The Guardian Read Online Free PDF Page B

workingmen, but she seemed to lose interest in them quickly, then promptly forget they'd even asked.
    In the past three months, she'd been out with seven different men, thirty-one tattoos, six Harleys, two parole violations, and zero jobs, and right now she was feeling a little sorry for herself. On Saturday, she'd had to pay for dinner and the movie because her date didn't have any money, but had he called this morning? No. Of course not. He wouldn't think of calling her today. Her dates never called, unless they needed money or were "feeling a little lonely," as so many of them liked to put it.
    But Richard had called the shop this morning, asking for Julie.
    Even worse, Julie probably didn't have to buy him dinner to get him to do it. Why, she wondered, did Julie get all the good guys? It wasn't as if she dressed well. Half the time she looked downright plain, what with her jeans and baggy sweaters and-let's be frank here-ugly shoes. She didn't exactly go out of the way to flatter her figure, her nails weren't manicured, and she wasn't tan at all, except in the summer, and anyone could do that. So why had Richard been so taken with Julie? They had both been here when Richard walked into the salon for a haircut last week, they both had a break in their appointments, and they both looked up and said hi at the same time. But Richard had asked Julie to cut his hair instead of her, and somehow that had led to a date. Andrea frowned just thinking about it.
    "Ouch!"
    Brought back to the present by the yelp, Andrea glanced at her customer's reflection in the mirror. He was a lawyer, in his early thirties. He was also rubbing his head. Andrea pulled her hands back.
    "What happened, sugar?"
    "You jabbed my head with the scissors."
    "I did?"
    "Yeah. It hurt."
    Andrea's lashes fluttered. "I'm sorry, sugar. I didn't mean to hurt you. You're not mad at me, are you?"
    "No . . . not really," he said finally, pulling his hand away. Looking in the mirror again, he studied the job she was doing. "Don't you think my hair looks a little lopsided?"
    "Where?"
    "Here." He pointed with his finger. "You cut this sideburn way too short."
    Andrea blinked twice, then slowly tilted her head from one side to the other. "I think the mirror's crooked."
    "The mirror?" he repeated.
    She put one hand on his shoulder and smiled. "Well, I think you look handsome, sugar."
    "You do?"
    Across the room, near the window, Mabel looked up from her magazine. The man, she noticed, was practically melting into the chair. She shook her head as Andrea started cutting again. After a moment, feeling reassured, the man sat up a little straighter.
    "Listen, I've got tickets to see Faith Hill in Raleigh in a couple of weeks," he said. "I was just wondering if you'd like to go."
    Unfortunately, Andrea's mind was back on Richard and Julie again. Mabel had told her that they'd gone to the Slocum House. The Slocum House! She knew, though she'd never been there before, that the Slocum House was a fancy restaurant, the kind of place where there were candles on the table. And they hung your coat for you, if you needed it, in its own special room. And there were cloth tablecloths, not those cheap plastic ones with the red-and-white checkerboard pattern. Her dates had never taken her to a place like that. They probably couldn't even find places like that.
    "I'm sorry, but I can't," she answered automatically.
    Knowing Richard (though, of course, she didn't know Richard at all), he'd probably send flowers, too. Maybe even roses. Red roses! In her mind, she could see it clearly. Why did Julie get all the good ones?
    "Oh," the man said.
    The way he said it brought Andrea back again. "Excuse me?" she asked.
    "Nothing. I just said, oh."
    Andrea had no idea what he was talking about. When in doubt, she thought, smile. And she did. After a moment, the man began melting again.
    In the corner, Mabel stifled a laugh.
    Mabel saw Julie come through the door a minute after Singer had entered. She