Husband Hunters by Genevieve Gannon Page A

podiatrist,’ she said. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just overheard—’ She had no idea what she was saying, all she could think was she didn’t know a good podiatrist. ‘Um …’ she stammered. ‘Daniela—’ She stuck her hand out.
    ‘Daniela’s the podiatrist?’ the blond asked.
    ‘No, ha, I am.’
    Inside Dani’s head, Clementine was yelling at her. Annabel was sympathetically shaking her head. But the bucks each extended a hand for her to shake.
    ‘Roger,’ said the first.
    ‘Paul,’ said the second.
    Daniela’s eye travelled to their hands. Two gold bands were locked around their wedding fingers. Damn. These two were already in captivity.
    ‘Sorry,’ she said, shaking each hand. ‘I just remembered: Dr Smith relocated to Melbourne.’
    ‘Oh,’ said the blond. Then they scampered away.
    Dani gathered up a handful of strawberries and ate them as she strolled around the Vaucluse party. She had failed the first husband-hunting task. She hadn’t spoken to one single single man all night. Outside, James was circulating with a profiterole tower. She watched him pluck one for himself and bite into it. It had been a stupid idea to attempt husband-hunting at his party anyway, she thought.
    An hour later the crowd had thinned out. James was weaving between guests collecting paper plates and glasses. Daniela picked up some empty platters and took them to the kitchen. She watched James fill his arms with champagne bottles under the porch light. She found garbage bags in one of the drawers and took one out to him. He looked up and smiled.
    ‘Did you have a good night?’ he asked.
    She nodded. ‘I thought there’d be more people from work here, though.’
    ‘Um. Yeah. I decided not to invite anyone else.’
    He picked up two cans of beer with one hand. One slipped. The dregs spilled on his shoes, making him swear under his breath.
    ‘Your friends both cleared out pretty early. You don’t mind them ditching you for men?’
    ‘They didn’t ditch me,’ she said.
    ‘You weren’t tempted to disappear with someone yourself?’
    There was an unusual tone to James’s voice. Daniela picked up some paper plates sandwiched together with salmon dip.
    ‘No. What about you? No one of interest here for you tonight?’
    He bent to pick up the bottles that had skittered onto the lawn. There were now only two people left with them outside, a man and woman, talking closely to each other. She was towering over him in heels. He lifted his finger and stroked the soft underside of her chin. James stood and looked at them.
    ‘I was surprised you brought your friends,’ he said.
    ‘Oh, I thought—’
    ‘It’s fine,’ he waved his hand.
    ‘You said the more the merrier—’
    ‘It’s nothing,’ he said. ‘I just thought … never mind. Thanks for helping me clean up. You didn’t have to.’ He took the bulging bag of bottles inside.
    The effect of the night’s early drinks had worn off and Daniela was wide awake. She had an uncomfortable feeling in her stomach, as though she had swallowed something large and indigestible. Like an exhaust pipe.
    When she got home, Simon was on the couch watching a World Cup re-run. The skeletal remains of a pizza lay in an open box on the coffee table.
    ‘Another fight with Liz?’ Dani asked.
    ‘I do live here, too, you know,’ he wailed in protest. ‘Can’t a man spend his Saturday night on his own couch in his own home?’
    Daniela raised her eyebrows.
    ‘Yeah, she kicked me out.’
    At first Gia had been horrified at the idea of Daniela living with a man out of wedlock. But she came around to the idea. She quite liked that there was someone strong around the house to protect her daughter from rapists and energy salesmen, and Daniela suspected her mother secretly hoped the relationship with Simon would develop into something more. She even caught Gia talking to her friends about ‘the lovely couch Daniela and Simon have’, perhaps to head off any