Before I can stop myself, I ask, “Do you have any brothers or sisters? Why did you take over?” The voice in my head that sounds oddly like my mother scolds me:Mind your own business, Iris. The thing is, though, I can’t stop myself fromasking. I’m not prying to get a juicy scoop of gossip. For some reason, I care about his answer—more than I can understand. He pauses for a moment, then carelessly shrugs.
“I’m an only child. I chose to take over Aged Emporium because my dad poured his entire soul and life savings into the business. As you mentioned earlier, it would’ve been a shame to be forced to let it go.” His eyes twinkle. I can sense there’s more to this story, but I don't want to intrude. We aren’t even on a first-name basis yet; I don’t feel like I’ve earned the right to know the information I keep seeking out.
“I see—well, that is commendable. I hope it’s going well for you. What I said earlier still stands. We want to help supportyourfamily, so please consider our offer and get back to me when you can.” I rise to leave. I have a meeting soon, so as usual, I need to hustle. Being a procrastinator is great and all until times like this when it really matters.
“Thanks so much for meeting with me, Mr. Alcott. I look forward to getting closer—” I panic.Get closer? What the hell, Iris?“I mean, working together and getting closer to accomplishing some goals together.”Great. That’s just great, Iris. You arguably made that moment even more awkward.
He quirks an eyebrow while the corner of his mouth curls upward. “Sounds good,Ms. Greene.”There he goes again, using my last name in a mocking tone. I walk toward the exit, taking off my coat to raise it over my head as a shield before trekking into the rain.
“Are you walking?” Suddenly, he is at my side, practically towering over me. I'm about 5'5, so I'm guessing he is around 6'1. We pause at the doorway, stepping out of the way for any Little Falls customers entering or leaving.
“Oh, yeah, it’s a pretty short walk back to Soi—less than fifteen minutes actually, and I have a meeting soon, so I’ve really gotto hustle.” I glance at my watch. I’m cutting it close this time, causing my anxiety to settle in and make itself at home.
“Are you always in a rush?”
My brows furrow. “Um, sure. But what do you mean by that?”
“Nothing, just wasn’t sure.” He runs his fingers through his ink-toned waves. “Well, hey, I think your agency is actually on the way to Aged Emporium, so do you want to hitch a ride with me?”
“Oh no, it’s totally fine. I walk in all sorts of weather—rain, snow, hail—heck, I’d probably even venture out during an earthquake.” I laugh. To my surprise, he doesn’t.
“It’s no big deal, Iris. I insist,” he says earnestly. Typically, when strangers offer me rides, I am quick to reject them politely. Who am I kidding? I don’t think a stranger has ever offered me a ride. And to be honest, Mr. Alcott doesn’t feel all that much like a stranger for some reason… Screw it, I might as well. I don’t want to be late.
Seven
Jasper
Iris smells like a spoonful of vanilla dipped into a jar of honey. I wouldn’t have known this had I not offered her a ride. I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I glance at her using my peripherals—she’s wearing a pair of leggings that hug her thighs, knee-high boots, and an oversized burgundy sweater that nearly swallows her. As promised, I’m simply giving her a ride to Soi Marketing, then heading to Aged Emporium. Technically, Aged Emporium should already be open, but I highly doubt a line of customers will be waiting.
“Do you mind if we turn on some music?” Iris asks softly. I glance at her briefly and take note of her fidgeting with her hair.She wore it up in a high ponytail today, using a thick hair tie to keep it up.
“Yeah, sure, feel free to play whatever music you want.” I hand her the aux cord and look back at the road. Before she even begins playing music, I receive an incoming call from none other than my mom. She calls me often, so I reject her call this time, promising to call her when I get to the shop.
“Sorry about that,” I grumble then let out a sigh.
“Are you close with your parents?” I don’t know Iris well, but she clearly doesn’t shy away from asking personal questions. I’ll admit, I was taken aback by how formal she was during most of our meeting today. Based on my first impression of her at Little Falls earlier this week, I assumed she would be more peppy, but today, she was all business. A woman of many hats, I suppose.
“Yeah, we’re relatively close. I have dinner with them once every other week and do a breakfast thing once a month,” I share. “What about you? Are you close with your family?”
She hesitates before answering, still fidgeting. If I’m not mistaken, I’d say she looks nervous. “Somewhat.”
Somewhat. Who would’ve thought a one-word answer could be so telling? We sit quietly, listening to music. Again, I subtly glance at her just in time to see her squeezing her eyes shut.
“Who sings this?” I blurt out, trying to distract her from whatever is plaguing her mind. She gapes at me, clearly shocked by my question.
“This is“All Too Well”by Taylor Swift,” she says matter-of-factly. Geesh, I didn’t realize this was a touchy subject. “You know who Taylor is, right?”
“I mean, I know who she is, but you won’t catch me belting out lyrics to “Anti-Hero”in my spare time,” I say, keeping my eyes on the road. I take a left turn and pull into Soi Marketing’s lot. Soi Marketing is right next to the forest; my shop is nearby on the other side of the road.
“Aha! You’re more than familiar with her. You were able to reference a song casually without me even asking.” I fold and crack a smile. Earlier this week, it was hard to miss the amount of smiles Davis threw her way. I think I’m starting to understand why. I park in front of Soi Marketing’s building and turn to look at her—she’s beaming. She likes pop stars. Note taken.
“Well, thank you so much for the ride, Mr. Alcott. I appreciate it and look forward to hearing from you.” There she goes with the formalities again. I’m happy to play along.
“Of course, Ms. Greene. Anytime.” She opens the door and jumps out, dashing into the office building like a track star. I pull out her business card. This is the most feminine, dainty card I’ve ever seen, and I used to work in the industry amongst plenty of other businesswomen. Her name, written in cursive lettering between the pale pink corners of the card, catches my eye.Iris Adelaide Greene.Sure enough, the card includes her cell phone number.
Just before pulling out of the lot, I notice a man with light brown—or maybe dark blond—hair leaning on the outer wall of Soi near the forest, his hands in his pockets. I look closer, and upon further inspection, I recognize exactly who he is. Damn, this man isobsessedwith his girlfriend. Frankly, I’m beginning to feel concerned for Iris. I lock eye contact with him—oh, please, for the love of everything, not this again—this time, he simply nods his head, inclining for me to follow him. Feeling confused but too curious to walk away, I shut off the car and follow along.
I walk toward him hesitantly, and then he trots into the evergreen forest. While following in his footsteps, I recognize the sun has come out of hiding for the first time today. Its rays shine down on the forest, enfolding us and accentuating the fresh dew drops on every leaf and stone. The sound of the running stream captures my attention. Chrysocolla Cove is surroundedby forests. Several tree-covered groves connect to the greater forest, even in the central part of town. I glance around, realizing we’re entirely secluded. I remind myself of the way this man regarded me earlier this week. I’ll admit, in hindsight,maybefollowing him into the forest was a shitty idea, but how badly could this go?
