Killer Summer by Lynda Curnyn (knowledgeable books to read TXT) 📕

I looked around again, trying to site out the object of his desire, but all I saw was Sage heading for the restroom.“Who, dude?”

He shook his head at me, as if it were obvious. “Sage. She’s pretty fucking cool. Do you know she’s a Nick Cave fan? I was weaned on fucking Nick Cave. And she’s hot, man.”

I must have been looking at him funny, because he said,“I mean, if you’re not already hooked up with her, dude.”

“Nah.” I saw Les frown and realized he was wondering why I wasn’t hooked up with Sage. “I mean, we had a minor…thing a long, long time ago,” I hedged, hoping he didn’t verify with Sage at some point. “But we’re friends now, you know?”

“Cool. Then hook me up, dude. I’m counting on you.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thanks. I better go. We’re going on in a few minutes.”

“Hey, break a leg, okay?”

He laughed. I mean a genuine laugh. I don’t think I’d ever even seen Les smile before that.

“I don’t need to, dude. I’m feeling inspired, if you know what I mean.”

Then he took off, happy as a fucking clam. I watched him high-five Cliff Jackson, his bass player, and I nearly laughed myself. Shit, he had it bad.

Then I saw Sage returning from the bathroom, and I prayed she might have felt the same vibe for Les. I mean, he wasn’t exactly her type, but you never know, right?

“Hey,” Sage said. “Band going on soon?”

I nodded, studying her green eyes and wide mouth. Yeah, I could see why Les was hooked. Sage always had that look. Like she’d just climbed out of bed—or was looking to climb back in. I don’t mean that in a bad way. She just had this sexy, unkempt look. Not that she was unkempt. If Sage was anything like Bern— or any of the other women I knew—she probably spent a good hour getting herself to look that tousled. “So what’d you think of Les?” I asked.

“He seemed like a nice guy,” she said. Then she narrowed her eyes at me. “Why?”

“Nothing,” I said innocently. I knew from long experience, you had to play these kind of things cool with Sage. “It’s just that he thought you were pretty cool.”

She smiled, then shrugged. “Not my type.”

“What do you mean, not your type?”

She thought about this for a moment. “Too young.”

That threw me. “Too young? Sage, he’s thirty-three. That’s two years older than you—and a heck of a lot older than most of the guys you date.“

She shrugged again. “People change, Nick. Maybe I’ve changed.”

She looked the same to me, I thought, watching as she sized up a leather-clad twenty-year-old who strolled by. But I didn’t have time to argue. Mostly I didn’t feel like it. This was my night, after all.

As if on cue, Zoe returned with beers for both of us.

“Nothing for me?” Sage said, as Zoe handed me my beer. “I thought we were supposed to have a toast for my promotion. Gonna be pretty hard, if I don’t have a drink.”

Shit. Now I’d fucked up. “Sorry, Sage. Look, let me get you something. The best tequila in the house for the new sales manager of Edge.”

“Never mind,” she said, taking off for the bar.

I looked at Zoe. “Oops.”

“We’ll do a toast, Nick. Don’t sweat it. Besides, Tom is having a dinner party in her honor Saturday night at the beach.”

“Oh yeah?” I replied. “That’s cool.” Still, I probably should get Sage a little toasted tonight. Not just because of her promotion, either. But because it was clear I was going to need to get her a little looped in order for her to show some interest in Les. Though I wasn’t sure that would even work. She could be damn difficult, that Sage. Maybe Les would forget about her. I mean, there were other chicks out there, right? He’d get over it.

Sage returned with her usual tequila on the rocks. “Bartender bought me a drink. Pretty nice, right?”

Maybe there weren’t many chicks out there like Sage. She was something, I thought, praying Les would get over it. He was a big boy. Besides, he had his career to think of now.

I looked around nervously, noticing that the crowd hadn’t thickened very much. “Did you e-mail your list?” I said to Sage, with a bit more accusation than I intended.

She frowned at me. “Of course I did, Nick. I said I would. But it’s not easy to get people to come out and see a band at eleven o’clock on a Thursday night. Most people have to work in the morning.”

It was that kind of attitude that really pissed me off. “I don’t get people. I mean, you can sleep when you’re dead.”

“Or when you’re old,” Zoe said with a chuckle.

“I’m not getting old,” I replied with a smirk.

“We all get old,” Sage said.

“Yeah, and we all die,” Zoe said. Then she frowned. “Though some of us sooner than absolutely necessary, I think.”

I saw Sage send her a look. I didn’t blame her. Zoe was pretty wiggy ever since Maggie died. “Hey, let’s move on to a better topic,” I said, holding up my beer. “To Sage Daniels, the best fucking sales manager Edge Leather ever had.”

Sage smiled.“I'll drink to that,“ she said, raising her glass to clink with ours.

But she had just barely taken a sip when I saw her eyes widen with anger, this time directed at me.

“What the fuck is she doing here?” she asked.

I followed Sage’s gaze and saw Francesca waltzing through the crowd. Holy shit, she actually came. I felt a little excitement move through me. I wasn’t sure if this was because of what she was wearing—black mini, stilettos and just about the tiniest tank top I’d ever seen—or simply because she’d shown up. All because I’d asked.

“Nick, what did I tell you about messing with Tom’s daughter?” Sage began.

“I’m not messing with her!” I said. God, but I wanted to do something with her,