“Did you get a GED?” I ask, fascinated, but then Andre barks my name and I blush. He nods significantly down at the paper in my hand and I bite my lip, forcing myself to pay attention. But I can’t help it when my eyes drift back to Frankie. Frankie – he really is full of surprises, isn’t he? I f
“What the hell, Frankie!” I hiss, leaning over the bar to smack him on the arm. “Why didn’t you tell me that!?” He grins at me, pleased at his little trick. “You didn’t ask, Bambs. Come on, you ready to go home? I’ll let you make me dinner.” I scowl at him, but I admit – it’s hard to be mad at h
I smile at him, pleased to be seen, pleased to have him understand me. “You looked good, happy for once,” he says, pulling the car to a stop at a red light and taking a long moment to look into my eyes, to study my face. “You looked…really good, behind that bar.” I fight my urge to bite my lip b
Frankie bursts into a grin. “Iris,” he murmurs, shaking his head, “we didn’t save you from one prostitution ring just to sink you into another. Besides, you know Christian would never allow that.” I scowl, angry to have been led astray by his story, but Frankie just laughs some more and continues.
I can’t help it, not for an instant - I burst out laughing. Once we get the silverware folded into the napkins my shift begins, and Frankie takes what I come to understand as his habitual seat at the corner of the bar, flicking through his phone or at least pretending to. I move to Andre’s side an
The days move fast like this. I take as many doubles as Andre will give me – and he’s willing to give me a lot – because I like being at Lupa. I like it one hell of a lot more interesting than being in the penthouse. Even though I’ve turned it much more into a home than it was before, there are no
I can’t help it – I’m charmed immediately by her. God, Frankie was right, she deserves everything that Romano pays her. “What can I do for you?” she says sweetly, turning her head to the side as she smiles at me. “Um, Andre wanted me to check the reservations. It said sixteen? But he said that’s
Andre barks my name, breaking me from my thoughts, and I have to skitter across the bar to help him dismantle a couple of booths and set up a table for sixteen. “God,” I murmur, carrying one end of a heavy bistro table back into the service room, “I thought I was like…ornamental.” “We’re all orn