Page 49 of Waiting for a Prince
Like a fuse snapping.
Chapter Seventeen
Saturday, September 21
Mark ignoredthe impulse to look at his phone. Sam hadn’t answered one call the whole week or responded to one of Mark’s texts.
And I sent him some great jokes too.
By Thursday, Mark had given up trying to reach him. He couldn’t escape the feeling something was wrong, but there was damn all he could do about it.
If he needs me, he knows where I am.
That didn’t stop him worrying. After all these weeks of pub nights, bowling, and FaceTime calls, seven days of radio silence sent an uneasy ripple through him.
And here he was, less than ten minutes away from the end of his day, facing a Saturday night—and no Sam.
“God, I need a drink,” he muttered as he tidied up the mobile units containing hair curlers and assorted brushes. The salon was looking tidy once more, ready for Monday morning.
“I think you might have company for that drink,” Sonia murmured next to him. Mark gave her a puzzled glance, and she nudged him with her elbow. “Take a look out the window.”
He straightened and looked toward the window—and froze. Sam was waiting across the street, leaning against the whitewashed wall, his eyes trained on the salon.
Mark couldn’t help his reaction. Warmth radiated through him and he was suddenly conscious of his racing heartbeat. Then he looked more closely, squinting in the bright sunlight.
What the hell?
Sam had a blackened right eye. Except it wasn’t black and blue, more green and yellow.
“Has he been in a fight?” Sonia had obviously noticed, too.
“If he has, he didn’t say.”
And that would be a little difficult, don’t you think, seeing as he hasn’t been in touch?
Mark gave a cursory glance at the wall clock. Five minutes to go. He hurried into the little staff room to collect his jacket, his thoughts colliding.
What happened? Is that why he hasn’t been in touch?
If he’d known, Mark would have been over to Sam’s place—wherever that was—in a shot with an ice pack, alcohol…
And healing kisses?
Those too, except that wasn’t allowed.
Friends don’t kiss friends’ bruises away, remember?
The clock was tickingwaytoo slowly, and Mark’s gaze was drawn continually to the tall, lean figure dressed in a plain sky-blue shirt and tight, dark blue jeans.
“Seeing as you seem to have a friend waiting for you, and you’ve finished your work, you can leave, Mark.”
Mark jerked his head back. Marie stood behind him, watching the scene.
OMG she’s smiling.
That was it. The Earth was about to end, and no one had told him.
“Really?” He cursed himself silently for his big fat mouth. Fortunately for him, Marie appeared to be in a good mood.
