a zippy red convertible coming down the incline to the car park as Pete was collecting a celebratory bottle of Dom Perignon from the back seat of his beloved BMW. Had to be a Mazda MX-5, Zack decided, and was surprised to see two women occupying the open front seats. It was the kind of car guys would cruise in. Women were always worried about their hairstyles being blown awry.
‘Told you they’d be on time,’ Pete crowed, nodding to the car Zack was watching. ‘That’s Catherine driving.’
A long-haired brunette. The blonde in the passenger seat had to be Livvy. ‘Is it her car?’ he asked, finding himself interested by the unexpected.
‘Yes. Livvy calls it Catherine’s rebellion.’
‘Against what?’
Pete shrugged. ‘Being a woman, I guess.’
Zack rolled his eyes at him. ‘You mean I’m about to be faced with a raging feminist.’
The answering grin was unrepentant. ‘More a femme fatale. Just watch your knees. They might buckle any minute now.’
Not a chance, Zack thought.
She parked the convertible right at the end of the row of cars, the furthest point away from the entrance to the restaurant. Ensuring it wouldn’t get boxed in, Zack decided, in case she wanted an easy getaway.
Which makes two of us, darling.
He and Pete waited at the BMW for the two women to join them. The black roof of the red convertible lifted from its slot at the back of the car and was locked in at the front. The blonde emerged first, waving excitedly at Pete. She looked very cute, wearing a clingy blue dress with shoestring shoulder straps. A pocket Venus for Pete, Zack thought, smiling at his choice.
Well, Catherine, strut your stuff, he silently challenged as a long rippling mane of very lustrous brown hair rose from the driver’s side, the kind of hair that would look good on a pillow, Feel good, too. A tingle of temptation touched his fingertips. He clenched his hands to wipe it away. This was not the time to let a woman get to him. So she had great hair. The workings of the brain under it probably had no appeal at all.
She
