Olga juts her chin at a smug angle now that her darling son has come to the rescue. I can’t let her take over the conversation because I’ll end up on the wrong side of the story. So I do what I promised myself I wouldn’t. Squaring my shoulders, I focus on Conny and jump in, feet first. “I was just talking to your mom about Dante coming by the store the other day and—”
“What?” He rushes over to where we’re standing, nearly tripping over his own feet.
“Mijo,” Olga yelps, reaching out to keep him upright. “Be careful.”
His ostrich boots give an odd clump as he catches his footing. “Why didn’t you tell me, you stupid bitch?” He grips my biceps, his eyes open wide with excitement. “When did he come by?”
“Tuesday, right before noon.”
“Did he ask about me?”
Well he hadn’t flat-out asked. “I told him you weren’t here.” Which is still at least a portion of the truth.
“So she went to lunch with him,” Olga says with a self-satisfied smile. “This so-called friend.”
He yanks his elbow from her grasp, pushing her away in the process. “I don’t give a shit.” The lines around her eyes deepen with her wounded expression. Then he snatches the handle out of my hand and thrusts it into hers before dragging me aside. “Here, take care of this.” Olga barely grabs the handle in time, her jaw dropping as she’s caught by surprise. I’m not sure what happened the past few months, but the adoration has taken a nosedive. He never would have dared that stunt six months back.
“He mentioned coming by later in the week,” he says with a far-off look in his eye. “But he didn’t say when it might be, and I missed him.” He snaps back to attention. “What did he say?” Conny asks with all the enthusiasm of a gossiping teenage girl. “Was he mad I wasn’t here?”
“He didn’t say much of anything.” I shrug. “We just went for a quick bite, and I brought back a plate for Carol.”
He clutches my shoulder, frowning. “And?”
I exhale, resigned to the fact I’ll have to tell him. “He invited me to a get-together at his place on Saturday.”
He sucks in a breath, holding it for a few seconds. “Ho-ly shit.” Conny’s eyes go huge. “I’m in.” He pulls me against him, stomping his feet. “Did you hear that, Ma? He wants me at the party.”
“Well, he said you could be my plus-one,” I correct. “But—”
He sets me back. “Gotta talk to Iz,” he mumbles, smacking his palms to his pockets. He turns on a heel, pulling the car keys from his pocket as he heads out.
“Conrado, wait.” But he doesn’t slow down. “I didn’t say yes.” The words are enough to stop him mid-step, leaving the swinging doors half open. He stomps back inside, glaring at me with so much hatred in his eyes, his head might explode. “I didn’t know this was such a big deal.”
He swings around, bearing down on me with his arm raised, in a move I recognize. I instinctively shuffle away, lifting my arm up to block the blow.
“Conrado!” Surprisingly, it’s Olga who stops him, putting all her weight into derailing him before he reaches me. “What’s wrong with you?”
“You have until tomorrow to tell him you changed your mind.” There’s a steely look in his eyes I’ve never seen before. “If you ever expect to have a life, you’ll find him,” he says through bared teeth.
“I don’t know how,” I admit. He drags his hand up to my throat, despite Olga being latched on.
“I don’t care how you do it,” he says wild-eyed. “But you get me into that party, even if you have to suck his dick from now until Saturday. You get me?”
He wrenches his arm out of his mother’s grasp before turning away. He shoves the doors open with enough force to have them slam against the wall on either side.
And how am I supposed to find Dante in time, when I told his only contact he didn’t need to come by tonight?
CHAPTER ELEVEN
IRIS
I glance at the time again. It’s been over six hours, and I probably checked the clock a hundred times during each one. No matter how much I wish, the hands don’t go any faster.
“Let’s shut it down, Carol.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice,” she says, counting what little money is in the register. Closing out the till at the end of the day is easier now, since most people use a card.
My heart’s in my throat. Will Tino be here tonight? I’d told him Carol drops me off Tuesdays and Thursdays. I go to the front entrance, searching the parking lot, but Carol’s little Ford is sitting out there all alone. He isn’t coming. My stomach twists into a knot. I need to get word to Dante I changed my mind about his party. If I can’t, the consequences could affect the rest of my life. What if Conny flips out before I talk to Tino tomorrow night? I can only hope Conny doesn’t show up. But with something this important to him, I know he will—and he might even be on time. Then I’ll have to deal with whatever he dishes out, if my nerves haven’t torn me apart.
I’ve never seen Conny raging like this. It’s like he’s a different person, and I wonder if whatever he’s taking isn’t causing the unpredictable moods. He’s looking for some big score, and he’s running the store into the ground, draining every cent since he got the idea in his head. We’re all suffering for it, me especially. At the beginning, we could barely cover the bills. Now the produce delivery’s been suspended because they haven’t been paid. They’re the first vendor to cut us off, and they’re not the only ones we’re behind with. Likely, the only reason they waited this long is because we’ve never been late before. Most have dealt with Dad since before I was born, and they know what’s happened to him. But sympathy won’t make payroll for their employees.
Despite telling Conny, time and again, he doesn’t understand that once your stock goes low, your customers will stop coming. And once you sell the last item, no more money will come in. How does he expect to stay in business? How do you pay the employees? How do you pay utilities? It’s all I can do to keep the place afloat and not go hungry. But if I bring it up now, he’ll blow his lid, and I can’t let that happen.
“Okay.” Carol comes out from the storage room, swinging her backpack over her shoulder and holding my messenger bag. “I’m punched out and so ready to go.”
“Thanks.” Bag in hand, I head over to turn off the lights. I want to run to the door again and see if he showed up. Instead, I fight the urge and plug the code in to set the alarm. The beeping starts, ratcheting up my anxiety. Carol’s waiting at her usual spot by the exit, but she doesn’t mention Tino.
The door opens to the empty parking lot, and I’m both let down and stressed.
“Your driver didn’t show up today?” she teases.
“No. But I told him not to come by,” I reply as I pull the gate closed and shut the lock.
“Why?” Her eyes open wide. “Did something happen yesterday?”
“No, nothing happened,” I assure her. “I told him I usually hitch a ride with you.”
“Oh.” I swear there’s disappointment in her voice.
“Only if you can, Carol. If not—”
She presses the button on her fob, disarming the car alarm. “No, it’s not that.” She tosses her backpack and purse in the back seat then closes the door. Sighing, she looks back at me. “I guess I got this kind of fairy-tale image about you and this guy. He seems like he cares, you know, not just wants to get in your pants.”
My jaw nearly drops. I never would have expected her to say anything like that. “I suppose he is sweet, but I don’t expect anything from Dante.” Despite him already getting in my pants. “We just met.”
Her head rears back. “So you don’t like him?” she demands, incredulous. “I saw your face when he—”
“I didn’t say that.” In fact, I’m not sure what I’d say because I’ve been a little too into him, yet not wanting to get more involved than what I am. In a matter of days, I’ve learned to miss him. If circumstances were different, I would have gone o
ut with him, regardless of what Dad thought.
“Well.” She smiles, her doubts settled, at least for the moment. “You two make a cute couple.”
The last word sent warmth through my chest. I liked it. I liked it a lot. Though I don’t know whatever this thing between us is, it’s not what Carol is imagining.
“Come on.” She opens her door. “Let’s go.” I go around the little car, glancing toward the street one last time before settling into the passenger seat. We pull out of the parking lot with my stomach still feeling disconnected from the rest of me. When we turn off the main road, Carol glances over, a big grin spreading across her face. “Looks like he ran late.”
I turn in my seat and instantly recognize the silver BMW in the side mirror. Sweet relief flows through me, leaving me weak. True to his word, Tino follows us to the house, slowing down when Carol pulls over to the curb.
“See you tomorrow,” she says still grinning.
“Thanks, girl.” I rush out then all but jog back to catch up to Tino.
“Everything all right?” He puts the gearshift in park, looking around with a note of concern.
“Yes.” I exhale in a rush of relief. “Um.” I couldn’t help but fidget, pulling the strap around my fingers and twisting it until it’s as tight as my insides. “I need to… Well, things changed, and I’ll be able to go on Saturday after all.” The relief of actually accepting out loud leaves me a bit light-headed.
He searches my face for a moment. “Good,” he says, sounding as detached as usual.
“Do you have the address?” Maybe that would be enough for Conny.
“I’m scheduled to be here at eight.” Annoyance wells up inside me. I made myself sick for most of the afternoon, yet Tino already counted on picking me up. “Will you be alone?”
Heat spreads up my neck and across my face. “No.” I had to choke down the word. “Conny—Conrado is going with me.”
“Remind him you’ll be there as guests only,” he adds in an ominous voice.
A sense of unease settles over me. Is this part of Conny’s big score? Am I helping set up Dante? My stomach tightens again because deep down I know things won’t end well if Tino has to get involved.
CHAPTER TWELVE
IRIS
It’s midafternoon, and Conny’s late—again. For once, I spent the day hoping he’d show up. So far that hasn’t happened, even though he was supposed to be here to cover the market at noon. My nerves are starting to wear thin at this point. I don’t need him getting all bent out of shape, thinking I ruined his chances at his big score. There’s no telling how he’ll react. As it is, lately that’s getting harder and harder to predict.
Where does Dante stand with all of this? Maybe I got stupid around him the other day because at some point, in the middle of the night, I realized he didn’t tell me anything about himself. Yet here I am, days later, hoping he’ll walk through the door. What could I possibly do? With Carol out for class, I’m the only one at the register right now, so there’ll be no surprise lunch date, no suggestions to sneak into the office for “a quick word.” At this point, I’m just glad Oliver’s in to cover the meat market.
“Good afternoon, ma’am.” Habit adds a smile for the customer, while inside I’m hoping she can’t see it’s all for show.
“Hi there.” The woman, whose name escapes me, starts unloading her cart, the first of the larger weekend purchases, when the door slides open again. As much as I don’t want to turn, I glance over. It’s Conny, finally. He’s in his usual wife beater, a shirt tossed over his shoulder, but his features are strained, and he’s mumbling to himself. My shoulders tighten involuntarily. Great, he’s high.
“You’re out of avocados?”
Clearing my expression, I swing back to her. “Yes, ma’am. I apologize. We’re due a delivery today. The distributor’s just running late.”
Heading around the register area, he comes to stand beside me, his eyes shifting way too quickly.
“So, you get it done?” His hands are opening and closing as he waits because whatever’s in his system won’t let him be still.
“We’re set for Saturday.” I reach for the pack of corn tortillas as I keep ringing up the order.
“Yes! You pulled it off, Iris.” He grabs me by the shoulder and biceps, shaking me in excitement. “Come on.” Gripping my arm, he drags me out of the register area.
“I can’t leave now.” Trying to be discreet, I glance over to the lady who’s just dropped another half dozen items on the conveyor belt. “We have customers,” I add in a whisper.
“Damn it.” Scowling, he shoves me back toward the register. Grasping the divider, I steady myself as he heads toward the office. Meanwhile, the woman folds her arms, scowling as she goes from him to me and back.
“I’m so sorry, ma’am.” How many times have I told him not to be rude to customers, yet he still does this?
“All these years coming to this store,” she says, shaking her head. “Tony never would have allowed this to happen.”
Tears sting my eyes. “You’re right, ma’am.” The weight of his presence bears down on me, but I keep scanning her groceries, half afraid she’ll walk away and we’ll lose a significant sale. “I’ll talk to Conrado in just a minute.”
Even after her groceries are packed, she’s still wearing a pinched expression. “Oliver,” I call out to the meat market. “Can you help with a carry out?”
With both of them heading out the door I run to the back.
*****
CONRADO
Fuckin’ Iris. This is important, and she’s stuck on some old lady wanting groceries. I plop onto the worn office chair. I’m getting a buzz just thinking about the party. I got a plan, but as much as I hate to admit it, I can’t make it work without some help. Tugging out my cell, I thumb through my contact list till I find the number I need.
After two rings, she picks up. “Mom—”
“Hi, baby. How—”
“I’m going to Dante’s party on Saturday.” I blow past her hello because if I don’t stop that shit, she’ll go on forever.
“Oh, that’s wonderful.”
“I gotta work something out for Iris.” She’s a fine piece of ass, but she’s gotta put on a show if I’m gonna get the money for Dante’s deal. “There’s gonna be a lot of high rollers at that party. I need to polish her up to hook one willing to pay what I need.”
“And you’re calling me for that?” I can hear the doubt in her voice. “I thought you said you didn’t need me.”
I can’t believe she chooses to do this now, when I have no choice but to give in. “Yeah, Mom, I need you for this.”
The silence stretches out, and I hold my breath, waiting for her answer. If she bails on me, I got nobody else to turn to. Just when I’m about to lose my shit, she answers me.
“What do you need me to get for you?”
I ease my breath out as quietly as I can. “It ain’t for me, Mom. I got my own shit. But for her, everything.”
“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.”
Stealing Iris: A Dark Mafia Romance (Blood Ties Book 1) Page 9