She appears taken back for a second. “Oh, fun—let me guess. Accounting?”
I smirk. “Not so fun, but yes, accounting. You’ve got me pegged.” Suddenly, I hear a rumble of laughter that doesnotbelong to Iris. I see him sitting in the seat next to me, using my peripherals.
Oh, great, he’s back. He just comes and goes as he pleases with zero notice either way.
“I’m sure that makes running your business a bit easier,” she says softly. “Do you ever miss it?"
"Accounting? Nah, I just pursued that as a means to an end while obtaining my master's degree in finance."
"Oh, wow! A master's degree is definitely something to brag about," she says excitedly. Here we go again.
"I actually didn't earn the degree," I say nonchalantly. "I flunked one of my classes the same day my dad fell. Instead of heading back to class after the accident, I stayed here, taking over Aged Emporium for the unseeable future. Appreciate your sentiments, though."
Her brows furrow. "You said all of that as if any of it was your fault. Sure, you failed a class, but I am certain you still would've been able to get the degree eventually. Instead, you chose to support your parents, which was pretty selfless if you asked me. Honorable, too."
I stare at her, stunned. Iris doesn't know me, but she singlehandedly soothed a tainted part of my soul without even trying. After another beat of silence, she clears her throat and warmly says, "Well, I want to respect your time, so let’s get started.”
Eleven
Iris
Joy actuallyknowshim. She doesn’t just know who he is—she knowshim. I shouldn’t be surprised. Joy is a local. He is a local. They’re both bound to know each other. If they went to high school together, then that means he is closer to my age than I initially anticipated.Ah, there I go again, exercising my ability to overthink.He looks up, waiting for me to continue. For some reason, I cannot focus. Today he’s wearing yet another sweater, but this time the light gray tone brings out the smoky clouds in his eyes.Focus, Iris.
“So, previously we discussed a pretty open timeline for the event. Have you thought any more about when you would like it to take place?”
“When would you suggest it takes place?”
His question surprises me. Nine times out of ten, usually the client has unrealistic demands and expectations. Rarely do they ask for my opinion at this point. Jasper isn’t like every other client I’ve had, though. Based on what he shared earlier, something tells me he is a bit self-critical, too.
“Well, it depends on the type of event. If we host a masquerade ball, it’d be wise to shoot for December so we can roll with a Winter Wonderland aesthetic.” I say as a swarm of decor ideas for a Winter Wonderland ball flow in. He suppresses a laugh, swiftly cuts a glance to his left and then his eyes wander back to me. I would’ve missed it if I hadn’t been watching.Oh, good, I’m not the only one who can’t focus right now.
“December it is. I’m good with a ball, too; those always seem to go well in movies,” he says. Now, I’m the one laughing.
“I mean, if we’re being real, masquerade balls almost never go well in movies,” I tease. “Have you ever heard of that one princess? Cinderella? Her prince couldn’t find her for weeks following the event.”
He rolls his stormy eyes playfully. “I may not be cultured enough to know Taylor Swift’s voice live, but I’d have to be living under a rock to not know who Cinderella is.”
“So glad we’ve covered that,” I poke fun. “Let’s settle on Saturday, December 16, if that works for you?” He nods, so I continue. “On another note, I checked out your social media accounts for Aged Emporium—they could use some work. Do you use social media?”
“Eh, I use it a fair amount. I’ve been meaning to use it for Aged Emporium, but the market in the Cove is so small, I didn’t realize it’d make a difference, honestly.”
“I understand; it’d be great to focus on building Aged Emporium’s online presence through Instagram and TikTok, especially leading up to the event. Do you have updated pictures we could use?”
He pulls out his phone, scrolling through pictures, pausing on one to show it to me. “Well, this is all I’ve got at the moment.” I stare at the picture. It’s an image of the Aged Emporium sign outside in a golden sheen, the sun’s rays shining behind it. I’m shocked he doesn’t seem to like this picture.
“Wow, this is a great start! I could totally see us using this. Well, considering you don’t have additional pictures, do you mind if we stop by to take more pictures sometime soon?”
“Sure, want to stop by today?” I consider his offer, but decide against it.
“I would, but I need to complete Joy’s onboarding before going anywhere. Would Wednesday work for you, maybe? I’m sorry I can’t stop by today,” I apologize. He knits his brows, peering into my eyes.
“Why are you apologizing? It’s not a problem, Iris. Wednesday works just fine, and even if it didn’t, there’s no need to apologize. Taking pictures of the shop is your idea anyway.”
He has a point. I don’t even know why I apologized this time. It just comes naturally, I suppose.
“Fair point. I rescind my apology.” I smirk. He chuckles and leans back into his chair, running his fingers through his hair. “Hey, you called me Iris for the first time.”
“Not the first time, Iris.” My name rolls off his tongue like honey. I think back, failing to remember the first time he actually used my name. He glances at the wall on his right, catching a view of my diploma. I graduated with a degree in Public Relations, focusing primarily on Event Planning throughout college.
