Sam looked relieved, but again, I might’ve been imagining that. Wishful thinking is a powerful thing.
‘Sorry,’ he said, sounding anything but, as he smiled at me.
‘No need,’ I replied. ‘It was amicable. We’re still friends.’ Why did I keep saying that? Ted and I were unlikely to hang out together now that we had split up.
‘Sam,’ said Jenna, tugging his arm with hers. ‘We’ll be late. Come on.’
‘Table twenty-four,’ the waitress called out. ‘Your table’s ready.’
‘I’ve got to go,’ said Sam, his gaze fixed on my face.
‘My table’s ready,’ I replied, standing in his way.
‘It was so good to see you again, Lucy.’
‘It was good to see you too, Sam.’
He lingered for a moment and then he smiled and stepped to the side of me.
‘And I’d love that drink,’ I quickly added. ‘If you still want to catch up.’
‘I do,’ he said eagerly, beaming at me, as Jenna glowered at us both.
I suppose I shouldn’t have sounded quite so keen. But what was the point in pretending? I’d told myself over the years that if I ever did see Sam again, I’d act cool and uninterested. I’d be aloof and mysterious, or some such rubbish like that. Instead, I’d jumped at the first opportunity to spend some time with him. I didn’t know if he was single, dating Jenna, or even married. Maybe I should’ve asked. And perhaps I should’ve felt guilty, but I didn’t. I reeled off my number and he tapped it into his phone. I just hoped, if we did meet for a drink, he didn’t bring Jenna with him.
‘I’ll call you later,’ he said.
‘I can’t wait,’ I replied.
‘Sam!’ Jenna snapped.
He sighed. ‘I’ve got to go, Lucy. Enjoy your lunch. I’ll see you soon.’
‘I hope so, Sam.’
And once again, as I had done ten years ago, I watched him walk away from me – but this time he had a stunningly beautiful woman hanging onto his arm. A woman I could never compete with.
And yet, this time there was more than a smidgen of hope in my heart, especially when he turned to look back at me and he smiled that devastating smile, before Jenna literally dragged him out of the door.
Ten
The last thing I wanted to do now was eat.
What I really wanted to do was call Erin and tell her all about bumping into Sam. But I remembered she was on shift this afternoon and all evening, and unfortunately for me, solving serious crimes took precedence over my love life.
Instead, I followed the waitress as we weaved our way through the restaurant to a table by the window. I removed my jacket and hung it over the back of my chair, having slipped my scarf and gloves into one of the large, side pockets. Once seated I read the menu, my mind still half on Sam and Jenna and only partly on what I wanted for lunch.
Eventually, I ordered skate in a samphire sauce with winter vegetables and chips, together with a large glass of white wine. Then I stared out of the window, at nothing in particular, as people walked along the promenade in both directions, and the greeny-blue sea beyond gently lapped at the sandy shore of Fairlight Bay.
My skin tingled and my heart beat faster as I remembered the days and nights I’d spent with Sam on that beach, and in severalother places, and how wonderful it had felt to have Sam’s arms around me. Was there even the slightest possibility that I might feel those strong yet tender arms around me again, anytime soon?
Jenna was far, far prettier than me. There was no point in denying that. And so much sexier than I could ever hope to be. Plus, she and Sam were clearly in some sort of relationship, otherwise she wouldn’t have slipped her arm through his. And they were obviously going somewhere together – somewhere neither of them wanted to be late for, so that wasn’t looking good for me.
And yet, Sam hadn’t introduced her as his girlfriend, and from the way she had behaved, I was fairly certain that, if she had been his girlfriend, she wouldn’t have hesitated to say so. All she had said was that I might have a boyfriend. She hadn’t said, ‘Sam, I’m your girlfriend and you shouldn’t be asking other women out for a drink.’ Or anything along those lines.
Although, Sam hadn’t asked me out, exactly, he’d merely suggested we should go for a drink to catch up. Perhaps that didn’t bother Jenna, and she would hardly see me as competition.
Of course, he might not even call. Men often said they’d call and then didn’t, in my experience. And in Erin’s. It was something that bugged us both.
