Chapter 62

Iris

Before I can think better of it, I pull my phone out of my pocket and send Alice a quick text.

“I’ll come with you tonight. What time?”

She responds within a minute: “The event starts at eight, but you should come to my place beforehand! We can get ready together.”

I hesitate, then agree to do just that; honestly, the idea of getting ready together with a girlfriend excites me, harkening back to my high school days.

Alice sends me her address, and I gather my gown, makeup, and accessories in a bag to go. Miles finds me as I’m packing the bag, his little brow furrowed with confusion as he stands in the doorway.

“Where are you going, Mommy?” he asks.

I turn, crouching to his level, and offer him a tender smile that I hope will soften the blow of what I’m about to tell him. “I have to go out tonight, sweetie. You’re going to stay here with Mrs. White. Is that okay?”

Miles’ face pales, and he quickly shakes his head. “No. I don’t want to. I don’t like her.”

Hearing him say that breaks my heart. For a moment I almost consider flaking on Alice, but I decide against it. The networking opportunities at this event are too great to pass up, and besides, Miles will have to get used to being around the nanny eventually. We went through the same rough patch with his babysitter in Bo’Arrocan, and by the time we moved, he was practically attached to her at the hip.

“Come here, buddy,” I say gently, opening my arms to him.

Miles pouts, refusing to move for a moment, but finally shuffles forward. I gather him into my arms, propping him on one of my knees so he has to look at me. “Hey. You and Mrs. White are gonna be friends someday. I just know it.”

He blanches. “I don’t think so. She’s not nice.”

I can’t help but agree, but I don’t say that out loud. Instead, I brush a strand of dark hair away from his forehead, and say softly, “She’s just from a different generation. Sometimes older people are more strict, that’s all. But that just means they care a lot.”

Miles pushes his lower lip out. “I don’t think she cares. I think she’s just mean.”

Finally, I offer, “How about this: Cliff will come and check on you at some point. You like Cliff, don’t you?”

“Yes. Why can’t he be the one to babysit me? We always have fun.”

“Because Cliff has another job,” I say. “His job is to watch the front door, so no one bad can get in. Mrs. White’s job is to stay here, with you.”

Miles huffs, glancing around. His eyes catch on the small pet bed in the corner of the guest bedroom, where the little orange kitten is currently curled up, sleeping soundly. “Scout gets to stay with me?” he asks.

I can’t help but chuckle, and nod. “Yes, of course. Scout always stays with you.”

Finally, Miles nods firmly. “Okay. Scout will tell you if anything goes wrong.”

“I’m sure he will,” I laugh, standing. I ruffle Miles’ hair and send him on his way to play, then finish packing my bag. Once I’m ready, I make my way downstairs, where Mrs. White is bustling around the kitchen. She glances up as I enter, her gaze flicking down to the bag in my hands.

“Going somewhere?” she asks.

I nod and set the bag on one of the stools. “Yes. I’m going to an event tonight. Can you stay here with Miles?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you, Mrs. White. By the way, I usually give Miles a snack around three o’clock; he likes an apple with peanut butter. Oh, and if he wants to watch a movie, he’s been asking about the new superhero movie that just came out on streaming services. Since I won’t be here, maybe you could order a pizza and he could watch it while he—”

“Children don’t eat on furniture,” Mrs. White cuts me off, raising her hand to stop me. “And pizza is very unhealthy.”

I blink. “It’s not like it’s an everyday thing,” I say slowly. “And Miles is very neat when he eats. You can put a towel down if you’re concerned, but he won’t make a mess.”

The nanny places one hand on her hip. “I’d rather he eats at the table.”

I sigh, not really having the energy to argue over something so mundane. “Alright.” I dig into my purse, withdrawing a couple of twenties. “This is for the pizza and anything else you might want. Treat yourself.”

She eyes the money suspiciously and doesn’t take it. I decide to leave it on the counter anyway, just in case. On my way out, I give her one last smile, not that I expect to receive one in return.

“Let me know if you have any trouble,” I say. “You have my number. I’ll come home right away if you need me to.”

“That won’t be necessary.” The nanny shakes her head curtly. “Miles will be perfectly behaved tonight.”

Something about the way she says that—perfectly behaved—unsettles me ever so slightly, but I let it go. On my way out the lobby, I ask Cliff to check in later, and he agrees. I make a mental note to check the nanny cameras at least once during the night just to make sure everything is going smoothly, then head to Alice’s place.

Alice’s apartment is a quaint little brownstone not far from Marsiel Gallery. She lets me in with a glass of wine and a smile, and we sip and chat as we get ready.

“Oh, Iris, that dress is fucking stunning,” she says as I slip into the midnight black gown. “It fits you like a glove.”

I take a deep breath, turning to the full-length mirror. It really does fit just the way it did when I bought it, the fabric hugging my curves and pooling slightly around my feet. The dress shimmers when I move, and once I throw my hair into a curly updo and add some shimmery eyeshadow and deep red lipstick to complete the look, I feel like a siren—especially with the slightly plunging neckline.

Arthur will think— I begin thinking to myself, but quickly block out the thoughts. No. I’m not going tonight for Arthur.

At least, that’s what I keep telling myself. But each time I do, it feels even more unconvincing than before.

Of course, for good measure, I put on my usual glasses and tweak my hair and makeup to complete my ‘Flora’ disguise. Although, my heart does pound a little at the thought of potentially being recognized.

“As if it’s not bad enough that people recognize me as Arthur’s human mate,” I muse, adjusting my necklace around my throat, “that last news report on me and Selina likely has people talking about Flora.”

Alice sighs as she primps her hair in the mirror beside me. She’s wearing a lavender purple gown that looks stunning with her complexion. “Well, if it’s any consolation, the event tonight is closed. No photographers allowed.”

My eyebrows shoot up. “Really?”

“Mhm. A lot of high-profile socialites attend this gala every year, and surprisingly, it’s only the celebrities who like to be photographed at events. Real rich people, as in the higher echelons of society, are actually quite low-key. They petitioned for cameras to be removed a few years ago, and they were.”

“That’s… reassuring,” I say, feeling marginally better.

Alice grins and turns to face me, showing off her curvy figure in her gown. “Well? How do I look?”

I can’t help but smile. “Gorgeous,” I say, linking my arm through hers. “Let’s hit the road.”