Over cheese muffins and coffee, Dan filled Lucy in on what he’d discovered about the snake trying to change the heart of MacLeod’s Cove. He was about to leave the café when he glanced out the window — and, for the first time in forever, couldn’t look away.
Walking across the street towards the café was the most striking woman he’d ever seen. Not that he could really see her. She appeared almost unearthly, the way the sun at that hour of the morning shone directly behind her, casting her into shadow.
Light bounced off long dark hair, and her tall, upright figure was outlined by a halo of light, like an aura. She walked with a quiet purpose and dignity which made other people look at her.
He’d never seen her before and wondered where she’d come from. Outer space wouldn’t have surprised him. But, he had to admit, she was more likely a stranger in search of good coffee.
A young couple greeted her and she lifted her hand in a regal wave and smiled. Then she exchanged a few words with the dairy owner and an older lady. Ah, so only a stranger to him then.
First one person, then another greeted the woman. Not with warm hugs but respectful comments and waves. She seemed to emanate stillness and dignity and he was drawn to her immediately, wanting to absorb her calmness like a healing balm.
‘Augi,’ Lucy waved at the woman, who’d now entered the café and was looking around. He noticed two things — her face, and how, beneath that poise was a look of distance and slight discomfort, as if she needed to keep the world at bay. And in that moment he also knew two things. She was the most compellingly beautiful woman he’d ever seen and the most aloof.
He also knew her name. Augi. And her identity. He’d heard Lucy talk about the smart part-time librarian, part-time researcher, full-time recluse who Lucy had entrusted with researching the personal side to the evil Oliver Perry-Warnes. Lucy’s trust wasn’t given easily. Augi was clearly a woman of integrity.
When Augi walked over to them, Dan noticed how Lucy was about to hug her, then thought better of it and patted her on the arm instead. Interesting. Augi didn’t like public hugging. He understood that for sure.
‘Have you met my brother?’ asked Lucy, turning to Dan who hadn’t moved from the moment he’d seen Augi. He hadn’t taken his eyes off her either. ‘This is Daniel,’ she said. He could feel Lucy’s eyes on him, but there was no way he was removing his gaze from Augi. Her eyes were dark brown, so dark he felt they were like a black hole drawing him in. Not in a menacing way, but in a way that felt like untouched bliss. And that Greek complexion, already warm, had taken on a flushed look which made him draw in breath a little faster. Dan was aware of the silence but couldn’t think of a thing to say to fill it. For the first time in a very long time his brain was full of sensations rather than words.
Lucy turned back to Augi. ‘You usually can’t shut him up. If he wasn’t away with the fairies, he’d smile and say, “good to meet you, Augi,” so let’s just take that as read.’
Augi smiled then and it was like the sun had broken through clouds. Her whole face lit up, and her eyes were alive with humour.
‘Daniel,’ she said in her heavily accented English. She extended her hand to him. ‘Lovely to meet you.’
Dan knew he was expected to say something. He didn’t normally have any problems making conversation. He made his living by it after all. But here, now, he couldn’t think of a thing to say to this beautiful goddess other than ‘you’re beautiful’. Instead a strangled grunt sound came out of his mouth, as he wrestled the impulse to say the words into submission.
Get a grip, man! He cleared his throat. ‘You too.’
He extended his hand to Augi and they shook. Her hand was warm, her grip very firm, as if in warning. But he didn’t need one. He could see that this goddess before him didn’t suffer fools gladly. And that she was a force to be reckoned with. Albeit an amazingly dignified, calm and competent force. It was Augi who withdrew from the handshake and he realised he must have held on a few moments too long. He twitched a small smile of apology at her. The blush on her cheeks increased slightly before she turned to Lucy.
‘Right,’ said Lucy, clearly deciding she’d wasted enough time on the two of them. ‘Have you had lunch, Augi?’
‘Yes, thanks.’
‘I haven’t,’ said Dan quickly. He had intended to return to Wellington and have lunch on the waterfront while mulling over his problems. It was easier to reflect on his past in the anonymity of Wellington than here, in his home village. But the game had now changed. That was BA — Before Augi. And he wanted nothing more than to stay.
‘I thought you had somewhere to be,’ said Lucy, amused suspicion written clearly all over her face.
He raised his eyebrows and assumed an innocent air, which was not his usual look. He wasn’t so sure he could pass as innocent. His whole life in Washington had been predicated on the opposite, although he hadn’t realised that until the last few months there.
‘How can I leave without lunch at my favourite café? Besides, I can work here.’ He tapped his laptop, which had no work on it. Not that he was about to tell Lucy that.
She grinned. ‘How convenient.’
‘Isn’t it?’ he said, refusing to return the grin. The fiction would be maintained. He didn’t want Augi running for the hills, frightened off by an over-attentive stranger.
‘Would you like something to drink, Augi?’ asked Lucy.
‘Just a black coffee, thanks.’
Of course, thought Dan. No rich hot chocolate with a whirl of extra cream and toppings for this woman. She was disciplined. You knew where you were with a woman like that. You could see the edges of her personality.
Lucy took charge and pointed to a table next to the one she and Augi were going to sit at. For a moment he’d wondered whether she’d invite him to join them. But, it was clearly something private they were going to discuss. Still, she had chosen a seat where he could admire Augi without her noticing unless she looked around. And it seemed Augi’s focus was on the task at hand. Whatever that was. Focus. Control. So different to the flighty woman he’d once loved, for whom men were as interchangeable as her dresses.
‘Salad, Dan?’ Lucy asked over her shoulder.
‘Nope. You know me,’ he said with a grin. ‘Pie and chips man.’
