so I don’t laugh. “A two-digit number,” she chirps proudly.
Too much. I’m a goner. I laugh like I’m high. This girl. A minute ago, she was crying. Talking shit about herself, echoing what I bet she hears from her mother all the time. Now she’s smiling and making me laugh with her antics. Even after what I know must have been years of taking crap from Moira, her spirit is irrepressible.
I could learn a thing or two from her. About finding joy. About choosing happiness, no matter what life hands you.
“So, you thought I was thirty.”
Her smile is wicked, and she shrugs coyly. “-ish.”
Thirty-ish. “Damn,” I hiss like she’s punched me in the gut.
Still, she thought I was that much older, and she still kissed me. That’s got to be encouraging.
Doesn’t change the fact that she turned your ass down.
I swallow that bitter pill again, but the bastard keeps coming back up.
Her silent phone continues to flash Moira’s name across the screen. Iris hugs herself and nods toward it as though it could bite her.
“Would you text something to her? I’m afraid if I pick up the phone, I’ll cave and just answer it.”
I grab the phone before she changes her mind and tap the custom message icon. When the app opens, I type:
I won’t be answering now. We’ll talk next week.
“What about this?” I show Iris the phone.
Her eyes round. “I’d never be that blunt.” She tips her gaze up at me, beaming. “Send it.”
I do. Five seconds later, Moira calls again. Iris’s smile falters.
“What do you think about blocking her? Just for now?” I float the idea.
Iris sighs, but then she surprises me with a nod. Taking this as permission to do the honors, I tap Moira’s contact and block her. I like the sensation it gives me more than I should.
Iris’s frame relaxes next to me, and I like that even more. “Now what?” she asks.
Before I can form an answer, her phone’s screen lights up with The Juliet Boutique Hotel.
“Ssshit,” Iris curses. “That’s where she’s staying.”
I don’t hesitate to block that number too.
She looks up at me. “You are seriously my hero right now.”
I hold back my grin. Iris could do all of this herself, but I know it’s easier for me. A hell of a lot easier.
“Maybe we should just put my phone on DND. She’ll keep calling.”
An unwelcome thought pops into my head. “Will she come over here?”
Iris shakes her head and gestures toward the windows where the storm blows. “Not in this weather. Moira is afraid of things that she can’t control.”
Classic bully, I resist the urge to say.
“You should see her every time we have an earthquake above a 2.2. She pushes people out of her way to get to the exit,” Iris says with a sour smirk.
I’d love to comment, but I don’t. No need to make Iris any more ashamed of her mother. Thanks to my Dad, I know only too well what it’s like to have a parent who makes you cringe.
“So then the storm buys us a little time,” I say, but even with that, I don’t know how to help her with her search for a manager, and she’ll need someone soon. I don’t know what Moira is really capable of, but I doubt she’s going to take this lying down, and she could do some real damage on her way out. “But I think we need reinforcements.”
Iris blinks. “What do you mean?”
“You should call Ramon.”
As soon as I speak his name, it—along with the goofiest picture of Iris’s PA in an Aquaman costume—lights up her phone.
Eyes wide, Iris rips the phone from me and taps the speaker icon.
“Ray?” she asks, sounding keyed up.
“Good God, Iris, what have you done? Moira is losing her shit. She won’t stop calling, and Sally just showed me your Insta. Holy fuck, chica! Professor Dance Pants looks hot all wet like that.”
Iris chokes. “Um, Ray—”
“Oh crap. Am I on speaker?” Ramon’s question hangs in the air. I watch amusement dance over Iris’s features.
“Um… Maybe?” she squeaks.
Silence.
“And Professor Dance Pants?” Ramon asks, irritation eeking into his voice.
“Is right here,” I answer, trying to keep the amusement from mine.
“Great. Warn me next time, would ya, Iris?” Ramon mutters something indecipherable. “Now, tell me what’s going on. And, like a good friend, I’m warning you that I’m putting you on speaker so Sally can listen in.”
Iris beams. “Hey, Sal.”
“Hey, honey. What’s up? Things sound kinda crazy down there.”