Page 25 of Lessons in Love at the Seaside Salon

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

So Evie did it. She asked Sam out.

He was giving her all the signals and she was sick of waiting, and there was an article in Cleo or one of those magazines with a title ‘Girls, Take the Initiative’, which was all about how a woman should ask a man out if she likes him, because why should the man get to make all the decisions?

Evie used to think she quite liked the man making the decisions about dating because she had enough decisions to make in other realms of her life, but then she wondered …

If she wanted Sam, why shouldn’t she go after him?

Therefore, she did.

Not that she said anything like, ‘Do you want to go on a date?’ Imagine if he’d come out and said ‘no’? Instead, as they were in the back room together yesterday, she straightened her spine and said, ‘Would you like to do something sometime?’

He’d turned to look at her, and, as ever, his face was so glorious to gaze at that she felt both enraptured and shallow at the same time. His face is not all there is to like about him! Except she can’t help liking it a lot. No man this handsome has ever before paid her even a second’s attention.

‘You mean, like a date?’ he’d said, winking, and she’d almost died. Not literally. But emotionally.

‘Um.’

‘Sure, darl. I’d love that.’ He put a finger to his chin. ‘There’s an old movie playing in Avoca tomorrow night. Are you a fan of Lauren Bacall?’

Evie didn’t know if she was or not as she hasn’t contemplated the issue before, but the question implied that Sam knew a fair bit about Bacall so Evie crossed her fingers and nodded and said, ‘Yes’, even though she wasn’t sure why he was asking her.

‘Marilyn?’

‘Monroe?’

He gave her a funny look. ‘Of course! Who else?’

That one was easier to answer because Evie loved Marilyn, although admittedly more as an icon and less as an actress because she hadn’t seen that many Marilyn movies.

‘Yes!’ she replied.

‘Perfect!’ Sam said. ‘Because the movie is How to Marry a Millionaire . I was going to see it alone – who knew that the perfect person to see it with was in front of me all along?’

It was said so easily, so breezily, like it carried no weight whatsoever.

But for her it was a statement the size of the moon and just as bright, and she almost gasped with the surprise of it.

It’s so rare that the very thing you’ve been dreaming of exists in the real world, yet here it was: Sam, the subject of her dreams and daydreams, wanting to spend time with her away from the salon.

Even better, Stevo had already asked for Billy to stay the weekend with him. Evie had thought she’d be home alone with Hey Hey It’s Saturday and a frozen pizza.

Now they’re sitting together in the dark, with Sam’s leg close to hers and his hand on the other side of the arm rest, a movie flickering on the screen and a packet of Fantales getting warmer in her lap, and Evie can’t remember the last time she took a breath.

That’s how tense she is. And excited. And nervous.

And wondering what on earth is going on – or might be going on – between them.

They’re watching the luminous Hollywood beauties simper and smoulder their way across the screen, and all Evie can think about is whether or not Sam actually meant it when he said this was a date. Or like a date. If this goes well, will he ask her out next time?

What if he’s having a bad time, though? Oh no. Work will be so awkward. Not that she didn’t think about that but she forgot it in the rush of asking him out.

There, she’s breathing again. She can feel it. In, out. Despite her nervousness, she needs to try to stay calm. Fainting in the cinema is not romantically alluring.

God, she is so not ready to be romantically alluring.

The last time a man saw her naked it was in a dark room and they’d both had too much to drink and she’s not sure the bloke even saw much of her because he was so busy worrying about whether he was ‘good enough’.

No, he wasn’t, but she was hardly going to say that, and all they did was roll around for a bit anyway and have a pash before he started snoring, which led to her getting dressed and leaving and never seeing him again.

Actually, she did see him again, at a pub, but she couldn’t remember his name and they both pretended not to know each other.

She doesn’t ever want to be in a position to have to pretend to not know Sam.

It’s corny to think it – and she’s certainly not going to say it out loud – but she feels as if she’s known Sam before, in another lifetime.

At least one. Yes, yes, she’s heard people say things like that and thought they were ridiculous, but now she knows it’s because she hadn’t found it yet. Hadn’t found him.

Once she talked to Trudy about Laurie and how she was sure he was the man for her, and Trudy had said she just knew. ‘It’s a feeling, pet,’ she said, ‘and there’s no mistaking it.’

Evie can’t mistake this feeling. It’s not butterflies fluttering in her stomach, it’s eagles flapping their huge wings inside her whole chest, impossible to ignore or write off or pretend that it’s just a crush.

She’s had crushes. They are feeble things compared to what she feels now.

Moths, not even butterflies, let alone birds.

Crushes are silly and transient and they give you the equivalent of a sugar fix with no substance whatsoever.

Sam’s leg and hand are still there. Right next to her.

Oh, how she wants to touch them. She’s not going to, though.

That is definitely too forward. But it shocks her, how strongly she feels like doing it.

How much of an urge it is. Not even an impulse.

There’s this force inside her that could make her reach out and touch him if she doesn’t keep control of it.

That’s definitely something she’s never felt before.

Is it lust? Partly. Sure. But that sounds too … shallow, too tawdry, not noble enough, for this experience she’s having. It’s stronger than feelings. It’s … Oh god, no, she can’t think the word. Can she?

It’s destiny. Yes, that’s what she believes.

She was meant to meet Oliver so he could bring Sam into her life.

What if she hadn’t gone to putt-putt that day?

Would Oliver even have contacted her about Sam working at the salon?

Perhaps not. So it was destiny that put her at the putt-putt at the same time as Oliver.

Beside her Sam cackles and she blinks, coming back to the present.

‘God, I love her,’ he says softly as Marilyn looms on the screen. ‘She’s so funny.’

Funny is not a word Evie has associated with Marilyn Monroe but if Sam thinks she’s funny, Evie will start watching her movies and figuring out why. Because she wants to know Sam better. Just like he wants to know her better – he’s always asking her questions about Billy, for example.

Once the movie has finished they wander out into the cool early-winter air, hearing the sound of waves breaking on Avoca Beach. She wants to take his hand, but she knows that’s too much, too soon. They’ve only had this one maybe-date.

‘I’m so glad you wanted to come to this movie,’ Sam says as they stroll toward his car, other moviegoers also taking their time to leave the cinema. There’s never much of a rush in these parts. Why would anyone hurry? The Coast lifestyle is laidback no matter where you go.

‘Thank you for suggesting it,’ Evie says, hoping she doesn’t sound too keen. It never pays to sound as keen as you feel.

‘I’d love to do it again,’ he says, fishing his car keys out of his pocket and turning to give her a big smile.

‘So would I,’ she says after a beat, holding back her keenness.

‘Great!’

He opens the passenger door and sees her in, and her heart leaps because he has manners, just as her mother said men always should, and she tries not to read too much into it, but manners are so rare and it’s so hard not to get excited about them.

When he drops her home he’s even better mannered: not so much as a kiss on the cheek. But he walks her to her door.

‘See you Monday morning?’ he says with a wink. ‘For those ladies and their gossip. I love it!’

‘Me too,’ she squeaks out, before she waves him goodbye and lets herself inside.

She sits on the couch for an hour staring into space, and later, when she goes to bed, she stares at the ceiling and tries to quiet the racing of her heart, knowing she doesn’t want to, will never want to, because finally, at thirty-three years of age, she is in love.