Chapter Nine
Iris blinked as she heard Barrett and Penn reenter the building, pretending she hadn’t been staring blankly at her screen for the last thirty minutes.
It had been over two weeks since that mortifying night at Anya’s birthday gathering.
Barrett hadn’t mentioned it since, thankfully, but Iris could feel it in the air between them constantly.
This weird… intimacy of Barrett having seen her life, of knowing what she needed.
They’d communicated both with and without words that night, and Iris wasn’t sure what to do with that.
Barrett had, thus far, mostly followed her lead, and she was grateful for that, but, when Barrett was around, this unbearable pressure took root in Iris’ chest and threatened to burst free.
Still engaged in conversation with Penn—something Iris was certain was purposefully done—Barrett paused at the side of Iris’ chair and placed a paper cup down. Frozen yogurt today. Things were escalating.
“And how’s my favorite boy in all the world?” Barrett cooed, completely ignoring the froyo and reaching for Oscar’s little face.
He’d become just as bad as Barrett. Ordinarily, he’d go out with her for lunch—walk around the city, probably steal some of her food, and come back ready to rest easy in the afternoon.
Over the past two weeks, however, he’d become more and more insistent that he was staying in the office with Iris through lunch.
And Barrett hadn’t fought him on it. Oscar knew how to indicate when he needed the bathroom.
Plus, what Oscar wanted, Oscar got. Barrett had always been clear on that.
Now, he sat up in Iris’ lap, his body wiggling excitedly as his single eye looked brightly up at Barrett.
She laughed as he started licking her hand before she’d even reached into her pocket for whatever she’d brought him.
Iris froze, Barrett’s comment from weeks ago slamming itself front and center in her mind. Licking. She’d been talking about Oscar licking Iris, and how offering to do the same to win her over would have been unprofessional.
How had she missed that the first time?
Fighting the mortification, and keeping her eyes away from Barrett’s, she watched as Barrett produced a tiny container with two slices of banana in it.
Iris heard the smile in her voice as Barrett told Oscar, “Of course I brought you a yummy treat. Something for the best boy.”
Oscar wolfed the slices down without moving from Iris’ lap. She wasn’t concerned. So long as he was being fed a small amount of food, he wasn’t a messy eater. Barrett had commented the same was not true when he was eating his meals, but Iris couldn’t speak to that.
Even though Oscar was the focus of the interaction, Iris could feel Barrett’s gaze on her. She wouldn’t say anything, surely? Iris’ chest felt tight. Barrett couldn’t say anything. It would ruin… whatever the hell was hanging in the balance inside Iris.
The last few weeks had felt like drowning in a swamp. She’d tried to forget everything that happened, but nobody was letting it go, least of all her.
She’d done so much work since Natasha, pulled herself so far, and one night had destroyed it all.
She was still functioning at work, and she’d seen Anya a couple of times, but she was dying.
Air felt thick and suffocating, just existing felt impossible.
Every muscle in her body ached and her mind could not stop ruminating, digging deeper and deeper holes to bury her in.
She knew the feelings well, she just didn’t enjoy being stuck with them again. Her therapist claimed it was perfectly normal, given everything, but she couldn’t bring herself to believe that.
If Barrett shattered whatever this unspoken ritual was, Iris wouldn’t survive it. She was already changing it enough today.
Since that night, Iris had brought nothing bigger than a yogurt each day.
Some days, she hadn’t even eaten that. She’d refused each invitation to join the others for lunch—her heart ached that Barrett still asked every day.
And, somewhere along the way, Barrett had seemed to realize.
She’d taken to plying Iris with bigger, more frequent, milky beverages.
Then, she’d graduated to smoothies. Different ones each day, as if she was singlehandedly trying to ensure Iris got all the nutrients she needed.
Today, it was froyo with fruit toppings and chocolate chips.
And they never talked about it.
But, before she could say anything—if she was even planning to—Penn’s voice called Iris’ name. “You’re checking those building codes this afternoon, right?”
Iris whipped in their direction, pretending she didn’t hear Barrett’s soft sigh. “Yeah, for the McMillan project.”
“Fantastic. Keep me posted if anything weird comes up.”
“Are we expecting it to?” Iris stroked Oscar’s fur as he settled back into her lap. This was easy, she could talk about this. She could work and be useful and accomplished.
Penn smiled and waved the concern off. “Not necessarily. It’s just near a project I was on once, and the building owner was trying to hide some stuff. Really slowed things down and messed up a lot of plans.”
Iris nodded, relieved. Nothing was wrong. She knew how to look for hidden, incongruous things. And Barrett wasn’t standing by her desk anymore.
But the froyo was waiting for her.
Her stomach turned over. She hadn’t eaten anything all day. At least, nothing but the drinks Barrett had made her. She needed to eat, and she needed to do so before it melted. Plus, she didn’t want Barrett to think she was ungrateful. Barrett couldn’t spend all her time worrying about Iris.
She slid the cup across the desk, letting it rest in front of her as she turned to her computer and the building codes in question.
All her focus needed to be on ensuring she could put together a proposal that worked with them.
If she focused on that, her body would automatically eat the food in front of her and she wouldn’t have to think about it too much.
The only one watching her was Oscar, and she hoped he wouldn’t judge.
When Penn took their afternoon meeting into the conference room, and Barrett jumped on a call, Iris kept her eyes on the screen, but she reached for the wooden spoon stuck in the froyo and took her first, tiny bite.
◆◆◆
By the time evening rolled around and Penn was packing up to leave, Iris had made it through the entire froyo.
She’d also made an extensive list of questions for the electrical engineer on the McMillan project because that, it turned out, was going to be the crux of the issue.
The building was old, standing empty at present, and it would require a complete rework to both be compliant to current code and fit with what the client wanted.
Iris wasn’t worried, though. She was excited about completely reworking the space, and she knew the electrical engineer was good at what they did.
Whatever they had to say, she’d make it great—even if the client had not mentioned such extensive electrical work being required.
Penn grinned widely at Iris and Barrett as their partner, Santiago, arrived, swinging half his body through the door and calling ridiculously tender greetings to Penn.
“See you two tomorrow,” they said before basically throwing themself at Santiago and slipping into Spanish as he carried them out of the building.
Barrett kept working, and Iris felt like the quiet of the office was swelling, becoming its own entity now that it was just the two of them.
Barrett was sketching designs, and Iris found she wished she was doing the same thing as her eyes glazed over and ran across the same line of text over and over again, her brain absorbing none of it.
It took thirty-seven minutes for Barrett to speak, and, when she did, Iris almost yelped. She wasn’t sure if she was more relieved that the silent tension was finally broken or if she wished Barrett had simply slipped away without acknowledging her.
“Are you busy tonight, princess?” she asked, not moving towards Iris—or even turning around, as far as Iris could tell.
Iris’ mind chewed slowly on the question, as if parsing every word, as if she’d never been asked such a question before.
“No,” she replied eventually, and she wasn’t sure why.
She’d gotten into the habit of making out like she was incredibly busy whenever someone asked lately, but… Barrett asked and the truth was out.
“I’m, uh, about to take Oscar for a nice evening stroll, you know, since he didn’t want to earlier.
” Barrett still didn’t approach or move from her desk, and there was a hint of unexpected nervousness in her voice.
“And, well, if you wanted to join us, that might be nice. You know, for Oscar, of course. He’s a big fan. ”
“A big fan?”
“Yeah. Of you. Your work.”
“You think he sits in my lap every day because he likes my design work?”
Barrett laughed softly and Iris felt a sudden, ridiculous prickling behind her eyes.
“Yeah. He hates my stuff. Can’t stand it. Every time we walk into our apartment, he vomits on the door mat.”
“Ew. Barrett.” Iris physically recoiled. “I sincerely hope that’s not true.”
Finally, Barrett pushed against her desk and appeared at Iris’ side. “It’s not. I have immaculate taste and he knows it.”
“That remains to be determined.”
Barrett looked almost relieved as the massive grin spilled across her face. “I mean, if you wanted to come over, all you had to do was ask, princess. I’d have rolled the red carpet out immediately.”
“Well, at least that means you don’t always have a gaudy red carpet out.”
“I don’t, but maybe I should. Imagine how great it’d feel getting home to a welcome like that. Even leaving for work in the morning would feel special if I got to strut on the red carpet on the way out.”
“Don’t you like coming to work? Do you need help getting out the door?”
“I love it. But I’m learning you think my taste is awful right now. My pride is wounded. I need a pick-me-up.”
Iris scowled and stared at her. “I said nothing of the sort.”
“Oh, so you do love my work? Thanks, princess. Yours is pretty great too.”
Iris shook her head, but she couldn’t deny that some of the sick feeling that had been a permanent resident in her stomach the last few weeks felt soothed. There was an air around Barrett that just made everything feel like it would be okay. She’d never admit it to Barrett, but it was nice.
“Is that you disagreeing?” Barrett asked, faux outraged. She knew that wasn’t what was happening, but there was no stopping her once she was fixed on something. “Because, if it is, we’re going to be stuck here all night while I take you through every incredible bit of design you’ve ever done.”
Apparently, what she was currently fixed on was complimenting Iris. Unfathomable woman.
“Didn’t you just tell me you needed to walk Oscar?” Iris shot back, her heart stumbling when she realized she felt and sounded like herself for a moment. Fleeting though it was.
And who even was she? After seeing Natasha again and ending up back here, she was starting to fear this version of her was the real one.
That, in Natasha’s absence, she’d been building up a fake, unreal version of herself, one she’d tried to make real, but, when push came to shove, this was who she was. Weak, vulnerable, frozen, and lost.
Barrett’s bright smile was like a beacon to latch onto. Iris was still going to drown eventually, but, for a few moments, she could hold onto it and be okay. So she did.
“Indeed, I did,” Barrett said, standing up. “And I believe I asked if you’d like to accompany us. So, if you think you can stand my company for a while longer, in trade for the excellent company that is Mr. Oscar here… Iris, do you want to come for a walk?”
Iris bit the inside of her cheek. They didn’t hang out together outside of work. They weren’t friends. She shouldn’t be… taking up so much of Barrett’s time and energy. But she really did want to walk with them both.
She nodded, looking down at Oscar, as if he were the only reason. “Yeah. I’ll walk with you.”