Page 87 of Saving Ian Pope

“Perfect. Diego is waiting for us at Paco’s. I figured you could use some proper Mexican food after subsisting on bangers and mash and spotted dick.”

***

When we got to Paco’s, which sat on the 18thfloor of a hotel in Santa Monica with a view of the bay, Diego waved at us from a prime window seat.

As we approached the table, he jumped from his seat and threw his arms around me. “So good to have you home, Ivy. Missed you.”

I kissed his cheek. “Missed you, too.”

“How’s the fabulous popstar?”

“He’s fabulous. Wait until you hear his new album. You’re gonna love it.”

Diego waved a hand over the table. “Already ordered three of those little pitchers of margaritas for us, and you can pick out the appetizers.” He rubbed his hands together. “I’m just thrilled you’re letting me in on one of your little escapades—even though you won’t tell me specifically why you’re breaking into your brother’s place.”

“The less you know, the better.” Chloe dropped into a chair and picked up a plastic happy hour menu.

I snapped a chip in half. “Are we going to break in or just pretend we’re there for a perfectly normal reason? I vote for the latter. We don’t need to commit a crime to get into his place. I’m his sister.”

“A sister who never visits him and avoids him like the bubonic plague.” Chloe ran her finger down the menu. “Nachos, taquitos, and quesadillas.”

“Sounds good to me, but that’s going to ruin my diet.” Diego patted his mid-section, and Chloe snorted.

“Diego, you drink like a fish. A few taquitos aren’t going to send you over the edge.”

After the drinks came and Chloe ordered the food, we got back to business. “True, I don’t visit Matt often, but we’re kinda in this thing together now. I have a good excuse to visit him.”

Chloe swirled her drink. “And I’m coming with you. You’re not doing this alone. One of us can be a distraction while the other...” she glanced at Diego happily making his way around the salted rim of his glass “—gets the thing.”

“Okay, so I make up some excuse to drop in on him, or maybe we just surprise him, and you come along. He’s always thrilled to see you, anyway.”

“He is.” Chloe did a little shimmy, which caught Diego’s attention.

“Eww, you still think he’s hot?”

“He may be a douche, but he is a snack.”

I held up my hands. “There will be no snacking involved. We both go into his place, and then you get him outside somehow. While you’re out of the apartment, I’ll retrieve the...um...item, and then we’ll dip out of there. He won’t even realize what we’ve done until I break it to him—once I’m out of the country again.”

“Okay, how am I going to get him outside if I’m not going to use my feminine wiles.” Chloe cupped her breasts and hoisted them up.

Diego tapped his glass with his painted fingernail. “Girl, put those things away. Ain’t nobody at this table interested.”

We all giggled, and I felt a warm glow suffuse me, which had nothing to do with the single sip of margarita I’d taken. Chloe had been my friend since high school, and we’d seen each other through many ups and downs. Diego had joined our clique about four years ago when Chloe had been working for his then-boyfriend. When they broke up, we got custody of Diego.

I coughed. “You could show him your car. He likes cars, and he hasn’t seen your Beamer yet.”

“Okay, that’s our plan.” Chloe smacked the table, rattling our glasses. “You think of some reason why you need to drop in on him, I ask him if he wants to see my new car, you grab the thing, Matt and I return for some more BS conversation, and then we leave with the...thing.”

“I think that’ll work.” I pointed at her empty mini pitcher and said, “I’m driving home.”

“Oh, go ahead and enjoy yourself. I can leave my car here and we can Uber back tomorrow morning.”

“Eh, I don’t even like drinking anymore to be honest.”

“Ugh, Ian’s turned you into an abolitionist.”

I exchanged a smirk with Diego. “I think you mean prohibitionist, and that’s another reason why you’re not driving us home.”

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