Page 54 of Devil's Iris
“You won?” Now she looks at me, curiosity swirling in her gaze.
I love that look.My lips tilt up. “It was only the first appearance, but I have no doubt I’ll win.”
She nods thoughtfully. “Can I ask who you represented? Or is that confidential?”
“That part is public. It’s someone you know, actually.” I chuckle when she twists to face me in surprise. “Remember that night at the police station? It’s the guy I came to bail out.”
“The guy who killed his friend. I heard the cops talking,” she adds when I raise a questioning brow, and I nod in acknowledgement. “Did he really do it?”
“Now, that would be breaching client confidentiality, Miss Barlowe.” I keep my tone light, earning the smile I was aiming for.
“Fine, keep your secrets and your client’s. That’s what you're good at anyway. But don’t expect me to share any of mine anymore.”
Before I can ask what she means, the car pulls to a stop in front of the boutique. “Is this where we’re going?” Her voice comes out breathless. “Romero, no. Absolutely not. Their stuff is veryveryexpensive.”
“You’re cute.” I chuckle, getting out of the car.
“I’m serious!” she continues protesting as she exits as well, gesturing frantically at me over the roof of the car to get back in. I ignore her and circle around to where she’s standing, practically vibrating with anxiety in front of the store. “Do you have any idea how much these places charge?”
“Come on.” My hand slips onto her lower back, and I lead her inside.
A bell chimes as we walk in, and a woman behind the frontdesk immediately stands. Without asking who we are, she steps out. “Welcome, sir and madam. Mrs. Raine is waiting in the back room. Please follow me.” She turns and takes us through the expansive main showroom.
Leni shoots me a wide-eyed look, her mouth twitching before she whispers, “Mrs. Raine? Is she the owner of this store?”
I shrug because I have no fucking idea who she is either. “Guess we’re about to find out.”
When the woman opens a door for us, stepping inside is like entering another world. Unlike the main store with its racks of hanging garments, this space resembles an elegant living room. A plush couch, two armchairs facing it, a side table stacked with fashion magazines, and along the walls, closet-like shelves displaying carefully curated pieces.
There’s a woman in the corner sorting through dresses with an assistant, and when she sees us, her face lights up like we’re long-lost relatives.
“Mrs. Lombardi!” She abandons what she’s doing and rushes over, reaching for Leni’s hand. “It’s such a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
“Oh, hi.” Leni’s smile is unsure as she glances up at me and back at the woman. “I’m not Mrs. Lombardi.”
“Yet,” I correct with a smile of my own. Hearing her addressed by my name fucks with my head. I want to hear her called that all day, every day. Mrs. Charlene Lombardi.Fuck yes.
The woman waves it off. “It’s only a matter of time before it becomes official.” She taps the engagement ring with one manicured finger. “Now, come, I’ve gone to the lengths of curating some dresses I think you might like. If you don't like them, we can find others, of course.” Without waiting for a reply, she hooks an arm through Leni’s and steers her towards the seating area, chattering all the way.
“Mrs. Raine?” I question, just to be sure.
“Yes—oh, where are my manners?” She gives a quick, sheepish pat to her forehead before releasing Leni and extending her hand to me. “Penelope Raine. I’m the manager here.”
We shake, then she directs me to sit on the couch while she takes Leni towards the assistant waiting with an armful of dresses near the display area. She proceeds to show Leni various options, and I settle back to observe, thoroughly enjoying watching my woman deliberate over her choices like it’s a life-or-death decision.
Finally, she approaches me with four dresses draped over her arm. “What do you think?” She holds them up for my inspection. “Which one?”
I study the four options critically, my gaze lingering on a Payne gray that reminds me of her eyes. But honestly, aside from the colors, I can’t really distinguish the details with the way she’s holding them up, so I go for a diplomatic response. “Which one is your favorite?”
“Well, they’re all beautiful. That’s why it’s so hard to choose. I like them all.”
“Then we’re taking them all.” I snap my fingers at the assistant standing next to Penelope, and she hurries over. “Show my fiancée to the fitting room so she can try them on.”
“You want me to try them all on?” She stares down at me like I’m crazy, biting that lower lip again. “Do you know what time it is? We’ll be late for dinner.”
I make a show of checking my watch. We have maybe thirty minutes before we need to be at Rafael’s, and factoring in traffic, we’ll definitely be late if we don’t leave immediately. But watching her face light up as she models dresses for me? That’s worth being late.
“Yes, I want you to put on a private show for your husband.” I look back at her with a smirk. “As for dinner, who cares if we’re a little late? They’ll wait for us.”
