“What are we even going to talk about for an hour and a half?”
“Talk about your hopes and dreams. Your tragic pasts. Your favorite seaweed dish. Or just stare at each other longingly over breadsticks. Isn’t that what the humans do?” He gave her a wink. “Though, I’ll admit, your guy’s a bit … stiff. Like someone carved him from a block of dry salt. So, if all else fails, ask him about his political platform. We both know he can talk for hours about that.”
“True,” she agreed, sucking in a steadying breath. “Do I look okay?”
“No. You look stunning. Now go let the whole city be jealous.”
Not having a choice, Iris walked out of the bathroom and down the hall.
“Wow,” Finn said when he turned at the sound of her heels on the floor.
She liked the look in his eyes a little too much. So she rushed to grab her bag instead of letting herself soak in his admiration.
“We’re late,” she said.
Finn said nothing as he followed her to the door.
“Monty, don’t eat the cat,” she called.
“I’m going out too,” Monty said, waddling out with them. “I can’t help my nature. I would never actually eat him. His fur tastes funny, by the way.”
“Because I started using a perfume spray on him to stop you from putting your beak on him.”
“Rude,” Monty said, fluffing his feathers. “Do I look ready to party?” he asked.
He’d changed into a suit jacket instead. Iris had no idea where he even found clothes to fit him. But he did look pretty adorable all dressed up.
“Absolutely. You’ll be signing autographs in no time.”
“Of course I will,” Monty said, walking out of the elevator.
“Let’s take a cab,” Finn said, throwing a hand up in the air.
He tried to hide how he’d checked his watch again. “I’m always late,” she said, sliding into the back seat of the car. “My mother probably should have told you that.”
“We can still make it there in time.”
The restaurant was only a few blocks away. It was a brick building that had been painted black, with black awnings and a small number of outside seating surrounded by wrought-iron fences.
There were dozens of people standing outside, looking around, likely waiting for tables.
“We have to sell it,” Finn reminded her.
“I remember,” she said as Finn slipped out.
His hand extended to her, and she had to force herself to slip her hand into his.
They made their way through the crowd.
Cameras clicked. Phone screens lit up. A whisper floated by: “That’s the mermaid, right?”
Iris kept her chin lifted and her eyes forward, but it felt like barnacles were attaching to her skin.
It was impossible to tell if the stares were full of curiosity or judgment. Probably both.
“Henry will be pleased,” Finn said as they moved into the restaurant. And at those words, her heart felt like it deflated a bit in her chest. “Those pictures and videos should be circulating any moment now.”
Finn talked to the hostess as Iris turned around, taking in the surroundings.
