‘Sam?’ Barney opens the door before I’ve worked up the courage to knock.
‘Hi.’ I smile meekly, but Barney’s mouth doesn’t so much as twitch. Harry appears next to Barney and purses his lips when his eyes land on me.
‘We thought you’d ditched us for the big city folk.’ Barney crosses his arms over his chest.
‘Oh, Barney, please don’t be like that. Things have blown up at work, that’s all.’
‘Blown up socially, you mean. We saw your Instagram. Sushi, baseball and drinking with your office friends. It seems like you’ve found your way up the ladder and Harry and I were just the first rung you had to step on,’ Barney says coldly.
‘Barney.’ Harry speaks gently and puts his hand on Barney’s arm but Barney doesn’t react. ‘It did look like you were getting up close and personal with that guy in the last picture. It kind of felt a bit like you’d taken us for a ride after all your protesting about dating. Then you seem to hit it off with Ethan one minute and the next, you’re off with some other guy.’
I plead with my eyes. ‘You have it all wrong. If you let me in or let me take you for a cocktail, I’ll explain.’
They look at each other for a few moments, and I wonder if they can communicate telepathically.
‘We were just heading out,’ Barney says, picking up his man-bag for effect.
‘Can I join you, or is it a date?’
They look at each other. Harry looks like he’s about to nod, but Barney’s expression is more steadfast.
‘She could come, I guess,’ Barney says to Harry as though I’m not standing pathetically in front of them.
Harry shrugs. ‘We’re going to the beach bar.’
When we arrive, I tell Harry and Barney to sit in the back corner, overlooking the beach, and I go to the bar. The least I can do is get the fruitiest, most glitzy cocktails I can to make up for not being in touch.
‘Here you go.’ I place down three shimmery pink Cherry Sunsets. They have sparklers in and everything. Barney can’t help but let the corner of his mouth lift with joy. I knew I could crack him.
‘Thanks, Sam,’ he says. Harry echoes it with forty per cent less cheer.
‘I’ve missed you guys. It’s just, well, I’ve been …’ My throat becomes so dry it sticks together when I try to force out the words. It turns out admitting you fancy the pants off someone never gets any easier.
‘You’ve been what?’ Harry says impatiently.
‘I’ve been … god, this is hard to say.’ I draw a huge mouthful of cocktail and gulp it back.
Barney sighs. ‘She’s been falling in love with Ethan.’
Nobody speaks.
‘What? No!’ I protest when his words register. ‘Not falling in love. I hardly know him. I’ve started to like him more than I want to, that’s all, and I wanted to put some distance between us before I did something I might regret. I don’t mean physically,’ I add. ‘I know he’s off limits. I mean that I just don’t want to start to like him any more than I do already, so I stayed away, that’s all.’
Harry looks at Barney. ‘How did you know this?’
‘He didn’t. I’m not in love, remember?’ I butt in, but nobody is looking at me. I don’t think they’re listening.
‘It’s obvious. The way she was looking at him when he was talking to Kimberley at our house. The way they were together at the cookout too. I’ve never seen Ethan like that either, even though Kimberley is always flirting with him. He spends most of his time trying to ease away from her.’ Barney is far more perceptive than I’ve given him credit for.
‘Oh.’ Harry nods. ‘I’d never noticed.’
‘What is it about Ethan that makes him so off limits?’ I ask gently, hoping that the truth will help me put to bed any feelings I may have developed.
‘Oh, honey, it isn’t our place to say. Maybe he’ll tell you himself if you do get to know him a little better, but that’s up to him,’ Barney says.
‘So, if you’re avoiding Ethan, what brought you back here?’ Harry asks.
‘I missed you guys, but I also came for inspiration.’ I fill them in on the backtracking that Rocks have done, and how I wanted to come back to the place that inspired me in a desperate bid to come up with a ground-breaking idea that really knocks their Rocks off. God, even in my head my pun game is shocking.
Barney throws his arms in the air, almost taking Harry’s eye out. ‘These showbiz types are divas, then they go into the business world and take their divaness with them.’
‘I don’t disagree with you there, but I still have to fix the problem. It’s a big project, and if they strop off somewhere else, I’ll probably get the sack, so I need to put my kid-gloves on to handle them and fix this.’
‘But they liked the stuff you shot on the beach, right?’ Harry says.
‘Yes, they just want more of it.’
‘And they want to appeal to older teens too?’
I nod. ‘They used the phrase “Generation Z”.’
‘I think I have an idea, but I’m afraid it’s going to involve Ethan.’
I know where Harry is going with this. If I’m completely honest with myself, it’s the reason I came here.
‘I know – cycling, kayaking, riding an open-top Jeep down to the beach, maybe with a surfboard thrown in the back?’
‘Woman, you don’t need me.’
‘I guess not.’ My chest tingles with excitement. ‘I suppose my confidence was knocked a little and I panicked. I think I’m going to head back to the hotel and outline some ideas for tomorrow. Then I can shoot some footage.’
‘It sounds like you have yourself a plan.’ Harry smiles, and I stand to leave. ‘Sam? Will we see you again?’ he asks.
One thing this evening has proven to me is that I really do belong here. I have to come back. I love the place so much and being without Harry and Barney left me feeling a little empty. I grin. ‘Yes, I’ll deal with my issues. I meant it when I said I’d missed you guys. I’ll take you out to dinner next Saturday. How does that sound?’
‘We could be tempted,’ Barney teases.
I walk back to my hotel feeling lighter than I have in the past two weeks.
Chapter 18
I wake up early to the comforting sound of the surf and seagulls. The sun streams through the wispy curtains covering the balcony doors, and its effect on me is better than caffeine. My notebook lies open on the bedside table, and the pages of scribbled notes I wrote last night fill me with excitement. I’m raring to go.
It’s not until I’m about to leave that the reality of seeing Ethan sets in. I have to convince myself that any thoughts or feelings I have on that matter are one-sided. He doesn’t know why I haven’t been back to Provincetown; he probably hasn’t even noticed. Harry texted to say that Ethan is working at the kayak place this morning, so I make my way there. The initial sight of him stops me in my tracks a little. He’s wearing a loose black vest, arm muscles rippling as he kneels in the sand to clean down one of the boats. It takes me a second to work up the courage to go over to him.
‘Hi,’ I say when I’m close enough. His eyes widen in surprise.
‘Oh, hi Sam.’ He stands, and I’d forgotten how imposing his full height was. ‘I wasn’t sure I’d see you again.’ His tone is unreadable.
‘I know. I’ve had a lot of work drama to deal with, and I haven’t had the chance to come back. I’ve missed this place though.’
He nods, and his hair falls into his eyes.
A kaleidoscope of butterflies is disturbed in my stomach. ‘I actually wanted to ask you a favour.’ I explain all about the marketing project and my ideas.
‘I’d be happy to help. Do you want me to model?’ He strikes an Arnie-inspired pose, and I giggle, not because the joke was particularly funny, but because seeing him act the goat is so unusual. It adds another dimension to him. I’m suddenly aware of my own heartbeat.
Aesthetics aside, I am short of a model. ‘Actually, I’ve been so wrapped up in
the location and activity planning that I’d not arranged for a model. Not that I need a proper model, just someone to demonstrate how the actual shots would work.’
‘I’m serious, I don’t mind helping you out. This weekend has been pretty quiet so far, so I have the time.’ He dabs his forehead with the hem of his vest, and I catch a glimpse of his toned abs. Testosterone is practically oozing from him.
I catch the yes before it explodes from my mouth, and mould it into something less eager. ‘That would be really helpful.’
Using Ethan for the model would be okay if I had a pair of Rocks to fit him. His black-and-camouflage Havaianas are not going to work. If I don’t have the product in the demo, the directors are going to be so pissed off they won’t see past it. Then it dawns on me.
‘Seeing as though I’m the only one of us wearing Rocks, I might have to realise my teenaged dream of being the next Kate Moss and do the modelling part myself.’ I pull a face to emphasise how uncomfortable this makes me. ‘Is there a mirror anywhere that I can use to knock a good twenty-odd years off myself?’
He laughs gently and points inside the office. ‘In the staff bathroom.’
I return five minutes later with my hair in a high ponytail, hoping the Croydon Facelift is as miraculous as the tabloids would have had you believe. My denim shorts and white vest work in an ageless sort of way, and the fact I don’t have any make-up on other than a slick of mascara also works in my favour. ‘I don’t think I’m fooling anyone into believing I’m Generation Z, but I think I could pass for a millennial.’ Ethan stares at me for a moment then shakes his head slightly.
‘I definitely wouldn’t serve you any alcohol.’
I feel my cheeks prickle and turn my back to Ethan so that I’m facing the cobalt water. ‘I don’t think I want to be out there kayaking.’
‘Not after last time.’ Ethan’s tone is light, teasing.
‘Funny, smart-arse. I meant that you won’t really see the shoes.’
‘Especially not if you vomit all over them.’ He rubs the stubble on his chin and studies them. ‘Although, it wouldn’t make them any worse.’
I give him a faux glare, and he laughs easily. ‘Can I use that kayak there?’ I point to a turquoise and white one that I think will look nice in the shot.
‘Sure. I’ll pull it to the water.’
‘Actually, I’ll do it. A shot of me dragging it to the water might work well.’
He shrugs and takes the phone I proffer. He indicates when he’s started filming, and I take the fabric handle that’s attached to the nose of the boat and pull it through the powdery sand to the water. I wipe my brow and look out to the ocean.
‘That looks pretty good,’ Ethan says, handing me the phone.
I play back the footage, prickling with the discomfort of seeing myself on screen, but at the same time relieved that it does what I want it to. Motivated by that shot, I sit on the nose of the vessel with one foot in the sand and the other resting on top. I wrap an arm around my elevated knee and look out across the water. ‘Okay, can you just pan around, making sure you have the whole of me in the shot, including the shoes?’
‘You’re really bossy when you get going,’ he says. I ignore him. When he’s done, he hands me the oar. ‘Rest this on your lap and let me try it again.’
Bemused by his enthusiasm, I do it.
‘That’s a wrap,’ he says.
‘And still only 10 a.m.,’ I say smugly.
The footage looks great. I have to admit, the oar was a nice touch. The whole thing suggests a nonchalance that lets the shoes speak out. It’s perfect.
‘Now then.’ I pull my sweetest smile and kink my knee coquettishly. ‘I was hoping to ask for another favour.’
An hour later we’re in my favourite red Jeep, heading to Herring Cove. Ethan’s brother, Zac, kindly drove the Jeep over to the kayak place and said he’d hold the fort for the day while Cindy manned the bike shop. I knew we wouldn’t need the full day, but for some reason, I didn’t protest. I can’t seem to give up on wanting to spend time with Ethan.
‘Okay, how do you want to do this?’ Ethan asks when we’ve pulled up overlooking the bay. I jump out of the car and walk around it, surveying the vantage points. Ethan gets out to follow me.
‘You stand here.’ Absentmindedly, I place my hands on his shoulders to manoeuvre him, and the shock of their firmness and sheer size jolts me and I almost recoil. Touching a man is such uncharted territory for me. It’s been such a long time that I feel like I’ve reached out and grabbed a forbidden sculpture at the Louvre or something.
Trying to act casual, I jump in the passenger seat of the car and put my feet up on the dash. ‘Okay, if you can pan around from the back of the car to the front, keeping the camera on me and the shoes, that should work.’ I make an arc with my arm. ‘Oh, get the car and the ocean in the shot too.’
He does as requested, and I ask him to do it again after I’ve taken out my ponytail and let my hair blow in the breeze. I rest my head on my arm, and the orange glow of the sunlight flows through the gap it makes.
‘This is looking fantastic,’ he says. We take a few more shots of me running and skipping in the sand, and we sit on the bonnet (or hood, as Ethan calls it) of the car to play it all back. In the final scene, I run through the sand and turn around. The wind catches my hair, sending it in a dark stream behind me, and because I don’t realise he’s still filming, I smile. I was being silly, I felt silly, but I play back the footage and it looks almost flirtatious. I’m horrified with myself. The camera zooms in on my face, my smile. It takes me a second to realise that Ethan had to have done that on purpose. A tingling sensation runs up the back of my neck and I lock my phone and stuff it into my pocket.
‘You mentioned bikes. We have time to take a walk on the beach or something first if you want to.’
That same feeling of unease I got when Ethan walked me home starts to creep up on me again. I want to run back to my hotel room, as far away from Ethan as possible, but I need this footage. I must pull myself together for the sake of my job. It isn’t like Ethan has come on to me, and there is the whole ‘off limits’ thing. I’m just being ridiculous.
‘It would be best to do the bike ride, I think.’
We call at the kayak place on the way to the bike place because Ethan wants to collect his backpack or something. Whilst he’s inside, Zac comes out to say hello.
‘Hey, Sam.’ He smiles and leans on the side of the car. His size once again surprises me; he’s built like Aquaman, but, strangely, he doesn’t intimidate me like Ethan does.
‘Hi,’ I say.
‘Thanks for getting Ethan out there.’
‘What do you mean?’ I’m confused. Ethan is ‘out there’ all the time. In fact, that’s always been my problem with him. He’s everywhere.
He rubs the back of his neck. ‘I shouldn’t really say. It’s just that, other than work and family stuff, Ethan doesn’t have much else going on in his life. Helping you out will do him good. I haven’t seen him as enthusiastic about anything in a long while.’
‘Oh. Yeah.’ I’m not sure how to react. I’m not even sure what Zac is implying, but before I can ask, Ethan returns with his backpack, which he slings onto the back seat.
‘Okay, Hulk Hogan, I’ll see you later.’
His brother laughs, clearly proud of his size.
As we drive over to the bike place, I take a short video of the main street. The atmosphere is so carefree and happy that I hope I can use it in the footage. We abandon the Jeep and Ethan kits us out with some bikes, puts on his backpack and turns to face me. ‘I have a few ideas of where we can go if you’re happy for me to take the lead?’
I let my arms fall to my sides. ‘I have nothing.’
‘Just down the bike track, there’s this beautiful spot. I haven’t been in a while …’ His jaw tenses and he swallows. ‘I’d really like to show you.’
Our eyes are locked on each other’s and I realise I’ve not bli
nked in what seems like a long time. It’s probably just a few seconds. When I do blink, it breaks the moment.
I force a smile. ‘Great, let’s go.’
2010
‘You go on in and help your mum, you know she’ll be flapping. I’ll unload the car,’ Kev says, kissing me on my cheek.
‘Are you sure? You’ll be there ages. I think you’ve completely emptied Waitrose out today,’ I laugh. Kev never does things by halves. ‘In fact, leave a couple of bottles of white in the boot, oh, and one of the tubes of Pringles – we’ll take some of it home. It’ll never get eaten today.’
He laughs and shakes his head a little but doesn’t argue.
‘I’ll see you in a min.’ I kiss him, and inhale his scent. He smells of the fancy aftershave I bought him last Christmas; oud, bergamot and lemon. I don’t want to be apart from him for a second.
Tearing myself away, I leave him repacking all the shopping that has spewed from his over-filled carrier bags and scattered across the boot, and make my way down the side of my mum and dad’s house. As I unlatch the gate, the sound of my name jars me, stopping me from walking around the corner of the house.
‘She’s still young,’ I hear my mum say.
‘They’re so besotted with one another though,’ my dad says.
‘I love Kev, I really do. But he’s just so reckless. The way he drives that bike around …’ My mum tails off.
‘I know,’ my dad mutters. ‘I thought he’d calm down after a year or two. Booking a holiday to Mexico with two days’ notice is one thing – it’s exciting, I get it – but then he gets her to quit her job and then he talks about wanting to move abroad every time they come back off holiday. I think he’s getting worse.’
‘And she wants children now too, she’s said as much,’ my mum butts in. ‘God, we’ll never see our grandkids if Kev has his way and they go gallivanting abroad.’
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