“Mr. Santiago,” Madison says formally. “Your restaurant is beautiful.”
She’s got something up her sleeve, I know it.
“Thank you.”
“And your employees really like our smoothies,” the shorter blonde one says with a laugh.
“Do they?”
She nods. “Samantha’s on her way soon,” she says, suddenly sobering. “Can we speak with you for a minute?”
I nod. “Of course.”
We’re standing in the little hallway between the kitchen and dining room. I can see Toni gleefully wiping tables with a rag and spray bottle in hand. Weird kid.
I stand with my hands in my pockets. “Yes?”
Madison folds her arms. “Just so you know, this is Allie, and I’m Madison, and we’re Samantha’s best friends on the entire planet.”
“Got it.”
Are they going to threaten me?
“Our friend’s well-being is of paramount importance to us,” Allie says, holding my gaze without blinking.
“Naturally.”
“She may come across as worldly and experienced.”
I stifle a snort. “Worldly” and “experienced” are not adjectives I’d use to describe the woman who came when I damn near just breathed over her panties on my desk a few hours ago.
Not that I’m complaining. I love how easily she responds to me.
Madison continues. “But she’s… not.”
Allie shakes her head. “She’s definitely not.”
“And?” I ask. Like I care?
And then it dawns on me.
She’s a virgin.
They’re trying to politely tell me their friend is a virgin.
Oh.
Oh.
I try to process this while Madison’s eyes narrow. “And if you hurt her, you’ll answer to us.”
Yeah, I’m quaking in my boots over here. Abso-fucking-lutely terrified.
“Understood.”
“We mean it.” Allie makes a fist and smacks her palm, then immediately winces. She looks like she may need help smacking a mosquito, so I don’t feel particularly nervous.
I give them both a frosty look. “You know,” I say stroking my chin, “I have no intention of hurting your friend. And while your protection of her is admirable, I really don’t like being threatened in my own workplace, when I’ve done nothing to earn said threat, and in proximity of my entire staff.”
Madison blinks. “Don’t really care about that, big guy.”
Big guy? Are these two for real?
Allie nods. “Agreed. So agreed.”
I nod. I start walking toward them and they both sort of blanch. “As I said, I have no intention of hurting your friend.”
Allie’s lips purse. “That’s what they all say.”
I give her a withering look.
“But you need to leave now. This conversation is over.”
“Allie! Madison! Oh my God.”
Samantha stands in the doorway holding Prince under one arm. “What are you two doing?”
“Oh, nothing,” Madison says, giving me the side-eye as she goes to leave. “But you tell us if this guy pulls anything on you.”
I throw up my hands. Toni comes up to Sam and snickers, the little brat.
“Yeah,” Allie says, baring her teeth at me like a rabid chihuahua.
“You two get out of here,” Samantha and I say in unison.
We look at each other.
That was weird.
She blows out a breath, hands Prince to Toni and makes little scooching motions with her hands. “Toni, we’ll see you tonight. Be good.” Samantha bends over and kisses her cheek.
Oh, God. Ten seconds ago I was getting all worked up over them sticking their noses where they don’t belong, and now— seeing her with Toni’s affecting me more than it should.
“I’ll be good,” Toni says. She waves over her shoulder. “Madison’s paying me ten bucks if I am!”
Madison shrugs sheepishly, and the door shuts behind them.
“I should maybe consider that method myself,” I mutter.
I look down at Samantha. She’s done her hair up and brushed on lip gloss. I bend down and kiss her cheek, then snag a little rosebud from the vase on a nearby table. “Let’s go.”
“Aww, you shouldn’t have.”
“I did buy them all,” I say. “Do you like them?” I gesture to the flowers on the tables.
“How very… magnanimous of you,” she says with a grin. “So hey, I kinda have some breaking news.”
“Yeah?”
“Yep. But first, we need to talk to Toni’s case manager. They won’t talk to me since I’m not related to her or privy to any information, but if you give your written consent and tell them I’m working for you, they’ll allow it.”
“Ah. Working for me.” I pretend to think this over as we leave through the back entrance out to where my car’s parked. “I can deal with that.”
“Don’t get any funny ideas.”
“Do I look like a barrel of laughs?”
“You really don’t want me to answer that question.”
“But I do,” I insist, as I open the door and gesture for her to slide in.
“Wait, no driver tonight? Does he have the night off?”
“Sometimes I like to drive myself, on nights like tonight.”
“On date nights?” She grimaces. “Do you have a lot of those?”
“Actually, no.”
She doesn’t respond at first, as I navigate the congested streets of Boston. “Why not?” I can’t tell how she feels about this, since my eyes are on the road and she’s gone all tight beside me.