“It’s nothing,” Astrid said.
“It’s delightful,” Iris said. “There’s this putt-putt place over in Sotheby called Birdie’s, and it’s twenty-one and up. They have the wildest courses. Like entire shipwreck scenes with mermaids anddeserts and jungles. Plus, they serve booze. It just opened up a few months ago, and we’re all going tonight. Want to join?”
Iris talked fast, her hands flying all over the place, leaving Jordan feeling like she was watching a show where the sound wasn’t linking up with the actors’ mouths. It took her a second to realize she’d been invited to an outing. A boozy putt-putt outing.
“Oh,” she said.
But before she could form an actual sentence, her brother appeared around the rosebush. She was starting to really hate that damn rosebush.
“Hey, there you are,” Simon said, that ubiquitous worried crease between his brows smoothing out for a second. “Everything okay?”
Jesus, she was tired of that question.
“I’m fine,” she said. “Just chatting it up with Astrid and Iris here.”
Simon frowned at her overly bright tone but turned to face the other women.
“Hi,” he said, smiling widely at Iris, “I’m Simon, Jordan’s twin brother.”
“Simon Everwood,” Iris said, pursing her mouth as she looked him up and down. “The author.”
His charming grin shifted into hisOh, you’ve heard of little old meexpression. “That’s what they tell me.”
Iris’s brows lifted. “Who’sthey?”
Simon just laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Good question. Some days, I’m still figuring that out.”
Iris laughed. “Well, I’m sure Violet could give you a hint.”
Violet was one of the main characters in Simon’s debut novel,The Remembrances,a sweeping family saga set in LA filled with dysfunction and existential crises aplenty. Last fall, the book sat on theNew York Timesbest seller list for nineteen weeks. Since then, though, he’d been struggling to finish his next novel.
Simon’s face took on an expression that could only be described as elated. “You’ve read it?”
“I tolerated it.”
Simon clutched his chest but laughed and said, “Ouch,” which just made Iris smile even broader.
Jordan caught Astrid’s eye, an expression likeCan you believe these two?passing between them. Jordan started to smile, but then Astrid yanked her gaze away.
“Anyway,” Jordan said loudly. “I’m off to do some work.”
“Hang on,” Iris said, reaching out and actually grabbing her hand. “Say you’ll come tonight. Both of you.”
“Iris, for god’s sake,” Astrid said.
“Come to what?” Simon said, and Jordan groaned inwardly.
“Oh, we’ll be there,” he said after Iris explained the event, just like Jordan knew he would. He slung an arm around Jordan’s shoulders and grinned. “Most definitely.”
Jordan had never considered fratricide before, but suddenly, the concept sounded incredibly enticing.
Chapter Twelve
ASTRID SAT INthe back of Claire’s Prius, Iris stuffed next to her in the middle seat, while Jillian, Iris’s very new, very beautiful girlfriend who currently lived and worked as an attorney in Portland, occupied the other side. She had short blond hair that seemed to have a mind of its own, but made up for the mess with her power suits and butch style. Tonight, she’d left the suit at home—or Iris’s apartment—and instead favored jeans, brown dress shoes, and a navy blazer over a white tee. She rarely spoke, but when she did, it was always something devastating, like “My firm has box seats at the Met, we should all fly out some time,” as though that was something their group justdid.
Even Delilah thought Jillian was a bit much at times, and she’d lived in New York City for twelve years.
The relationship was new, and Iris was extremely smitten. After a relatively calm breakup with Grant this past fall, her boyfriend of nearly three years, Iris had laid off the dating scene until Jillian walked into her shop a month ago. The woman said she found Iris on Instagram and was willing to pay top dollar for a custom planner.
