“Hi,” Iris said, and they waved in greeting.
“How’s the Jasmine Room, Satch?” Ren piped up from where they were cooking up a giant pan of scrambled eggs.
“Is that what it’s called?” Satchi said, pouring herself some grapefruit juice. “I can never keep all the room names straight in this place.”
“Yeah,” Ren said, glancing at Adri, who was very pointedly not glancing at anyone. “Me neither.”
“Ren,” Stevie said softly.
“What?” Ren asked, turning off the burner.
Stevie sighed and sipped her coffee, her eyes connecting with Iris’s for a split second before she looked away again.
“All right, what’d we miss?” Peter said, eyebrows lifted at Ren. “Drama already? We haven’t even done a read-through.”
“Speaking of,” Adri said, standing and pushing her glasses up her nose. “Let’s get started. Where the hell is—”
“I’m here, I’m here, thank god almighty, I’m here.” A person with deep brown skin and a mop of dark curls blew into the kitchen. They wore a bright red crop top and cutoff jean shorts. “Sorry, my rideshare driver was too cute and I lost track of time.”
Adri pursed her mouth. “Iris, this is Zayn. They’re playing Leonato.”
“Oh, fresh blood,” Zayn said, winking a heavily lined eye at Iris. Iris couldn’t help but laugh, and she liked Zayn immediately.
“Go easy on me,” she said.
“Never,” they said, but they were smiling.
“All right, let’s all meet out by the pool for the read-through as soon as possible,” Adri said, decidedly not smiling as she swept from the room. Iris wasn’t sure if she was in full-throttle director mode or if she was simply in a bitchy mood.
Everyone gobbled up their food and started toward the back deck. Iris hesitated over her own eggs, waiting for Stevie.
“Hey,” she said when it was just the two of them left. “You okay?”
Stevie nodded. Didn’t look at her. “I’m fine.”
“Okay,” Iris said, feeling suddenly and strangely shy. “I just wanted to check, because—”
“I’m fine,” Stevie said, her tone snappish. She sighed and pressed her fingers into her eyes. “Sorry. I’m just... Adri has me on edge.”
“Are you sure that’s all it is?” Iris asked, then immediately wished she could swallow the question down. She wasn’t sure what she would do if the source of Stevie’s worry was something else.
If it wasIris.
“I’m sure,” Stevie said, but her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. She played with the hem of her shirt, a white fitted tee with a picture of Ruth Bader Ginsburg printed on the front.
“What can I do to help?” Iris asked.
Stevie shook her head, but then froze. She met Iris’s gaze and inhaled slowly. “Take me out when we get back to Oregon?”
Iris frowned. “Take you out? Like on a date, or—”
“No. I mean, yeah, we can do that too for you. For your book. But I mean, I need to goout. Somewhere safe. A place where I can meet someone and try to... I don’t know.” Stevie’s lower lip trembled just a little. She bit down on it and shrugged. “Try.”
“Hey,” Iris said, taking a step closer to her. “You don’t have to rush this, you know.”
“No, I know, but I do.” Stevie shook her head. “I have to prove it to myself. Because no one else is going to see me as anything other than my anxiety until I do. UntilIsee myself that way.”
Her voice was rising again, just like it had last night when she’d come into their room shaking.
