“Why not?” she challenges, and I know immediately what I’m in for.
I don’t even bother with pretense. “Because your boyfriend is a southern gentleman.”
Iris’s smile at this is epic. Her tri-colored eyes dance. And even though I know she likes what she hears, I also know I haven’t won this argument.
She clears her throat. “Well, your girlfriend isn’t from the past—”
I bark a laugh.
“—so you’ll have to indulge her,” she finishes with a jaunty tilt of her chin and shoves her credit card in my face.
God, I love this woman.
I take it from her because I plan on indulging her as long as I can.
We place our order of cheeseburgers, tater tots, cheese sticks, iced tea—mine sweet, hers unsweet—and a plain junior burger patty for Mica, and pull up to the window.
“I know it’s wrong, but fast food smells so good,” she says, almost swooning. Mica sticks his head into the front seat, sniffing as if in agreement. “I haven’t had a cheese stick in at least five years.”
The attendant repeats the total, and I hand over Iris’s card. “When was the last time you had fast food,” I ask her. Knowing what I know about the way she eats, I can’t imagine she lets herself cut loose very often.
“At Bush International Airport in Houston when Sally and I were on our way back from the AT.” A guilty smile overtakes her face. “I knew Moira was going to impose a juice cleanse and a strict diet before we started filming, so I let myself go a little crazy.”
I grin, loving that even when she was under Moira’s thumb all the time, she still rebelled in her own way. “Where’d you go?”
“Cinnabon,” she says like it should be obvious. “Go big or go home.”
I’m laughing when the Sonic attendant hands Iris’s card back to me. “Sorry. Your card was declined,” she says.
“Wait. What?” Iris leans over me to make eye contact with the girl. “Could you try again?”
“I tried it twice—” The girl does a double-take. “Do I know you?” She narrows her eyes on Iris. This kid can’t be older than seventeen.
“Um...Maybe. Are sure about that card?” Iris asks, clearly getting rattled.
The Sonic girl looks down at the card again, and her eyes bug.“Iris Adams?”Her gaze shoots back at Iris. “What?! You’re Raven Blackwell!Whaaaat?”
“Yeah, I am. Can you just—”
“Hey!” Sonic Girl calls over her shoulder. “Y’all, it’s Raven Blackwell. Right here in the drive thru.”
“Oh God,” Iris mutters.
“Is this a problem?” I ask in a hushed voice. “We can leave if you don’t want them to see y—”
“It’s not that,” Iris says low, shaking her head. “It’s the card. It’s Moira. I think she’s done something to my card.”
I look back at the drive-thru window to find it crowded with teenagers, all slack-jawed. Some of them have their phones out.
Iris brings her gaze back to them and puts on a smile. “Hi guys. How’s everybody?”
A chorus of replies floods out of the window:
“We cool.”
“That’s not really her. Looks like her though.”
“Can I get your autograph?”
