Me: How’s your dinner? Then I watched. Waited. She took her time slipping her phone from a small clutch. Even longer to reply. Iris: It’s rude to text when you’re on a date. If you need something, text Matt. He’s my man tonight. Me: Matt’s your guard. Nothing more. From across the room, her eyes flicked to mine. Her lips curled in a slow, unreadable smile. Iris: Like the way you’re just my guard? Same thing?
