Page 9 of Just George

“If you have a card,” I said, shifting to the right enough so I could see how she sat up in her chair and crossed her arms as a young man took a seat beside her. The scowl she gave him brought on a wide grin from him, letting me know, even if I didn’t already, that they were frenemies, “you can give it to me, but at the moment—I am working.”

“Listen,” he murmured, leaning in close, “it’s okay with me if you’re working, but I promise, you won’t get a better offer tonight. Do you know who I am?”

Wait. No. I had to have it wrong.

“Excuse me,” Dr. Butler said, stepping in beside the guy who thought I was a gigolo, “may I have a word with you?”

I pointed at the guy who had just propositioned me. “Doc, this guy thinks I’m a prostitute.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“He thinks I’m––” I coughed loudly. “––workin’ this event.”

Dr. Butler looked from me to the guy, and back to me. “Oh, he does not.”

I waggled my eyebrows for him.

“Sir,” Dr. Butler addressed the man, who looked quite confused and a bit horrified, “this man is a bodyguard. He is, in fact, working this event, as he’s keeping a lovely young woman safe from all manner of horrors, but his companionship for the evening is not for sale.”

The man had a zinger for Dr. Butler, you could tell. Probably something unflattering about me, no doubt, but instead of delivering the cutting remark, he beat it out of there.

“Oh, lookit him go,” I jeered, chuckling, watching my admirer almost jog away as Dr. Butler moved in beside me. He didn’t stand in front of me, knowing I was keeping watch over Hannah, and so many people weren’t thoughtful that way. I appreciated it. “Thanks for saving me. That was kinda funny.”

“I’m certain that happens often,” he replied softly, bumping me with his shoulder. “You’re easily the most beautiful man here, so you can’t very well blame him.”

I turned slowly to look at the doctor.

He choked out a laugh. “I’m being serious, you ass.”

“Ass?”

“I’m trying to give you a compliment. I saw many men, and women, eying you when the bachelor auction was going on. If Mr. Sutter were in the habit of putting his own employees up for bid, I’m certain he would have made a small fortune where you’re concerned.”

I studied his profile for a moment before rechecking Hannah, who was rolling her eyes over something that David Chan, a young man the same age as her boyfriend, was saying.

As he came from a wealthy family and Hannah was Aaron Sutter’s niece, their circles always intersected with one another. And while David liked her quite a bit, he could never stop himself from baiting her. For her part, Hannah found him arrogant, annoying, insufferable, but also, unfortunately, he was really smart and interested in all the same things she was, like antiques, business, and saving the planet. They were like two sharks swimming along together, in complete sync and ready to attack one another at the same time.

“Who is that guy with Hannah?” Dr. Butler asked me.

“He’s—never mind,” I replied belligerently, remembering that he thought I was a psychopath. A violent one to boot. “You hate me.”

He looked startled when I refocused on him from Hannah.

“What, Dr. Butler? What do you have––”

“Call me Kurt,” he told me. “And whyever would I hate you?”

“I thought you said I was the devil.”

“I––”

“I crave violence and all that.”

“I never said you were the devil,” he corrected me, shooting me a look like I was nuts. “I said, as you’ve repeated now more than once, that your default setting is violence. But I understand from Hannah that you went into the Army young, so perhaps violence is the only conflict-resolution tool you’ve ever been taught.”

I crossed my arms. “Meaning what? That I’m some thug who can only end an argument with a bullet?”

“I have no idea what kind of family you––”