Page 28 of Stealing Iris

“Oh.”

I grit my teeth at the whiny disappointment in her voice and take a deep breath. “I need to be able to show her off, in case someone wants to check out the goods.”

“So something short and open at the top.”

“Yeah.” I pause, squeezing my eyes shut and pinching the bridge of my nose before forcing the next words out. “See that’s why I…need you, Mom. You knew exactly what to do.”

“Oh…well...you know I’d do anything for you, Conrado!” She giggles, and I wanna gag. Damn I hate having to suck up to people just to get something done. “I can shop faster without her. Just get me her sizes.”

Before I can answer, the swinging door creaks as someone comes into the back. I spin the chair around to find Iris standing there. I check her out with a critical eye and shake my head. Calling Mom was smart. Bitch needs a serious wardrobe upgrade.

“What size shoe do you wear?”

A couple of seconds tick by before Iris raises her eyebrows. “Me?”

“Yes,you.”

“Um, size six.” Her brows draw together. “Why?”

“She wears a six shoe,” I tell Mom, ignoring her question.

I can hear a pencil scratching. “Dress?”

“What size dress?”

Iris continues to stare at me.

I snap my fingers in front of her face to break her out of it. “Iiiirisss! Fuck, it’s an easy question, dumb ass! Dress size?”

Iris swallows hard. “I’m not exactly sure, now that I’ve lost weight. It’s always hard to—”

“She doesn’t know,” I say into the phone.

“Get something to measure her.”

“What am I measuring?”

“She’ll know,” Mom says, blowing out a breath. “Text me the measurement. Meanwhile, I’ll head to the mall. Once I have an outfit, I’ll take it to a store I know that carries four-inch heels. She’ll need those, they’ll show off her legs and push up her ass.”

“You can do that? With shoes?” Never would have thought they would help with a chick’s ass.

“Yes, my silly boy.”

“Okay.” I exhale. Thank fuck I’m not gonna get stuck on this shopping trip. “Get whatever you think is best.”

“One last thing. You’re going to have to take her to the salon. I’ll meet you and we can supervise their work.”

“What?” The chair squeaks as I sit forward. “You’re kidding.”

“You want her to look good, don’t you?”

I grimace, knowing this is gonna suck. “Yeah…fine. I’ll take her.”

“I’ll set up the appointment for you.”

“Okay. But make it for three o’clock because I’m not getting up early.”

“You’ll likely need more time. She needs a complete makeover. Hair, nails, clothes, and makeup. And it’s going to cost you.”

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