In The Cut Read Online Free PDF

Grace said, pinching his cheek. “I’ll be your friend, and Olivia will be your friend, too. Right Olivia?”
    “Sure.”
    “Well,” Grace said exhaling, “being that we got all that out the way. Did my ears deceive me the other night or did you call my girl’s salon a barbershop?”
     
    When Seeger’s jet landed, there was a Maybach 62 waiting for them.
    “Niiicce,” Grace said elbowing Olivia.
    At the MGM Grand they were greeted by a personal butler who showed Grace and Olivia to their suites, and then Glenn and Saint to theirs.
    “We’re on top of the world,” Glenn said, staring at the floor to ceiling windows of the two-story suite of the recently opened Sky lofts that were on the two top floors of the MGM Grand.
    “Not yet, Grasshopper,” Saint said, patting him on the shoulder. Remember what I said about the glitter and bullshit.”
    “Speaking of which, I’m impressed. You actually told the truth about how we met.”
    “I told you I could.”
    “Of course you left out the part about Petrescu being part of the Rumanian mafia, and that sexy assassin that put a six inch knife through your chest.”
    “I didn’t want to bore them with details.”
    “So, when are you going to tell Olivia that you’re not an accountant? I peeped the way you were looking at her. You’re feeling her.”
    “Since when did you become a master at reading people?”
    “I ain’t got to be a master to see the sparkle in your eye when you first saw her on the plane.”
    “Stop worrying about me, and start thinking about how you’re going to get in Grace’s panties. That is one of the main reasons why you asked her to come, right?”
    “Any suggestions?”
    “Just one. Be honest.”
     
    Glenn and Saint met Grace and Olivia at their suite and accompanied them to one of the hotel’s private lounges where they were introduced to fashions designers who didn’t need any introduction. Both Glenn and Saint were wearing tuxedos. Olivia wore a strapless gown and a diamond necklace. Grace was the breathtaker. She had on a hand-fluted silk matte-jersey gown that cuddled her.
    “You were right,” Olivia said, whispering in Saint’s ear.
    “About what?”
    She pointed with her chin to the man with three gorgeous women surrounding him. “Like scarfs, right?”
    He nodded.
    “I’ll be right back,” she said, about to mingle.
    Saint grabbed her by the elbow. “Please don’t tell me you’re going to do what I think you’re going to do?”
    “What’s that?”
    He looked down at her clutch purse. “How many business cards do you have in there?”
    “Ten, maybe fifteen.” Saint gave her the look. “Fifty, but I don’t plan on giving them all out.”
    “You’re not going to give any out.”
    “And why’s that?”
    “Look around you, Olivia what do you see?”
    “Fashion designers, women, waiters…”
    “Look past the obvious.”
    “I give up. What am I supposed to be seeing?”
    “Business cards.” Olivia squinted her eyes at him. “The dresses, the gowns, the suits, the tuxedos, the jewelry, the eye wear, and even some of the women are all for sale. This gathering is nothing but a commercial whose actors are also the consumers. This is how ‘they’ advertise. You go pulling out business cards and start handing them out, they’re liable to call security and have you thrown out into the street for vulgarity.”
    “Oh really?” Olivia didn’t look convinced.
    “Really. If you don’t believe me, go ahead.” He released her elbow.
    Olivia bit her bottom lip as she looked around the room. “So, how am I supposed to let them know about Butta Cutz?”
    “First of all, they’re going to need a damn good incentive to want to come to Butta Cutz. And the only incentive that works on these folks is money.”
    “Money?” I’m not going to pay them to come to my salon. That’s defeating the purpose.”
    Saint shrugged. “Of course there’s another way.”
    “And what’s that?” she asked, tensing