Page 66 of Lessons in Love at the Seaside Salon
‘Sorry,’ she says, her voice strangled.
‘For what?’
‘I was bad company.’
He stops and stands in front of her. ‘Did I say that?’
‘No.’
He nods once. ‘Right. Because you’re not bad company.’ He smiles and it’s so warm her heart feels as if it wants to melt. ‘You’re my favourite company. And you don’t ever have to apologise to me for having something on your mind.’
It’s overwhelming, having him care for her this much. Really. It’s …
She knows her parents love her. But this is different. Brettchoseher.
‘You’re the best,’ she whispers.
He laughs and takes her hand, kissing her on the lips this time. ‘Nah, you are,’ he says.
As he walks her back to the car, she forgets to worry, and she keeps forgetting all the way home.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
It’s busier than usual today and Evie is glad, because it means she’ll have to spend less time around Sam. Not that she wants to spend less time around him – if she had her way, she’d spend the rest of her life around him – but it’s better if she does. Especially if he’s never going to be interested in her.
There’s a part of her that still wonders, though: even if he is gay, maybe he’s notall the waygay. If there’s a girlfriend in his past – while he was at school, for example – that would be evidence that he’s interested in some females of the species. Wouldn’t it?
Oliver. She needs to talk to Oliver. Who will probably think it’s really strange that she wants to ask him if Sam might be interested in her but she’s desperate.
She’s never been desperate before. Not for a man. Not for anything. Ambivalence has been the bigger determinant of how her life has turned out. Which sounds lacklustre but it got her a son. She and Stevo were ambivalent about each other yet they managed to make a baby, so ambivalence can’t be all bad. In fact, she prefers it – would prefer it a million times over – to the way she feels now, not sleeping well, being distracted during the day as she thinks about Sam and what she should do.
Meeting Sam was what it took to break her out of her pattern. Instead of the tepid temperature of ambivalence she felt fire. Thinking about him, being around him, would make her cheeks flame. It wasn’t something she could control or understand; it justwas. That’s how she knows he’s the man she’s been meantto meet all these years. Not the one she was holding out for so much as the one she’s been waiting for. So she can’t accept that they can’t be together. Which means she has to talk to Oliver about it. She’ll call him tonight.
‘Darl, excuse me, just getting this comb,’ Sam says as he brushes past her. There go her cheeks again. ‘You all right?’ he says, grinning as he picks up the comb.
‘Um – yes,’ she says.
He looks at her quizzically. She knows why: normally she gives him long sentences, if not whole paragraphs, in response to any question. But she can hardly tell him that she spent the weekend crying over him, the way she’s been crying over him for days now, trying to think of a solution which doesn’t involve her not loving him, because it’s been keeping her company, this love, for months now, and she doesn’t want to live without it.
Still, he moves on and away from her to his client and she tries to focus on hers, although she kept the scissors moving while Sam was talking to her and now notices Mrs Grey putting a hand to the nape of her neck.
‘Evie,’ she barks, ‘what are you doing?’
‘Hm? Sorry?’
‘Where has myhairgone?’
Evie looks down and sees she has snipped far more than Mrs Grey requested, so that her long bob has now become a shorter bob in one narrow section.
‘Oh god,’ she breathes.
‘I can feelairon the back of myneck.’
Mrs Grey is quite agitated now and Evie understands why, but she really wishes Mrs Grey would try to stay calm. For all of their sakes.
‘I’m sorry,’ Evie squeaks. ‘I’m, um … I’ll even it off.’
‘That will give me a short bob.’ Mrs Grey glares at her in the mirror. ‘And you know my feelings about short hair.’
