At the entrance of the familiar-looking building, Evie paused. Apprehension danced up her spine as she recognized she had been here once already. She double-checked the address, scrolled on the door. Ironically, it was the same building from her first failed flatshare.
“I’m on the fourth floor,”
They walked up to the flat, and Evie was given a tour. The flat was outfitted with a galley kitchen, a tiny combined living-dining area that was smartly decorated with an entertainment unit, a two-seater couch, and a compact table and chairs. It was immaculately clean, and even though it was small, the space was uncluttered. Better still was the balcony.
A sliding door opened onto a six by five deck with a glass railing, offering a view of the beautiful canal directly below, as well as the brightly coloured businesses on the opposite side. The old architecture of the row-style buildings reminded Evie of the beauty and history that Connie had shown her, and beyond, if she squinted, she could see the haze of the North Sea.
Evie ran her hand along the top of the balcony railing, breathing the faint smell of sea salt on the air. The outdoor space was shielded from the rain by the balcony above, making it a perfect escape from the confines of the small flat. As Serena pointed out a sunshine yellow Italian restaurant beside a baby blue café and a soft pink florist next to a fish and chip shop, Evie knew without question that this could be her new home.
“Isn’t it bonnie? I never get tired of this view.”
Serena invited Evie back inside to see the bedrooms. The bubbly girl’s voice grew quiet now, and Evie instantly picked up on the shift in volume.
There was a catch.
Of course, the redhead groused internally, admonishing herself for getting her hopes up. I should have known it was too good to be true. There is no way I would be that lucky.
“So…the bedrooms.” The girl tried to sound chipper as they went back inside.
“There are two rooms…” Serena explained as they peered in the first room by the front door. It snuggly fit a bunk bed and a single bed. Surprisingly, it also had a small three-piece en suite.
But why so many beds? The room was bright and clean and white. Fresh flowers stood on a nightstand, and beside a framed sign of the Wi-Fi password was a tray of chocolates.
Serena cleared her throat, before explaining, “I quit workin’ a year ago because I was making more hosting. I let this room out online to tourists or business visitors.”
Jobless? That thought hit Evie hard in the gut, knocking the butterflies of good luck and excitement out of her midsection. Evie gave a resigned sigh.
They walked out of the guest room and checked out the other three-piece bathroom, before coming to a smaller room just off the kitchen. It was not hard to surmise that they would be sharing this space, and it was even harder to imagine how that was possible until Serena opened the door. The redhead beheld a slightly smaller room with two single beds, much like a dorm room.
Evie didn’t want to go in, dread cemented her feet to the floor, as her mind concocted a long list of all the problems with this living scenario. As she scrolled through them, Serena tried to soothe her obvious distress with a rambling statement of the facts. “The guests come and go as they please, without much disturbance. They really aren’t here much. During the day, they are out exploring and touring and doing their thing, returning for a wee kip before doing it all over again the next day. I provide them with minimal kitchen amenities: coffee, tea, a spot in the fridge for takeaway…you willna even know they’re here.”
Evie felt her teeth apprehensively teasing at her bottom lip, as she tried to mentally clear the negatives from her mind, so she could see the positives. The scrolling list was much shorter. She would save some cash, not having to purchase furniture, as the place was fully outfitted with everything she would need. It was move-in ready.
Would it really be that bad?
Serena continued to ply her with convincing reasons. What looked like a traditional-western closet, was, in fact, a pair of floor-to-ceiling wardrobes. One was empty, with more than enough space for Evie’s things. The other was filled with neatly arranged items, the hanging clothes colour-coded and the shoes in little mesh cases for easy access.
When the redhead didn’t respond, Serena gave a sympathetic harrumph and all but pleaded her case, “Look, Evie, it isn’t that drogh. Honest! I dinna snore or make a mess.”
Evie couldn’t find any words to respond, so she just nodded at the other girl as she left the bedroom.
“Alright, then. I’m gonna make a cuppa tea, and you take yerself another look-see.” Serena kindly offered, suggesting, “Then we’ll enjoy some wee treats on the patio.”
Evie sighed and turned back to the tiny room again. It certainly was not an ideal arrangement. Though, she considered, it could be worse. She went over to the bed against the wall that would be hers if she wanted it. It was under a window that filled the room with light. The comforter on the bed was the same as the guest room, white and spotless, with a subtle satin striping. The covers were turned down, like in a hotel, and the girl sat down. She bounced a few times, as though testing the mattress would improve her mood or help her decide. After a moment, she laid back and let out a huff as she cursed about what a shit day it was turning out to be.
Scotland wasn’t making things easy on her.
That thought made her smirk at herself. It was hard to believe now that she had been so naïve when leaving her home. How could she have thought that this life-changing transition would be a blissful transformation? Changing was hard. So was growing and learning, which had been the core truth of why she had left. It was true that her day had been chuck full of irrationally absurd events that left her utterly discombobulated, but they were not inherently evil.
Evie had thought that she had been given a raw deal, that she was cursed with a streak of bad luck and ill fortune, but that was only true if she allowed it to be her reality. The girl had never prided herself on being overly optimistic, for she was a rationalist a heart, but the truth was this flatshare could be what she really needed to accomplish change in her life. It was new and different, sure. That’s what made it uncomfortable. Maybe she could learn something by letting go of all her fears and preconceptions.
Serena seemed honest and genuine. She certainly was a very independent and capable woman, by the degree of care she took with her home and the business she had made of it. Evie admired the clothes in the closet, perfectly organized by colour and length. It spoke to her fastidious nature to have a like-minded flatmate.
Evie sat up, a fingernail between her teeth. When she finally noticed she was chewing, she scoffed at herself. Typical me, she chided, interminably indecisive…and all because I didn’t plan it.
The kettle whistling broke the redhead of her roundabout thoughts. Evie drew in a fortifying breath and got to her feet. She took one last long look at the two beds, separated by a mere three feet before heading out to the kitchen. She found Serena preparing a teapot with loose tea leaves.
In a stolid voice, Evie declared, “I’ll take it.”
4
“Evie! You’re alive and well!”
“I’m alive.” The optician replied with a fake smile.
Evie didn’t feel alive. She felt like the undead. A walking talking zombie.
After agreeing to the flatshare with the effervescent Serena, Evie had gone back to the pub to collect her things. Rockstar took pity on her plight and let her check out a day early, even though it was late in the afternoon. The prudent old man did, however, ask how she had faired on the town with the roguish Scot, and even though she gave a null answer to be polite, Rockstar Roy’s telltale grin had her scuttling back to her new flat, shamefaced.
Evie acquainted herself with her new living quarters. She unpacked her things, tossed her cosmetics into the bathroom, before settling in a chair on the deck with her smartphone and another cup of tea. The redhead had popped another pain killer to dull the return of her hangover hea
dache, but it was her mood that was suffering the worst. Rockstar’s reminder of her failed love affair was just the icing on a very shitty cake.
“Ah hell, babe… you look like a dog’s breakfast.” The Aussie pointed out, making her even more aggravated with having answered his video-chat. She was glad she was wearing her earbuds.
“You’ve been put through the wringer.”
“Pretty much,” She retorted, trying to make it sarcastic. It just sounding snappy.
“Did you find yourself a place to stay?”
Evie sighed, finding it hard to be excited about this useful bit of fortune when she was so sour about last nights, debacle, “Yeah, I did actually.”
The girl took a moment to try to reset her mood. Andy did not deserve her anger and frustration. She closed her eyes and took her time, mentally counting to three. When Evie opened them, the Aussie was raking a hand back through his waves, looking as put out as she felt. She should have never dropped the fake smile.
To make amends, Evie shrugged and light-heartedly admitted, “I met up with someone at the mall and, it’s not much, but I’m not homeless.”
“That’s how people get abducted,”
“I wasn’t abducted. I answered a legit flatshare ad.” Evie corrected, “Serena is feisty, but she is barely five feet and probably weighs next to nothing. I wasn’t worried she was going to drug me and haul me off.”
“Well, if you do get abducted,” The surfer joked, “I better get your Stargate DVDs.”
“If I get abducted,” she laughed, “I’ll know you had something to do with it just so you could get my DVDs.”
Evie shook her head, adding, “No one even watches DVD’s anymore.”
“I watch them!” Andy hastily snapped, accusing, “Are you insinuating that I’m geriatric?”
“You pointed that out all by yourself,” she retaliated with a snicker.
The two continued to chat for another thirty minutes, skirting around the disasters that permeated her debunked metamorphose. She avoided mentioning anything that related to the Gaelic god and the big mistake that subject included, but she still suspected Andy was on to her. His uncanny ability to read her feelings better than she could hide them was galling.
“Seriously, Evie…what happened?”
The redhead groaned loudly. She narrowed her eyes at her friend, accusatorily. Evie didn’t want to share her failure, so new and so raw as it was, but Andy was the one person who might understand.
“This whole thing has gone horribly wrong,” she began, her eyes downcast away from the phone. Evie couldn’t believe she was doing this. Telling him—telling anyone! But she needed it out. She couldn’t keep it pent up inside anymore. “I met someone…and…I shouldn’t have. I knew that it was a mistake, but I don’t know, things just…happened and…”
The surfer’s brow wrinkled in shock, his mouth falling slightly agape. She faltered—not wanting to say what her guilt-stricken mind was trying to substitute. So, I totally slept with this amazingly-breathtakingly-beautiful man, who also happened to be totally sweet and romantic and super-intelligent, and now I’ll probably never ever see him again…because I’m stupid. So freakin’ stupid—and I ran out on him, without getting more than his name!
Andy didn’t need her to say it. He got the picture.
“Ooooohh,”
“Yeah,” she affirmed, her eyes wide as she gave an exaggerated nod of her head, “I’ve made such a mess of things!”
Evie winced, cupping her temples with her hands like blinders, just trying to move forward through the resurfacing hurt and emotions. “It was awkward. Terribly, terribly, awkward.”
Still, she felt lighter with it no longer trapped inside of her and the rest of it soon followed. “It had been so great, Andy, you have no idea. He toured me around Edinburgh, the Royal Mile, and took me dancing! Me! Dancing! And, he was funny and smart and so-so-soooo ridiculously good looking. I just…”
Evie struggled to keep the last little bit in—the viscerally raw thoughts about herself that she didn’t want to ever be spoken aloud—but they demanded to be released, to be told, to be out of her. She was saying them before she could stop her mouth from forming the words. “I just couldn’t understand what he could possibly see in me. I couldn’t face seeing his disappointment when he woke up…beside me.”
“Hey-hey, now,” Andy’s voice coaxed her attention back. His eyes were earnest as he stared into hers as he genuinely defended, “it’s his loss. A dude like that is probably a bloody wanker anyway. All suave on the outside and douche bag on the inside.”
Evie tried to listen, decided to let his sincere appraisal sink in, but she quite honestly didn’t believe it. She never had. She just couldn’t. She was none of the things that he said she was. She was boring and plain and unoriginal. That was why the guys she dated always started out hot and heavy, then dropped her. She was never interesting enough to keep them coming back.
Evie felt her emotions running away with her common sense. Her eyes itched with the welling of fresh tears that she did want to shed. This day just wouldn’t end! It just kept getting better and better.
Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t you dare start crying, she chastened herself. You are not allowed to cry. If you start crying, you’re going to pack up and catch the next flight back home. That is not an option. Suck it up, Buttercup!
Evie sucked in a deep breath and managed to collect herself. She propped her chin in her hand, trying not to pout. It was ridiculous to get this bent out of shape over a man she had only known for a night. She needed to forget about all of this and turn her mind back around to her new job, which started in T minus 14 hours, 18 minutes, and 32 seconds.
The optician knew that first impressions with a new employer were everything. You needed to walk in professional and confident, ready to show your knowledge and skill level. It was even more critical seeing she had flown halfway around the world to prove herself.
When her mind finally came back from the dark side of her emotions, it was to the one-sided conversation playing in her ears. Andy was still ranting about all the reasons why she was any man’s dream come true, “…and your favourite show is Stargate bloody SG-1! What bloke could ask for more than that? I mean, I would give anything to say to a girl, ‘Let’s watch SG-1’ and have her say ‘SG-1? Oh, yes, let’s. That’s my fave!’”
Andy was using his all-encompassing female voice, which was a pitch too high and cracked horribly. What was even funnier was the fact that he lowered his voice a whole octave below his normal tenor when he was role-playing himself in the narrative. “Instead, typically when I suggest it, I usually get the snide, ‘SG-what? Is that the MacGyver returns show?’ and I’m like, ‘well, yes and no. Richard Dean Anderson is in it, but he’s way cockier and minus the mullet so…’”
Evie was laughing at this point, and Andy stopped his on-going monologue to smile at her.
“There! See, I knew you had it in ya.” he crowed with triumph.
For some reason, Evie took stock of his surroundings just then. It was unusual because, behind him, she could see what looked like a big-wig CEO’s office. He was reclined in a chair before a custom bookshelf and a wall dotted with plaques and certificates. As she thought about where he might be, she worked out that it was close to 10:00 p.m. in Australia.
“Where are you?”
The question made her surf-slacker stiffen. Andy’s blond head gave a comical swivel to glance around him as he scrambled to explain, “Oh, um, I’m in…my dad’s office. Yeah, he’s away, and I was called in to, you know, sit the place, I guess.”
That seemed off. Her surf slacker acting as a responsible son? Evie wasn’t sure she believed him.
“They trusted you not to take off? You know, for the call of the waves and all.”
“I guess so,” Andy’s laugh was full as he racked again at those golden waves. “I’m on my best behaviour. They’re off for a bit. Business type stuff. So, I’m stuck. However, there are
waves close enough, so I can at least deal with the itch if need be.”
“Must be nice to live that close to the ocean,”
It was nice that the conversation had shifted away from her. Evie needed the reprieve. When she thought about it, they really had not shared too much about their families in their meandering discussions. Evie was surprised to see that his father had such a nice office. How many people had a home office that loaded with books and… was that a custom display case in the background?
Andy hardly ever mentioned his parents, so she had assumed, due to his lifestyle, that he didn't have much to do with them—maybe that had been a little presumptuous. She mentioned her parents and brothers now and again, but she couldn’t recall Andy ever really talking much about his family…
Seeing Colour Page 6