Set Loose by Isabel Morin Page B

but her car was in the shop.”
    “I wasn’t even going to mention it,” Emily said, smiling as she speared a piece of salad with her fork. “I’m glad she’s doing so well. She’s lucky to have you.”
    “If I hadn’t left I could have protected her better.”
    “Maybe, but maybe not. There’s a good chance it wouldn’t have mattered. Plus, you made something of yourself and were in a better position to help her.”
    He looked surprised. “I never thought of it that way.” He paused, considering. “Maybe you’re right. I think I’d have gotten into some bad shit myself if I’d stayed. My dad seemed to think so anyway.”
    “Was it so bad growing up on the reservation?”
    “It’s complicated, and it’s taken me a long time to sort it out. I think that’s why I took those pictures. Looking back I can see how little people talked about the future, how hopeless we all felt. Everyone was poor so as a kid I didn’t think too much about that part, not until I went to a new high school. It got harder to go back after that. Plus my mother fits right into the stereotype of the alcoholic Indian, so there’s that. But there’s not a day that goes by I don’t feel guilty about leaving, even if it was the best thing for me.”
    “Do you ever visit?” she asked.
    “I visit my mom every couple of months. It’s always rough, though. She’s not an easy woman and time hasn’t been good to her. Or rather, she hadn’t been good to herself.”
    “So is your sister the reason you took the job at the club?” she asked.
    “You mean am I working there to make up for the fact that I couldn’t protect Lisa?”
    “Sorry. I don’t mean to sound like an armchair psychologist.
    “That’s okay. I can see how it might look like I was trying to atone for past mistakes or something, but it’s nothing like that. I was putting an addition on Steve’s house and we got to talking. This was when things had started to go downhill with the housing market, and I mentioned how few houses were being built. He offered me the job and I took it. It was more in spite of what had happened to Lisa than because of it.”
    Cutter stopped and looked at her plate. “Have you had enough?”
    “God, yes. That was delicious, but I’ve hit the wall.”
    Cutter beamed at her. “You liked it?”
    “That was the best thing I’ve had in years. Where’d you learn to cook?” she asked.
    “I hate to admit it, but this is pretty much the only thing I can cook. I ate lasagna once at a friend’s house and it rocked my world. I learned how to make it so I could have it whenever I wanted.”
    “Are you saying this is the beginning and end of your repertoire?”
    “Well, I can also roast a chicken and cook a steak. And I can grill.”
    “You are such a guy. But that’s fine, since it’s not your cooking I’m after,” she said, batting her eyes at him.
    Cutter laughed and stood up to clear the table. Emily followed suit, carrying dishes to the sink.
    “Driving out here was the first time since I got here that I didn’t think all of Las Vegas was awful,” Emily said, covering the salad in plastic wrap as she spoke. “Maybe it’s because it’s so different from what I’m used to, but I just can’t imagine living here.”
    She glanced up from to see Cutter looking at her in surprise as water ran from the sink faucet.
    “Oh God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to send so judgmental. Obviously plenty of people like it out here…” She trailed off, feeling as if she’d written herself into a corner.
    Cutter leaned back against the counter, looking thoughtful. “I’m not surprised you feel that way. I mean, you’ve been living in a hotel on the Strip and working at the Pink Pussycat. But that’s not how people actually live around here. There are neighborhoods and parks and sights people come from all over to see. Plus there’s more culture here than you probably realize. Did you know we have two ballet companies here?”
    Cutter