Page 21 of Stealing Iris

He picks up the beer bottle. “Am I keeping a distance?”

“No.” My grin wins out. “You’re picking her up.”

“I am?” He frowns, taking a quick drink.

“Yes, because I promisedIwouldn’t be there.”

Tino’s gaze shifts to a spot above me, his version of an eye roll. Regardless of what he thinks of my plan, he’s one of the few people to “get” me.

“We’ll see what happens from here to Saturday because she’ll be joining us at the ranch.”

CHAPTER NINE

IRIS

It’s a quarter after ten when I’m finally turning off the lights, leaving the store illuminated by the sign on the dairy fridge. Exhaustion weighs me down, as if I’ve been doing hard labor since sunrise. Carol and I head to the door, more than ready to call it a night.

“Hey, there’s a car in the parking lot,” she says, pulling her backpack up on one shoulder as she cranes her neck. Tuesday and Thursday she works a split shift so she can go to college, while I try not to be jealous of her opportunity.

I shift my weight, letting my head fall back. “A regular?” Because it isn’t unusual for someone to show up needing just one more thing before I lock up.

“Nah.” She shakes her head, staring out the door, thoughtfully. “None of our regulars drive anything like this.”

Frowning, I hurry over to the sliding door. Sure enough, when I reach the entrance, I recognize the silver BMW in the first parking space.

Carol’s eyes grow huge. “Isthatyour boyfriend?”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” I clarify through clenched teeth.

She squees, enjoying this way too much. All I need is for her to turn around and high-five me. “Uh-huh. But it ishim, right? The guy from this afternoon.” She grins as I set the alarm and exhale in annoyance.

We walk out the door while the alarm beeps. I pull the gate across the front windows while Dad’s image mocks me from the thick glass.

“He has anicecar.” Carol’s swoony tone hits my nerves like scraping metal on metal.

But I can’t deny she’s right. He does have a nice car, and a damn roomy back seat in his truck. But I’m not going to bring up either one. I stick the key in the keyhole and the lock clicks into place. Glancing at the drawing again, I clench my jaw. It’s long past time I change the sign. Maybe I’ll try using a cute puppy, or something else with no stake in what happens in my life.

“I guess you don’t need a ride after all, huh,” she says in a singsong voice.

Part of me wants to say the hell with it and head to her car. It’s not like Dante doesn’t know better. I made it clear if he showed up, I wouldn’t go home with him. But dealing with Carol will be another matter. I’m saved from saying anything by the car door opening.

My steps slow and so do Carol’s. It isn’t Dante coming around from the driver’s side. The guy’s tall, with dark hair and a similar build, but definitely not Dante. He moves around to stand beside the passenger door, his black shirt and jeans standing out against the silver car.

“Miss Iris,” he says, directing his full attention at me. “My name is Tino. Dante asked me to see you safely home sincehecouldn’t be here tonight.”

That sneaky rat.

“I can still take you home,” Carol whispers, grabbing my forearm in concern.

Tino remains impassive. His stance widens, and he crosses his hands right below his belt, the same way security people on TV shows do. Is that who he is? Dante’s bodyguard? “If you prefer, I can follow you, if you planned to drive Iris home tonight.”

“What the hell?” Carol exclaims, coming out of her shell in a cloak of defiance. “Why would you want to follow us?”

“Your South Side is showing,” I say, under my breath.

“I. Don’t. Care.” She glares down at me. “You don’t even know who this is.”

“It really doesn’t matter how Iris gets home, miss,” he explains with a calm you don’t normally see in people. “I just need to ensure she gets there safe.”

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