Page 94 of Cut up
“Hmm,” he muses. “It doesn’t sound like it’s right for you. But… I do think owning a salon is the right move. Have you thought about opening your own place?”
That’s the dream. But could I actually do it?
“Of course I have. But I don’t even know where to start.”
“I have an idea,” he says, suddenly energized. “Get dressed and meet me in the car in ten minutes. I’m taking you for a drive.” He climbs out of bed, and I laugh, suspicious. “Okay…”
We drive along the waterfront esplanade, windows down.
The smell of sea salt fills my nose, and the rhythmic sound of waves soothes my soul.
I stare out at the beach to my left—families laughing, waves rolling in—and then to my right, admiring the cute shopfronts that line the street.
I’ve always loved this part of town. It’s not far from Lucas’s place.
He pulls over and parks, then comes around to open my door.
“Can you tell me what we’re doing now?” I ask nervously. He’s saidnothing during the ride here.
“I wanted to show you something,” he replies, pointing at a charming old building currently under renovation.
“Cute,” I say slowly. “Um… what for?” I think I know where he’s going with this, but he’s insane if he thinks I could open a salon here.
He takes my hand, and we walk across the road.
“This could be yours. Can you imagine how beautiful a salon would look here?” He gestures toward the building, trying to get me to see what he sees.
And I do. Of course I do. A girl can dream.
“That would be a dream come true… but I’d be kidding myself if I thought I could ever afford it. Plus, I bet a million other businesses will be fighting for it when the renovations are done.”
“Well. Luckily we know the owner.” Then, casually, he walks up to the door and pulls out a key.
My jaw drops. I’m in shock. What does he mean? Someone we know?
Him? Of course, it would be him.
“Excuse me, do you own this place?” I question him before I follow him inside.
It’s beautiful, light and bright. The windows have a beautiful view of the bay. The timber floors have just been redone, the walls painted a creamy white. It’s a blank canvas. I could imagine working here, the lighting, the vibes. This is my dream. I can see it all now. The stations could be over to the left and the basins to the back. My desk right here near the big open windows at the front.
“Yeah, it’s mine. I bought it ages ago for a steal, it was falling apart at the time and I’ve been slowly doing it up. When I’m done I wanted to put it up for rent. It’s almost done. What do you think?” He says it with his arms open, showing me the space like it’s a present, just for me.
“Lucas, it’s beautiful. It’s perfect. This is exactly the space I dreamtof. But I could never afford what you would be asking for rent though. Plus don’t you already have people lining up for the space?” I say as I look around.
“I do,” he says with a shrug, “but it’s my space. I can choose who gets it. If it’s you, we could work out a price that works—something manageable. I want you to have your dream, Camille. Is this what you want?” I stare up at him, overwhelmed, his hands warm around mine.
“Of course it is,” I whisper. “But Lucas, I’d still have to buy all the furniture, colours—everything. I don’t know if I can afford to start from scratch.”
“How much do you have saved?”
“Eight thousand. It’s maybe just enough to cover what I’d need to start… but it would wipe me out completely.” I shake my head.
“Angel, you can do this. Once you’re up and running, the money will come back quick. I’ll help you finish getting the space ready—you just focus on what you need to buy. Let me help you.Please.”
I’ve always done everything on my own. Paid the bills. Fixed what broke. Kept moving, even when I was exhausted. I used to think needing someone made me weak.
But then Lucas showed up. Not to fix me, not to take over, but to be there. To carry a little of it with me. For the first time, I don’t feel like I have to hold it all together alone. Maybe strength isn’t about never needing help. Maybe it’s about trusting someone enough to accept it.
