Page 3 of Sheltered

For several long moments, her eyes searched my face. I had a feeling she was trying to figure out if I was telling the truth. I chose to remain quiet and give her that time. Once it became clear to her that I wasn’t making any of this up, she asked, “What’s his name?”

I grinned and jerked my head toward the back of the salon. “Let’s go get this color washed out, and I’ll tell you what I know about him.”

Olive stood and followed me to the back of the salon. As soon as I got started on her hair again, I shared, “His name is Rob, and he’s thirty-four years old. He lives here in Steel Ridge, and he’s in the automotive industry. Assuming he uploaded a real photo, he’s kind of cute, too.”

“This is so exciting,” Olive bubbled. “What else? Do you know anything about what he likes to do?”

“Well, he enjoys craft beer, a good football game, and home-cooked meals. He’s not a fan of sushi, smoking, or pop music.”

“Hmm. Well, I have to disagree with him on the sushi and the music, but that’s not necessarily a deal breaker, right?”

I laughed. “Even though I’m not one for sushi, those were my thoughts about the music.”

As I started rinsing the shampoo from her hair, my best friend said, “So, you’re going out on Friday. I assume you’re meeting him somewhere.”

“I am. We decided to keep it casual between us, so I’m going to be meeting him at The Steel Pub,” I shared. “If things go well and we decide to see each other again, we’ll plan a dinner date.”

Olive groaned. “I’m thrilled for you, Harlow. I really am. But I’m so disappointed I’m not going to be able to get all the juicy details from you until sometime early next week. I’ve got my cousin’s baby shower on Saturday, and right after it’s over, Ben’s taking me to the beach for two nights, because I’m off from work on Monday.”

I shrugged my shoulders and returned, “Okay. So, we’ll talk next week. It’s no big deal.”

“But I want to know what happened. You have to at least send me a text to let me know how it went,” she begged.

“I promise I’ll let you know by no later than Saturday afternoon,” I assured her.

Seemingly content with my promise, Olive didn’t respond. I finished washing her hair, and we returned to the chair, so I could give her a trim before drying and styling. And it was only after I’d pulled out my scissors to get that started when Olive asked, “What made you do it?”

“Do what?” I returned.

“Of all the things I could dream up to have you break out of your shell a bit, joining a dating app would not have even made it into the top ten,” she explained.

A wave of melancholy had washed over me. “I want more, Olive,” I finally confessed. “I’ve spent so much time in my life not going out or doing anything, because I’ve always been that good girl. The one who follows the rules. For so long, I had believed my guy was going to just find me. But I’m thirty-two years old now, and there’s no man in sight.”

“You don’t need a man to be happy, Harlow,” Olive noted.

I nodded. “I know. Trust me, I’m well aware I don’t need a man. It doesn’t mean that I don’t want someone, that I don’t want other things in my life. I just feel like I’m going through the motions every day. And even though I’m happy doing what I do, I still want some excitement in my life. I need a little bit of adventure. That’s mostly what I want, but I’d be lying if I said I don’t also want to experience intimacy, too.”

“In that case, I fully support you doing this. I wanted to be sure you were doing this for the right reasons.”

Smiling at her, loving that she always had my best interests at heart, I said, “I am. I’m doing this for me, because it’s what I want. With the exception of the time I spend with you outside of work, I don’t do much else. My life has been so focused on work and doing what I’m supposed to do that I haven’t made any time for fun. I can’t keep doing it. You know I love you. It’s not that. I want to experience real love in a romantic adult relationship. I want to find someone who shares similar interests and wants to experience life with me.”

Olive didn’t immediately respond. I’d been focused on what I was doing with her hair, that I hadn’t taken notice of what was happening. But when I dropped my hand holding the scissors down for just a moment to look at her, I could see why she’d grown quiet. Tears had filled my friend’s eyes as something warm stole over her expression. Once my eyes were locked on hers, she rasped, “Then I think this is the best thing for you, and I can’t wait to hear all about your date.”

I bit my lip. “I’m so excited about this date. I haven’t felt this way in so long.”

“I hope it works out just the way you want, and who knows? Maybe one day, you’ll convince Rob that pop music is great,” she joked.

I burst out laughing. “Hey, there’s nothing wrong with hoping, right?”

With that, I got back to working on Olive’s hair. And while we eventually shifted our conversation to other topics, my mind occasionally drifted back to what was about to happen in my life.

I could only hope Olive was right, and that I’d be so lucky to find the perfect guy when I made my first real attempt to put myself out there.

Only time would tell.

This was a disaster.

I was fifteen minutes into this date with Rob, and it wasn’t going anything like I had planned.

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