thirteen days in a locked cell. I have a brother who hates me for that and more. I wish I could undo it all but I can’t. Some things just aren’t fixable. And you should know something else, Evie. This is the longest conversation I’ve had with a pretty girl in four god damn years.”
I listened for her gasp. I watched for her to shuffle uncomfortably and back away. She didn’t do either one. She looked down at herself and smoothed her palms over her dress.
“I love this dress,” she said cheerfully, as if I hadn’t just unloaded a ton of bad history all over her. “Were you at the wedding, Stone? I didn’t see you there. I would have noticed.”
The cloud uncovered the moon once more. The added light gave me an even clearer view of Evie. She was all cuteness, soft hair and petite curves. An age-old lust started to stir. I pushed it back into oblivion. She was just being polite.
“No, I wasn’t at the wedding. I work for Cappie’s Party Rentals. We set up all the tables and chairs for the reception. I’m just waiting around for the party to end so I can clean up.”
Evie nodded. “I was a bridesmaid. Briana’s always had a thing for the Roaring Twenties and she wanted her wedding to have some flapper flair. That’s why I look like I just stepped out of the pages of The Great Gatsby . It’s a book about – “
“Enigmatic millionaire Jay Gatsby,” I cut in. “He is obsessed with his old girlfriend, Daisy, who is now unhappily married to an asshole named Tom Buchanan. Gatsby moves into the mansion near Daisy’s and becomes pals with her cousin in the hopes he’ll find a way to re-enter her life. This leads to a series of disastrous events and Gatsby winds up shot in his own swimming pool. It’s F. Scott Fitzgerald’s most famous work, an iconic portrait of the Roaring Twenties.”
Evie clapped her hands a few times in delight. “As the daughter of an English literature professor I am very impressed.”
I shrugged. “There were a lot of books in the prison library. There was a lot of time to read them.”
“I see,” she said softly.
I’d only been vaguely aware of the music floating out of the reception tent; a long obnoxious string of thumping noise that was easy to dance to. Most of the songs I didn’t recognize. They must have been released over the last few years. But now a slower song was starting and I recalled it with a jolt. Four years ago it had been incredibly popular. I hadn’t heard it since then.
“I should go back in there,” Evie sighed.
“You should,” I agreed. “I’m sure your guy is looking for you.”
“No guy.”
“Girl?”
“No.” She was amused. “Although sometimes I wish that was the case. Girls I can figure out. Men on the other hand are a persistent mystery.”
I searched for something smooth to say. Something flirty and disarming about how any man worth his own teeth would love to take her anywhere. I couldn’t find the words though. They would have been trivial. After all, I just met her. She was classy, she was nice and she was obviously intelligent. But I was a little rusty when it came to sweet talk and Evie wasn’t some silly teenager. I couldn’t think of anything worse than letting her believe I was a bullshit artist trying to climb inside her panties, even though that place sounded like a pretty fantastic destination.
Fuck. Stop. Can’t have her.
“Some mysteries are worth solving,” I finally managed to say. “Don’t you think?”
She considered for a minute. “Some are,” she finally agreed. “But a girl still might require a few clues along the way.” Evie put a finger to her soft lips and gazed wistfully toward the reception tent. “I love that song.”
“It’s a good song,” I agreed, relaxing slightly. It was a good song, one of those tunes played relentlessly on every outlet
I listened for her gasp. I watched for her to shuffle uncomfortably and back away. She didn’t do either one. She looked down at herself and smoothed her palms over her dress.
“I love this dress,” she said cheerfully, as if I hadn’t just unloaded a ton of bad history all over her. “Were you at the wedding, Stone? I didn’t see you there. I would have noticed.”
The cloud uncovered the moon once more. The added light gave me an even clearer view of Evie. She was all cuteness, soft hair and petite curves. An age-old lust started to stir. I pushed it back into oblivion. She was just being polite.
“No, I wasn’t at the wedding. I work for Cappie’s Party Rentals. We set up all the tables and chairs for the reception. I’m just waiting around for the party to end so I can clean up.”
Evie nodded. “I was a bridesmaid. Briana’s always had a thing for the Roaring Twenties and she wanted her wedding to have some flapper flair. That’s why I look like I just stepped out of the pages of The Great Gatsby . It’s a book about – “
“Enigmatic millionaire Jay Gatsby,” I cut in. “He is obsessed with his old girlfriend, Daisy, who is now unhappily married to an asshole named Tom Buchanan. Gatsby moves into the mansion near Daisy’s and becomes pals with her cousin in the hopes he’ll find a way to re-enter her life. This leads to a series of disastrous events and Gatsby winds up shot in his own swimming pool. It’s F. Scott Fitzgerald’s most famous work, an iconic portrait of the Roaring Twenties.”
Evie clapped her hands a few times in delight. “As the daughter of an English literature professor I am very impressed.”
I shrugged. “There were a lot of books in the prison library. There was a lot of time to read them.”
“I see,” she said softly.
I’d only been vaguely aware of the music floating out of the reception tent; a long obnoxious string of thumping noise that was easy to dance to. Most of the songs I didn’t recognize. They must have been released over the last few years. But now a slower song was starting and I recalled it with a jolt. Four years ago it had been incredibly popular. I hadn’t heard it since then.
“I should go back in there,” Evie sighed.
“You should,” I agreed. “I’m sure your guy is looking for you.”
“No guy.”
“Girl?”
“No.” She was amused. “Although sometimes I wish that was the case. Girls I can figure out. Men on the other hand are a persistent mystery.”
I searched for something smooth to say. Something flirty and disarming about how any man worth his own teeth would love to take her anywhere. I couldn’t find the words though. They would have been trivial. After all, I just met her. She was classy, she was nice and she was obviously intelligent. But I was a little rusty when it came to sweet talk and Evie wasn’t some silly teenager. I couldn’t think of anything worse than letting her believe I was a bullshit artist trying to climb inside her panties, even though that place sounded like a pretty fantastic destination.
Fuck. Stop. Can’t have her.
“Some mysteries are worth solving,” I finally managed to say. “Don’t you think?”
She considered for a minute. “Some are,” she finally agreed. “But a girl still might require a few clues along the way.” Evie put a finger to her soft lips and gazed wistfully toward the reception tent. “I love that song.”
“It’s a good song,” I agreed, relaxing slightly. It was a good song, one of those tunes played relentlessly on every outlet
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