Waiting for a Prince (5 page)

“What?” Sam looked intrigued. Mark gave a quick shake of his head, unwilling to say

anything more, but it seemed Sam wasn’t about to let go. “Aw, now come on, spill.”

Mark cleared his throat. “It’s just…” He picked up his Coke and drained the glass. Sam

hadn’t broken eye contact.
Oh, what the hell
… “Let’s just say if I lived in London, my sex life would be a whole lot more interesting than it is right now. In fact, scratch that last part. At least I’d
have
a sex life.”

He watched as a flush spread up from Sam’s chest, up his neck, staining his cheeks and

finally turning his ears bright red.
Man, that’s cute
. Sam composed himself.

“Things a bit too quiet for you on the island?” That gleam was back.

Mark snorted. “Quiet? Try dead.” Sam’s expression was sympathetic and Mark relaxed

slightly. “I’m not kidding, there’s not a single gay club on the island.”

“So what do you do for… entertainment?”

God, he’s sweet when he’s embarrassed
. Mark snickered. “I don’t stay here, that’s for

certain. I go to Portsmouth or Southampton. There are a few decent clubs over there. Great for

one night stands. Not so great places for finding Mr. Right, though.” He clamped his mouth

shut. He hadn’t meant to come out with that last bit.

Sam’s expression softened. “So you
are
looking for a Mr. Right, then?”

Mark swallowed. “Aren’t we all?” Sam arched his brows and Mark hastily continued.

“Looking for that special someone, I mean.”

Sam looked at him thoughtfully. “Yeah, I suppose we are.” He glanced down at his

watch. “And now it’s time for me to go, I’m afraid.” He got to his feet and held out his hand.

Mark clasped it firmly. Sam coughed. “Look, can I have your number? I’ve really enjoyed

today. Maybe we could meet up again. Go out for a drink in Ryde. Anything.” There was a look

on his face that Mark couldn’t place for an moment, and then it occurred to him that Sam was

lonely.

“Sure,” Mark said, pulling his phone from the pocket of his shorts. He opened ‘contacts’

and handed the phone to Sam. “Put your number in there. Maybe we could do something next

27

and handed the phone to Sam. “Put your number in there. Maybe we could do something next

weekend.”

Sam nodded as he punched in his details. “That’d be great.” He handed the phone back

and picked up his backpack. “Thanks for a great morning, Mark.” With a final warm smile, he

turned and made his way out of the bar. Mark watched him walk along the promenade in the

direction of the town, waving as Sam turned once to look for him. After picking up his

rucksack, Mark left the bar and started the trek back to his car in the opposite direction. The day seemed to have gone so slowly. It was only one o’clock, but it felt as though it should have been much later. He walked along the prom, listening to the waves below as they crashed onto the sea wall. The tide was in, and the waves sprayed over onto the pavements, which dried almost

instantly in the heat of the sun. The droplets spattered over his bare arms, cooling him. Mark

couldn’t hold back his sappy grin.
What a great morning
.

On impulse he pulled out his phone and sent a text to Sam.

Great talking to you. Let’s do it again. Soon.

The message sent, he slipped the phone back into his pocket and continued on his way to

the car park, still armed with the sappy grin.

* * * * * * * * * *

smile on his face. Sam had sent him a couple of jokes earlier that had him spluttering coffee into his cereal. It was now eleven and the salon was quiet, so he was taking advantage of the lull to grab his break. Mark had thrown himself into his tasks as soon as he’d arrived, and Marie had

watched him with an expression on her face that he’d never seen there before. Oh yeah—that

would be approval. He snickered to himself.

“Mark, you got a minute?”

Sonia stood in the doorway of the little staff room off the back of the salon. Her cheery

smile always made him feel good. He drained the last of his tea. “Sure. What can I do for you?”

“I’ve got an hour or so before my next lady arrives, so I was wondering… Want to cut

my hair?”

Mark stared at her in surprise. Marie hadn’t let him near a single customer with a pair of

28

Mark stared at her in surprise. Marie hadn’t let him near a single customer with a pair of

scissors since he’d arrived. He’d washed hair, swept up, colored hair extensions and made

numerous cups of tea and coffee, but nothing that resembled the stuff he’d been doing at

college. He gazed at Sonia hopefully. “Really?”

She nodded, eyes bright. “Come on, you can wash my hair first and then we’ll work out

what you’re going to do with it.” She winked. “You’re gonna make me look fabulous!”

Mark grinned and followed her to the wash station. After he’d draped and fastened a

towel around her, he started to wash her dark red hair. He remembered to do the head massage

that he’d watched Wendy doing so many times. The customers really seemed to like it.

“Hmm, you have a nice touch, Mark.” Mark glowed at the words of praise. “So, you

going to tell me what’s put that smile on your face this morning?” Her eyes widened. “Or is it

more a case of
who
? You met someone this weekend, didn’t you?” There was a wicked gleam in her eyes. “Come on, spill.”

Mark laughed quietly. “No… well, yes….but it’s not like you think.” Sonia’s forehead

wrinkled. “Yes, I met someone, but he’s not a potential boyfriend—more’s the pity. He’s more

like a potential best friend.” That was a fair assessment of Sam, he figured. “And you know

him. You met him on Saturday when he was here with his girlfriend.”

Sonia’s eyes grew large and round. “Mr. Fantabulous? The gorgeous hunk who ticked all

your boxes?” She stared up at him. “Oh, you’ve
got
to tell me how this all happened.”

Mark chuckled as he rinsed off the shampoo and applied the conditioner. There were no

other customers at the wash station and Marie was nowhere in sight. He lowered his voice and

told Sonia all about the morning at the beach. She listened in rapt attention, making the odd

little noise here and there. When he’d finished, she gave him a warm smile.

“Sweetie, I’m so glad. I think you needed a friend.”

Mark had to agree with her. He had lots of acquaintances—people he knew from school,

his neighbors, the girls at the salon—but no real friends. He had no one to blame but himself.

Being painfully shy really sucked.

He wrapped a towel around Sonia’s head and led her to her own chair. As he looked at

her smiling face in the mirror, surrounded by damp, straggly hair, Mark found himself nervously rubbing his hand down his pant leg.
God, don’t screw this up
…

Sonia’s gaze met his. “You’ll be
fine
.” Her tone brimmed with confidence. Mark’s

29

Sonia’s gaze met his. “You’ll be
fine
.” Her tone brimmed with confidence. Mark’s

returning nod was nowhere near as confident.

For the next twenty minutes, Mark clipped, snipped and combed her hair, always

conscious of Sonia watching him carefully. There had been the heart stopping moment when

Marie had appeared beside him, her eyes wide. She opened her mouth to say something—and

judging by the twist of her lips, it wasn’t going to be good—but Sonia got in there first.

“I thought it was about time Mark showed us what he’s made of,” Sonia said brightly,

watching Marie. “I know I didn’t ask you about doing this, but I figured that as the senior stylist here, it was my decision.” Both Sonia and Mark watched for Marie’s reaction. Mark held his

breath. Marie could make life difficult for Sonia if she wanted to. Sonia had come to the salon about a month after Mark, and Marie had been delighted to steal her from Snippets, the very

popular salon at the foot of Union Street. Having Sonia was a real feather in her cap, because

Sonia’s ladies were a loyal bunch. When she left Snippets, so did they.

Marie pressed her lips together and eyed Sonia’s hair with interest. “Well, since he’s

obviously doing such a good job, we’d better let him finish.” She smiled thinly and walked

away.

Mark regarded Sonia in the mirror, openmouthed. He bent down and spoke into her ear.

“Did I just imagine that, or did Marie actually say I was doing a good job?”

Sonia clutched her ample chest. “I may faint,” she whispered, eyes sparkling

mischievously. They both laughed under their breath.

At last Mark was finished. He laid down the hairdryer and gave Sonia’s hair a final

comb through. He held up the large round mirror to the back so she could see how it looked, and then held his breath as she inspected the finished effect with a critical eye.

“Mark, that’s a really nice job.”

Mark expelled his breath in one long push of air. “Really?”

Sonia’s eyes met his. “Sweetie, I wouldn’t lie about something so important. You did

well. Now go get your phone and take a picture. One for your portfolio.” She beamed. “I can’t

wait ’til Dave sees this tonight.”

Mark’s chest swelled with pride. The rest of the morning was very pleasant, as the girls

stopped by wherever he was working at the time to comment on Sonia’s hair. Even Marie had a

smile for him. It was his best day at the salon by far. When Marie finally locked the door at five 30

smile for him. It was his best day at the salon by far. When Marie finally locked the door at five thirty and everyone drifted off in different directions, it was a very happy Mark who walked

home, his heart light.

As he reached the front door of his building, his phone chimed. It was Sam.

Day over
?

Beaming, Mark typed a reply.
Best ever
.

Cool
.

Yeah, it was
, Mark thought as he climbed the stairs to his second floor flat. He’d just got through his front door when the phone rang. Sam. Mark smiled as he connected them.

“So what was so good about today, then?” Sam’s cheerful voice filled his ear as he

switched on the kettle for a much needed mug of coffee.

“I finally got to cut someone’s hair!” he announced triumphantly.

“And I take it she isn’t going to sue?” Mark could hear the teasing note in Sam’s tone.

“Cheeky sod.” Mark dropped a spoonful of instant coffee into the mug and shifted from

one foot to the other as he waited for the kettle to boil. “I’ll have you know, Sonia looked

fantastic.
And
I got compliments.” That gleeful grin was back.

Sam laughed. “Okay, I believe you. Sounds like you had a better day than I did.”

Mark’s grin slipped. “Why? What happened?”

“Oh, not much. I was battling with code all afternoon and it was driving me nuts.”

Mark let out a relieved sigh. “Is that all? You had me worried for a sec.”

Sam chuckled. “So me struggling with a stupid program isn’t worth worrying about?

Nice to know where I stand.” That teasing tone was still in evidence. “Anyway, I only rang to

ask you if you wanted to meet up on Friday night. I’m planning on going to the fireworks. Want

to join me for a few beers?”

Sam’s invitation was the icing on the cake, as far as Mark was concerned. “Yeah, that

sounds good. I was going to catch the bus from Ryde. That way, I can get a few pints down.”

“In which case, I’ll meet you in front of the Royal Yacht Club at seven. The beer tent

will be there, and the marquee with the live music. Should be good. The Hamsters are playing.”

Mark couldn’t believe it. “You like the Hamsters too? They’re great. I’ve heard them

live two or three times now.” The Hamsters was a tribute band, specializing in the music of Jimi Hendrix and ZZ Top.

31

“Yeah? Fantastic.” Mark could hear the smile in Sam’s voice. “I’ll let you get on with

your evening, seeing as you’ve just finished work, and I’ll see you Friday.”

Mark thanked him and hung up. As he poured boiling water onto the coffee, he smiled to

himself. A great day at work—and a great Friday night to come. His life seemed to have taken a

sudden turn for the better.

32

Cowes was heaving as usual. Most of the time it was a trendy little town with

fashionable boutiques which seemed to cater exclusively for the yachting brigade, but that went into overdrive during Cowes week. Anyone who was
anyone
was out and about, watching the races, drinking Pimms from the balcony of the Royal Yacht Club and hanging out on some of

the more fabulous-looking boats.

But on the Friday, most of the island turned out to see the fireworks, which were always

impressive. The quay was a surging mass of spectators, clutching plastic glasses of beer or

wine, everyone eagerly awaiting darkness to fall so the show could begin. The harbor was filled with boats as people tried to get the best vantage point from which to observe the proceedings.

Mark loved the fireworks, but that was because he was basically a big kid. Yeah, he

listened to the
oohs
and
ahs
of the people around him with a big grin on his face—but his voice joined theirs readily enough.

He stood near the beer tent, clutching his pint of Wight Gold, an island brewed beer. He

scanned the crowd, looking for Sam. It was seven thirty and as yet there was no sign of him.

Mark thought briefly about texting him, but he didn’t want to bother the man, especially as Sam had let slip in his last phone call the previous night that Rebecca might want to come along.