Chapter 3: An Invitation

Ariana couldn't help glancing back at her daughter again. In the end, she said nothing, turned away, and quietly slipped back into her chores. "Wesley, Big D is one of Mr. Dustin's boys. You beat them up today. They're not going to let this slide." Noah shuffled over, worry clear on his face as he spoke to Wesley. "Mr. Dustin?"  Wesley narrowed his eyes. "You mean Dustin from the South District?" "Yes, it's him!" Noah's jaw tightened. Wesley smiled. "Mr. Noah, relax. Whatever happens, say it was me." Noah sighed. Wesley had stepped up for the Lynch family, so he couldn't scold him further. "Wesley!"  Tiffany came running, beaming up at him, whose features were striking despite the plain clothes. "Tiffany, focus on your shift. If anything comes up, please tell me. I'm heading out."  He turned and strode away. Tiffany went after him, but Ariana caught her by the wrist and pulled her back. Tiffany stamped her foot, then stayed put. Wesley didn't look back, but he knew exactly what had happened. People like the Lynch family lived at the very bottom and were accustomed to being taken advantage of. Their instinct to avoid trouble was only natural, and he didn't take it to heart. Following the street, he reached a delivery hub set up near the slum. "Wesley, Ms. Iris has been waiting for you forever." A young delivery guy greeted him with a grin the moment he stepped in. The guy's name was Donovan. The two of them got along better than most at the hub. "Iris?" Wesley frowned. Earlier, outside the yard, he had spotted an Aston Martin sports car worth over a million dollars, guessing it might be hers. Since Iris had come, he had to face it. He headed inside. "Wesley, there you are!"  Before he even crossed the threshold, an exquisite beauty swept toward him. Iris looked twenty-seven and wore an ivory bodycon dress. The cut hugged her lush curves and slim waist. Her figure was sumptuous, her face luminous like porcelain.  She stood there like a ripe peach, soft and juicy at a touch. Crystal heels gleamed beneath her, and her hair was swept up in a sleek updo. Poised and regal, she had the kind of presence that made most people feel small by comparison. She was Iris. Once, she was carjacked and driven out to the waterfront by thugs. Wesley had chased them down and saved her. Ever since, she had started showing up at the courier. From the moment Wesley appeared, Iris's gaze seemed fixed on him alone. Her eyes never left him, and more than once she lifted her slender fingers to brush nonexistent dust from his shoulder. Seeing this, the other delivery guys chuckled. Single guys mainly staffed the courier service. Since Wesley arrived, things had changed. Good-looking women started dropping by with snacks all the time. Iris and Tiffany had become regulars. Even Donovan found it baffling.  How could a woman as stunning as Iris take to Wesley? At the end of the day, he was just another delivery guy, yet women seemed drawn to him. "Iris." Wesley gave an awkward smile. Being fussed over like a brother by a stunning older woman in front of everyone made him uneasy. "It's sweltering. I brought some watermelon. You want some?" Iris glanced up at him, her eyes shining. "Watermelon? I'll pass." Wesley smiled awkwardly. A ripple of laughter ran through the room. "If not watermelon, then let me buy you a coffee," she said smoothly. "Coffee? That's not necessary." "Oh, come on. I've asked you so many times, and you still refuse. Come on, do me a favor and say yes." Her glance was playfully scolding. "Wesley, go. I'll run those few deliveries for you," Donovan chimed in, waggling his brows at him. With everyone pushing, there was no polite way to refuse. Besides, he didn't care about work performance. "All right. If you insist, I'll go." People around them could only stare, at a loss for words. With a delicate, high-born beauty to invite him out, any other guy would be tripping over himself to oblige. Wesley made it sound like he was doing Iris a favor. However, Iris was over the moon. She slipped her arm through Wesley's. "In that case, let's go." The gesture drew another round of stunned looks. A breathtaking, haughty beauty on the arm of a delivery guy from a rough part of the slum looked more than a little mismatched. Wesley stayed calm and let her keep his arm as they stepped outside. Iris, in both figure and face, was the real deal. In the grubby slum, a woman like her turned every head the instant she appeared. As soon as the two of them emerged, people stared. Iris paid them no mind. She handed Wesley the car key. "I'm in heels today. They're a pain. You drive." Wesley knew it was just an excuse, but said nothing. He tapped the fob, and the doors tipped upward at a graceful angle. The Aston Martin's swan doors opened as if poised to take flight, giving the car even more swagger. "Wow!" Cries went up. The car and the stunning Iris complemented each other perfectly, making her seem even lovelier and more aristocratic.  Next to Wesley, though, the pairing looked even more incongruous. Wesley didn't care what anyone thought.  He slid behind the wheel, and Iris, beaming, walked around to the passenger seat. Vroom!  The engine roared to life, and the Aston Martin shot off in a plume of dust. "Holy crap, Wesley knew to drive a car like that!" someone blurted as the growl faded. Even so, it was Iris who held their attention.  Truth be told, a woman as refined as Iris showing up in a place this run-down was every delivery guy's secret wish. Her departures always left a little hollow ache. They knew she was out of reach, but even one more look felt like a gift. In the car, Iris turned to Wesley, perfectly composed. "Wesley, what kind of coffee do you like?" Between her poise and the gleam of the car, the whole scene was breathtaking.