9 Cutter #2
Because that seems to be the most popular gathering spot, I move to the opposite side of the room.
That’s when I notice a doorway into what looks like a den.
Warm walnut walls and wooden beams contrast sharply with the airiness of the rest of the house.
A stone fireplace dances with flames, and several people are seated on the low-slung couches around it.
The vibe looks more inviting, but I’d be even more noticeable in there.
“Do you hate these things as much as I do?” a female voice asks from behind me.
I turn around. She’s tall, with long brown hair and soft hazel eyes. I’d guess her age to be close to my own. Unlike the other women here in their slinky, barely-there dresses, she’s wearing loose white slacks and a green cashmere sweater. She looks…elegant.
“It is that obvious?” I ask.
“You’re walking around with full shields up.”
I quirk a brow. “Was that a scifi reference?”
She glances around like she’s about to spill a juicy secret. “You caught me. I’m actually a big ol’ nerd.” She holds her hand out to me. “Evelyn Carrick. Evie to my friends–which I hope to convince you to become.”
Carrick? Like the banks, I wonder. My hand closes around hers. “Cutter Knight.”
“Hmm.” She peeks over my shoulder. “I don’t see your white horse.”
It’s a tired joke but for some reason she makes it seem fresh. “Would you settle for a black motorcycle?”
I’ll admit the Hayabusa is my prize possession. I bought it as a reward for myself when I got my one year sober coin. I wanted something fast and unique, and while my reasoning wasn’t influenced by whether or not it would be a chick magnet, it’s a nice perk.
Not that I’ve ever taken advantage of it.
She smiles. “Well, well, Cutter Knight, you just rescued what was setting up to be another boring night. Maybe some time I can talk you into taking me for a ride.”
I bite my tongue before saying the first thing that pops into my head, which is that I work most of the time. Instead I manage something along the lines of “I’d love to.”
Look at me, actually chatting up a beautiful woman at a party.
“Come on, I know a quiet place where we can have a meaningful conversation.”
Before I can object, she leads me across the room to a metal staircase.
We go down a flight of stairs into what looks like another living room.
There are a few people down here, mostly bent close and conversing quietly.
We pass among them and she slides a glass door open onto a more rustic deck and that stunning view.
There are several Adirondack chairs arranged around a gas fire pit. Oddly there’s no one else out here.
She sits down and indicates for me to join her. “Now tell me, how did you find yourself here tonight. This doesn’t look like your scene.”
I shrug. “No, it’s not. I was threatened with a good time by my boss.”
Her brow arches. “Threatened? Who is this boss?”
I laugh. “It’s not like that. I guess he’s just worried about me.”
“Are you in danger?”
It’s such an unlikely question that it throws me for a minute. “Not unless you call becoming a hermit dangerous.”
“For someone like you, I would.”
I ask before I think. “What do you mean?”
She offers a sly smile. “Fishing for compliments, are we?”
“No. I mean, I wouldn’t…I’m not…”
She laughs. “Relax. I have a weird sense of humor. But you have to know how good you look. I’m surprised you made it that far into the house without being claimed.”
Now I’m even more tongue-tied. “Well, there were two girls outside…”
“Shiny dresses? Look like the Olsen twins? Chloe and Vanna.” She rolls her eyes. “Harmless unless you’re the next big thing.”
“I don’t think I am.”
“Oh, you’d know if you were. They’re influencers. I don’t know why Selena insists on inviting them to every party. I guess she just wants the pub.”
“Selena?” Isn’t that the name of the woman Daryl said he was seeing?
“That’s whose house you’re in. And luckily–or unluckily, depending on how you look at it–I happen to be her older and much less popular sister.”
“You live here?”
She shrugs. “Temporarily, though it seems to keep being extended.” She doesn’t sound happy about that.
“Well, I’ve never met your sister, though apparently she’s close to my boss.”
“Wait, are you talking about Daryl Hart?”
“Yeah.”
She makes a face. “Daryl’s a sweetheart. I tried to warn him away from her since she’ll end up tossing him aside like she does everyone else.” Her eyes widen as she seems to remember who I am. “Oops, probably shouldn’t have said that, though it’s nothing I haven’t told him myself.”
As Daryl’s friend, I should be looking out for him, but I doubt there’s any danger of him getting his heart broken. As far as I have seen, Daryl doesn’t do feelings. I’m sure Selena is another casual fling.
“I don’t think you need to worry about him. He’s a popular guy.”
“And what about you?” she asks. “Are you a popular guy?”
I snort. “Hardly.”
“Don’t sell yourself short. I’m sure the right woman could bring you out of your shell.”
I frown. I had the right woman. Or at least, I thought I did. Didn’t do me much good.