Why Am I Here
EVREN
“Can I pour you another, sir?”
I’ve been staring into the bottom of my glass, hoping it’ll open a portal to the hell realm I can disappear into. That would be preferable to this circus on the sea I’m currently sitting on.
Echoes of my mother’s voice ring in my ears
“You never relax.” “When’s the last time you took a vacation?” “You’re never going to find a mate if you don’t get out of the office.” “You’re always so busy, come on the cruise with us.” “It’ll be fun!”
Fun. Sure, it might have been fun had my parents not bailed on me at the last minute.
Bailed isn’t really the right term. It’s not their fault that their flights from overseas got delayed and they missed their connection.
It just would have been nice to have known that prior to the ship setting sail…
with me on it…for ten fucking wretched days.
Had I known, I’d have disembarked and headed home. Of all the “relaxing” things we could have done for a family vacation, a cruise doesn’t even make the list.
Water and I are not friends. More importantly, I do not have time for this. I have a company to run, people who depend on me, and clients to keep happy. It took time to build the trust and relationships my firm depends on for its success.
“Make it a double,” I tell the small human bartender who is trying to discreetly study my horns but failing miserably.
The bartender complies and pours me a double before moving down to the next person.
I shift in my seat and take in my surroundings.
The lounge where the mixer is being held is a two-story club.
There are disco balls and streamers everywhere.
The mirrored dance floor and pulsing club music only add to my feeling of displacement and sour my mood further.
With the intimate, small booths and tables, this feels more like a speed-dating event than a meet-and-greet.
As if I hadn’t been to enough of those last year. A year's worth of speed dating events, also courtesy of my mother, and I could spot the setup. Why my mother can’t just buy me a tie, I’ll never understand.
At least if this were speed-dating, there’d be a chance of finding someone. Not a thought I choose to acknowledge, and certainly not one I will be sharing with my mother. Ever.
Throwing back my drink, I watch the crowd mingle and dance, happily chatting away and enjoying themselves. It’s a great mix of humans and monsters, and if I really wanted to, I could slip into a conversation.
But I don’t.
I want to go home. To my business. Away from open water.
Looking down the bar, I signal the bartender for another and resume watching the crowd. More mingling, more dancing, more drinking, more of me having zero interest in being here.
I’m ready to knock back my drink and call it a night before the polite and flirty tipsy goes into handsy drunk when the most intoxicating scent hits me. It’s floral, like hibiscus mixed with citrus.
My eyes search the crowd for the source of the mouthwatering aroma. It takes me several minutes, but I finally spot her. A voluptuous redhead, making her way through the crowd towards the bar.
Never have I seen such a beautiful woman in all my long days.
Not tall, maybe five-five. Hourglass figure with curves in all the right places, wrapped in a stunning green dress that accentuates her gorgeous figure.
A waist made to grip and thighs I could picture wrapped around my head.
Coppery hair, the color of the fire that runs through my veins, sways around her as she moves through the crowd.
A few wild strands frame her face, drawing my attention.
Full pouty lips, a slender nose, and vibrant blue eyes.
Stunning.
Once she reaches the bar, she pauses and looks around the room before turning her attention to me.
“You look about as thrilled about being here as I feel,” she says with a bemused smile.
“And how do you feel about being here?” I ask casually
She deadpans, “Like I’d rather be at work.”
A deep laugh erupts from me as the sassy redhead gives me a smile.
“May I?” She asks, indicating the empty seat next to me.
“Please. Drink?”
Taking a look around at our surroundings, she turns back to me and says, “Definitely.”
I grab the bartender's attention once again. “A single for me and whatever my workaholic friend here would like.”
“Hey,” she says with an easy smile, lightly slapping my arm. “Takes one to know one, buddy. I’ll have a lemon drop martini.”
The bartender pours me another bourbon and begins making her drink.
I stick my hand out to her. “I’m Evran.”
She slips her delicate hand in mine, and I watch in fascination as my giant red hand engulfs her small, silky, soft one.
“Kallie.”
“Nice to meet you, Kallie.”
“You too,” she says, releasing my hand and taking a sip of the drink the bartender sets in front of her.
“What brings you on a cruise?” She asks
I let out an exasperated sigh, making her giggle.
“That good?”
“My mother.”
She lets out a low whistle, and I nod. “It was supposed to be a family vacation. I work so much and never take time off, all according to my mother, mind you, and this was supposed to be uninterrupted family time. Unfortunately, they were coming from overseas, and there were delays in their flights due to weather, so they didn’t make it. ”
“Well, that sucks,” she says, before taking a sip of her drink. I watch in fascination as she licks the sugar off the rim. My mouth runs dry as I imagine what it would feel like to have her lick me like that.
Shutting down the thoughts, I take a sip of my own drink. “What about you?”
Kallie lets out a heavy sigh. “My sister. She insisted after the last, well, two years I’ve had, I deserved a cruise.”
There’s a hint of bitterness in her tone, but it’s the flash of sadness in her eyes that draws my attention. What could have happened that her sister forced her onto a cruise?
Kallie takes a deep drink and seems to shake off whatever is haunting her. Smile returning, she cocks her head and asks, “So what business are you counting the seconds down to get back to?”
“I own an investment firm.”
She lets out a low whistle. “Impressive.”
I give a light nod, angling my body towards her. She mirrors my action and leans in slightly.
“What about you?” I ask, enjoying the new angle that highlights the swell of her cleavage.
“Not as impressive as you, I’m afraid,” she says with a shy smile before sipping her drink.
For some reason, the way she shies away, as if she’s afraid she won't be good enough, makes me unhappy.
“Tell me,” I prompt, nudging her leg with mine. I wish I could feel the skin of her bare leg. I’d bet one of my most lucrative accounts that it feels like smooth silk.
“I’m a florist. I own a small flower shop in my hometown.” Again, there’s a note of insecurity in her voice.
“How is that not impressive?”
She looks generally shocked at my question. After a moment of silence, she asks, “You’re serious?”
I nod. “Absolutely.”
“You own an investment firm, and you think my flower shop is impressive?”
“I do.”
“Why?” she asks.
“I use computers to help me analyze data. You create arrangements and center pieces, I assume?”
She nods, so I continue, “I crunch numbers, you create beauty. That’s harder. So yes, I do in fact think that’s impressive.”
It takes a beat, but I’m gifted with a soft smile.
“Thank you,” she says, placing a delicate hand on top of mine. “It’s been a long time since someone other than my sister said something so nice about my business.”
Soft and smooth as silk, with an electric current pulsing beneath the casual touch. Her hand lingers a moment before she withdraws it.
I give her a smile that I hope doesn’t scare her off, given my slightly elongated canines. So far, my scarlet red skin, orange eyes, and large curved horns haven’t done so.
“Just speaking the truth.”
She hums her agreement, eyes running all over my face. It may be the liquor, but I swear there’s heat in her gaze.
I raise my glass, and she follows suit. “To meddling families.”
“To meddling families,” she says with a playful smile on her lush lips.
We both finish our drinks and set the glasses down as a voice booms over the speaker system.
“Attention Mixers! It seems we have outgrown our current space and, more importantly, our dance floor. We’ll be relocating to the larger event room one floor below. Grab your drinks, and let’s take this party on the go!”
Kallie looks at me and cringes as I look at her and grimace. We both laugh.
“That’s my cue,” she says, standing. “Thank you for the drink and the conversation.”
“Bailing on me already?” I say casually, though I don’t want her to leave.
She casts a mischievous look at me. “Maybe I’ll see you around the ship. Goodnight, Evren.”
“Goodnight, Kallie,” I say.
Challenge accepted.