In The Cut Read Free

table. She had on a powder blue pant and blouse ensemble.
    “What’s up, girlfriend?” She slapped Olivia high-five.
    “You were hurting ‘em, girl.”
    “I was, wasn’t I?” Grace batted her eyes.
    “You definitely did your thing up there,” Saint said.
    “Oh, I’m so sorry. Where are my manners,” Olivia said. “Grace this is Clayton. And Clayton this is Grace.”
    “The pleasure’s all mine,” Saint said, shaking her hand.
    “You’s a cute fella, and smooth. Don’t be trying to talk to my friend. You see that big rock on her finger, right?”
    “He knows about the ring.”
    “Damn, girl, did you give him your social security number and bank account numbers, too?”
    “We were just making conversation.”
    Grace looked Saint up and down. “You know how to fight?”
    “Grace…” Olivia said, embarrassed.
    “Why?” Saint asked.
    “If you plan on getting with my girl, you better know how to fight, because her brothers are overprotective.”
    “Brothers?” Saint asked.
    “All four of them.”
    “It’s not that kind of party, Grace,” Olivia said.
    “I just figured I put the brother on point. Let’s not forget what happened to the last one.”
    “The last one?” Saint asked.
    “Okay, time for us to mingle,” Olivia said, as she stood up and grabbed Grace by the arm. “Nice to have met you. And thanks again for earlier with that creep.”
    “Not a problem. Take care of yourself. Hey, I might even stop by your barbershop.”
    “Barbershop? No he didn’t just call your salon a barbershop.” Grace said, as Olivia pulled her away. Saint watched them as they disappeared into the crowd of the rich and powerful. He heard Glenn announcing that the swimsuit segment was next. He was so engrossed in Olivia’s looks and personality that what was supposed to be the highlight of his evening was nothing more than a blur of women walking back and forth. Olivia was a small woman, the type that would fit snug under his arm, petite, but not boyish. She had the body of a lean, but shapely gymnast. For the rest of the night, he watched her work the crowd. She blushed, she smiled, she laughed, and her business cards seem to magically find their way into the hands of those who stopped to talk to her.
    She reminded him of a woman in his past life. A fast talker, a shot caller. I’m a tax paying, working stiff, he said to himself. I love my boring life. I… love my boring life. He finished the last of his champagne, and admitted to himself that he hated his boring ass life.
     
    At the end of the show, Glenn closed out with a teary dedication to all those who believed in him and gave him the chance to showcase his gift to the world. As fate would have it, Saint and Glenn bumped into Olivia and Grace while waiting for the valets to bring their cars around.
    “Thank you again, for letting me model for you tonight,” Grace said, hugging Glenn and kissing him on the cheek.
    “The pleasure was all mine, girl. You brought out the sass in everything you put on.”
    Grace looked over at Saint. “You’re a fashion designer as well?”
    “He’s an accountant,” Olivia said.
    “He’s a wh—” Glenn started to say.
    Saint slapped him on the shoulder. “Yo, that show was definitely what was up.”
    “Yeah,” Glenn said, rubbing his shoulder.
    The valet pulled up Olivia’s smoke grey Mercedes S-Class.
    Saint stuck his chest out when the valet pulled his BMW Z4 along side Olivia’s ride.
    “Nice wheels,” she said.
    “It gets me from point A to point B,” he said humbly.
    “Take care of yourself, Clayton.” Olivia waved at him as she climbed into her car. Saint waved at her as he got into his and pulled off.
    “It gets me from point A to point B,” Glen said mockingly.
    “So, what’s the deal with Miss Olivia?”
    “She’s a good girl, Saint.”
    “What’s that supposed to mean?”
    “Nothing. She’s just not your type.”
    “And what’s not my type?”
    “She’s an honest