Page 80 of Dust to Dust

Isla playfully rolled her eyes. “Of course you do.”

“Does that mean you’re in?”

She grinned. “I’m in. But if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather Brooke do my makeup and hair.”

“Whatever you would like.” Speaking back to Callum, I said, “Okay, we’re in.”

“Great. Just come meet me at the house at seven.”

“We’ll be there.”

“Thanks, Quinn.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re going to owe me big time for this.”

Callum chuckled. “Whatever.”

After I hung up, I rose off the couch. “Come on. I’m taking you shopping.”

Chapter Twenty: Isla

When Quinn said he was taking me shopping, I imagined we would go to the mall, which for someone like Quinn I had to imagine would be a form of torture. What I didn’t imagine was us turning onto Newbury Street with its elite, high-end stores. Growing up when we came into Boston, my family could barely afford to drive down the street least of all shop on it.

With a gaping mouth, I turned to face Quinn. “You can’t be serious.”

His dark brows furrowed. “What’s wrong with shopping here?”

“Maybe because it’s about three times outside my budget,” I protested.

“Don’t worry about that. It’s my treat.”

“Oh no, it isn’t!”

Quinn huffed out a frustrated breath. “Isla, you’re attending this gala as my guest, so you’re doing me a favor. Therefore, it shouldn’t be a big deal for me to buy you a dress.”

When I opened my mouth to argue again, he shook his head. “Let me do this.” Staring intently into my eyes, he added, “Please.”

“Well, you just had to go and use please, didn’t you?” At his grin, I sighed. “Fine. And just for you being cheeky about it, I’m going to get the most expensive one I can find.”

“Cheeky?”

“I’m picking up all these phrases from this Irish guy I know,” I teasingly replied.

“I can assure you I wasn’t being cheeky.”

“We’ll have to agree to disagree.”

The driver pulled the SUV in front of a store with a gold and white awning. “Thanks, Mikey. You can circle the block if you need to, and I’ll call when we’re finished,” Quinn instructed.

“Yes, sir.”

Before I could open my passenger door, Shane, Quinn’s bodyguard, opened it for me. He held out a hand to help me down. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Ms. Vaughn.”

“You don’t have to be so formal. You can call me Isla.”

“My apologies, but I’ll only call you that if Mr. Kavanaugh instructs me to do so.”

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