9. Iris
Chapter nine
Iris
L ily and I stop in the mall between the north and south lanes of traffic on Broadway, sharing the very large umbrella she luckily remembered to bring. The rain pelts down, making the red light ahead appear blurry. The sound of the raindrops hitting the umbrella drowns out every other sound except for the car wheels slick-slacking in the puddles. We’re on our way to Fairway to pick up cookie-decorating supplies for Lily’s festive holiday baking party today.
“No. You don’t understand. I leaned in and closed my eyes. And I waited for him to kiss me. And he didn’t. I almost kissed him. I’m so mortified. He’s the monk. I even called him the monk.” I wince just thinking about it.
“He knows you were drunk,” Lily says.
“I was drunk, but that’s no excuse. I’d sobered up a bit by then. Ugh. I can’t believe I did that.” I shudder. “And I forgot to give him back his sweater.” It smelled so good. I had to make myself take it off and put it in a bag to return. I need to nip these feelings of attractions in the bud now.
“Are you sure he didn’t lean in too?” Lily faces me.
“I don’t know. I don’t think so. He’d just opened up to me about why he was single. I can’t believe I went to kiss him…and now I have to work with him.”
“And you have to see him at my cookie party.”
“Is he definitely coming?” And why is my heart racing at the thought that I might see him again? This is bad. “You need to make sure we don’t end up together. I invited this guy Ernest from work so I can get a better feel for him.”
“You did? I’m excited to meet Ernest, then. And of course Sebastian’s coming, but he’ll be late because he had to go into the office first,” Lily says. “But wait, he told you about why he is committed to being single?”
“Yes.”
“I think that’s significant. He usually blows off that question.”
“It was a we’ve-both-had-too-much-to-drink moment. I don’t think I can read anything into it.”
“I’ve always thought it was because his standards are too high—as if he’s searching for some perfect woman. Was it anything like that?”
“Mm, not really,” I say. It did sound like he’d idolized Melody to some extent. And he certainly seemed to hold himself to high standards. He seemed to be really beating himself up over the fact that he’d trusted his friend.
The light turns green. Lily scoops her arm through mine.
“But what if you guys do date? That will be so much fun. You guys would be perfect together. And he’s a good guy, so there’s no way he’d cheat on you.”
“Ernest also seems like a really good guy,” I say weakly.
I definitely shouldn’t have told Lily. I expected her to give me a good common-sense talking to, that Sebastian is a fortress and I shouldn’t get my hopes up. But she’s so happy in love that she’s blinded by it. Maddie will give me the hard truth that I should steer clear of liking him.
We enter Fairway and head straight for the baking section. We pick up green, red, blue, white, and pink sprinkles. I grab some silver stars while Lily adds molasses to our shopping cart. We find the rest of the items from our list and check out.
We walk back outside and up Columbus Avenue and across 79 th Street to Rupert’s apartment, our progress illuminated by brightly glowing stars hanging from the lamp posts. I pull up my hood to keep my head warm in the freezing rain.
“Sebastian dropped a hint that Rupert is thinking about proposing,” I say. “He said I should organize a scavenger hunt for your engagement party.”
Lily beams. “Rupert’s definitely planning something. I think he’s waiting for my dad to come back for the holidays first, but he’s asked me some casual questions about rings recently. As if he’d be randomly thinking about rings. He said his assistant asked him about it for her daughter. I thought he’d ask one of you guys.”
“He hasn’t asked me,” I say. “But I wouldn’t be much help. Do you have a preference?”
“Not really,” Lily says. “That’s what I told him. It’s the meaning behind the ring that matters. But obviously not something too showy. I want to be able to wear it to work at the library, and I don’t want to feel self-conscious.”
“That makes sense,” I say.
Lily asks me what games we played at my sister’s party, and I tell her about them. But I can’t help thinking about Sebastian. I should be thinking about Ernest, but all I can think about is what Sebastian’s reaction will be when we see each other again. Will it be totally normal? Or awkward? And which is better?
M iranda and her boyfriend have been assigned to make the sugar cookies, while Zeke and Tessa are making hedgehog cookies. Tessa probably is the most skilled baker among the seven of us. Maddie is making chocolate chip cookies because we all love her recipe. I’m making gingerbread cookies.
“We’re thinking Memorial Day weekend for our wedding,” Tessa says. “We found this loft space in Brooklyn where we can hold the ceremony and reception.”
“We want to arrange lots of cool New York City activities for all the guests,” Zeke says.
Mr. Devi arrives next. He’s brought a pan full of samosas, and my mouth waters just thinking about eating them later. He bows out of cookie making but takes a seat on the couch next to Mrs. Potter, who is co-director of the local community garden with Lily. The way Mr. Devi and Mrs. Potter look at each other makes me wonder if there’s something more between them. Lily tried to set them up, but even though they each told her they have no interest in getting married again, they look very comfortable together. Mr. Devi is teasing Mrs. Potter, telling her he is sure he saw some poison ivy in her garden.
Maybe friends to lovers will be their new trope too.
No Sebastian yet. Maybe work is keeping him.
I texted Raphael to make sure I didn’t have to come in—once I heard Sebastian was going to be here and I was looking for an excuse to avoid him—but he said it had been handled and even he wasn’t in the office this weekend. What did Raphael find? How could we not need to do more? My curiosity is killing me.
Did I just switch the salt and the baking powder? I check the recipe again. I did it right. I line up the rest of my ingredients so my distraction doesn’t result in inedible cookies. Lily would never let me bake again.
Next up is to add the flour into the rest of the dry ingredients, but I’m not careful, and some puffs out, covering my front in a fine layer of white dust. Great. I add the rest of the ingredients, mix the batter, and then separate the dough into two halves and cover it in plastic wrap to let it sit. Now to wash all the dishes and clear my space so I can roll out the dough. I head to the sink.
“I’ll wash those for you,” Zeke says. “I’ve just finished ours.”
“Thanks.” I pile the dishes on the counter.
Rupert greets someone enthusiastically in the hallway, and then Sebastian stands in the doorway to the open living room and kitchen area.
I’m spotted with flour and wearing a huge apron. Not exactly my best look.
He half-smiles, looking quite comfortable.
“Sebastian, maybe you can help Iris?” Lily winks at me. She gives the impression of a sweet librarian, but she definitely has a mischievous streak underneath. So much for helping me avoid Sebastian at her party.
Sebastian flashes me a quick glance.
“Oh, sure,” he says.
He hesitates a moment before walking over. He bites his lip like he’s thinking about what to say. Cute. But this is so awkward. I know I should apologize—before he tells me again that he’s not interested in dating.
“I’m here to help.” He smiles as he joins me at the counter
That’s good. He’s acting normal.
“Do I need an apron?” He gestures to mine.
“You didn’t bring your own?”
“I’m not sure I own one.” He holds up his hand. “But I do cook, before you get the wrong impression.”
“You’re just tidy,” I say.
“I could probably use an apron,” he says.
“If only I knew who your Secret Snowflake was,” I say.
“Let’s see if Ernest brings his own, if he comes,” Sebastian says. “If not, you could buy him an apron.”
“How did you know he’s invited?” I ask.
“I invited him,” he says. “Wait…”
“So did I,” I say.
He glances at me, his eyebrow raised.
“You’re okay with aprons but not underwear?” I tease. “Doesn’t that send a domestic message?”
“Aprons are as safe as socks,” he says.
“Interesting. I have to get the cookie cutters from the pantry. I’m so jealous that Rupert has a pantry.”
“I’ll come too.”
The pantry is a large walk-in closet lined with shelves. It could be in a magazine spread. As I reach up to grab the tin, which is, of course, on the very top shelf because it’s probably not used often, Sebastian says, “I’ll get it.”
He reaches over me. Way too close. What is he doing? I hold my breath. I don’t dare turn around because he’ll be right there.
The warmth from his body recedes. I grab the rolling pins.
“Hmm,” Sebastian says from behind me. “Your apron’s coming untied. Let me fix it.”
His hands brush my back. That memory of his hands on my hips…and the almost-kiss last night when I leaned in. My cheeks heat up.
Aprons are definitely not in the same category as socks.
“All done,” he murmurs so close to my ear that it gives me shivers.
My body has not received the message that this is not allowed. I need to tell him I’m sorry, and this closet seems as good a place as any. Especially since it’s private.
I turn to face him.
“I’m sorry,” I blurt out. “I know I leaned in to kiss you, and I know you want to remain single. I’d just had too much to drink.”
“No need for apologies,” he says. “I’d also had too much to drink…and I also leaned in to kiss you.”
He leaned in too . It wasn’t just me. Thank you .
“I’m obviously attracted to you…” he says.
He’s attracted to me?
He continues, “But given our circumstances, I don’t think it would be a good idea to have a relationship—or even a fling.” And his gaze briefly flicks to my lips again.
And then I focus on the second part of that sentence. A fling. Lovely.
“Yeah, definitely not.” Although as our glances meet, and he’s so close, I am tempted. We’re both single, and we could act on this attraction. But then I’d probably really fall for him and be left pining.
“As I said before—”
Oh, no . I definitely don’t want to be told again that he’s committed to remaining single.
“I got the message. Don’t worry.” I hand him a rolling pin, although seriously, dude needs to move on past this best friend. Especially if she’s engaged. “You can roll out the gingerbread dough first.”
He blinks and takes the rolling pin.
I slide past him and return to the counter. I’m sure the dough has had enough time to warm up. It certainly feels hot in this kitchen.
Sebastian rolls up his sleeves. Attractive forearms. Again. This feels like torture. And he can actually roll out the dough, especially because he’s putting a bit of muscle into it. I could happily watch him all day. Yummy.
“Where’d you learn to roll out cookie dough?” I ask.
“Mom. I told you, she’s a big Christmas fan,” he says. “The Hallmark movies are already on, and I have a standing invitation to come over every Friday and watch with her.”
“And do you?” I ask. He doesn’t strike me as the Hallmark movie type.
“Usually. My dad’s health isn’t great, so I’m trying to spend more time with them.” Sebastian looks down. “But it’s tricky. Because we often end up disagreeing, and that certainly doesn’t help his heart.”
He looks so vulnerable and lost.
“It’s good to still spend time with them.” I gently cover his hand with mine. He looks up and smiles wryly.
“It’s weird to contemplate losing your parents,” he says. “Not that he’s that ill, but the doctor says he needs to exercise more. My mom took that as an excuse to get a dog, so now he has to walk it.”
“Is it working?”
“Surprisingly, yes. My dad takes long walks around Central Park with Pepper, and he’s made a whole new circle of friends at the dog park. It’s a whole new life for him. He was a private equity partner, and he worked hard his entire life. He was kind of at loose ends when he retired. But now he’s fundraising for a renovation of the dog run. He takes it very seriously. He’s running it like he used to run his company. My mom had a dinner party the other night, and he solicited donations like he used to pitch for investment capital.”
“I always wanted a dog too, but my hours are so erratic at work that I’ve been holding off. Also, I’m not sure Fatma will tolerate a dog.”
“Don’t tell my dad you want a dog. He’ll have you at the pound in no time.”
I smile. “How come he hasn’t persuaded you to get a dog?”
“He’s focused on trying to get me to work at his fund. But that’s probably next on his list.”
“Why don’t you want to?”
“I’m not sure family and business should mix…just like friends and business don’t mix.”
Does that mean he’s against dating in the office? Is that why he doesn’t want to try dating? Or is he still not over his ex?
“Should I bring anything for your parents’ party?”
He shakes his head. “Just brush up on your Hallmark movies, given our cover story.”
“Is Mrs. P. going to be there?” I ask.
“Probably. And please don’t bring anything. My mom can’t wait to meet you because she’s consumed with curiosity about the woman whom I wandered around Baby Love with, pretending to be a couple. She thinks there’s something more.”
“I’m coming to show her there’s not?” I ask, completely confused.
Sebastian reaches out and brushes my cheek with his fingertip. His touch reverberates down to my toes.
“You had some flour on your cheek.” Sebastian’s glance meets mine and holds it. “I’ve already said there’s probably something more. You don’t agree?”
I hold his glance. “You’re crossing the line.” I draw a line in the cookie dough.
“No flirting?” he asks.
“Not if you want me to play fair,” I say.
Sebastian’s eyes light up. “I’m not sure I want you to play fair.”
My lips curve up. Playing dirty can be a lot of fun. And it may be a safe way to explore this attraction between us. Unless he is really committed to remaining single. I need to remember that Lily and Tessa both described him as “Mr. Single.” I could get hurt if I pursue this.
Sebastian picks through the tin of cookie cutters, laying the options out on the counter.
“No demon cookie cutters in here. Only angels. I’ll have to make my own demon.” He takes a gingerbread man cookie cutter and lightly presses it into the sheet of gingerbread dough. With a knife, he adds a cape and horns. “To not playing fair.”
I press a cupid cookie cutter into the dough, its arrow aimed at Sebastian’s devil. “To not playing fair.”
He makes a few elves and some gingerbread men. I make a tree, a star, a few gingerbread women, and then a whole bunch of hearts.
“Another heart?” he asks.
“Getting worried?” I ask.
“No.” He makes a snowman. “My heart is ice. I’m safe.”
“No way.” I cut out a sleigh just as Jingle Bells plays in the background over the speakers. “Your devil is perfect for my sleigh.” I place my sleigh shape on the cookie tray under his devil. He adds a gingerbread man and woman next to the devil on the sleigh.
We carefully lift the rest of our cut-out shapes onto the tray and then add the sprinkles. He covers his devil cape with red sugar powder, which I then sprinkle all over my hearts. We take turns adding green sprinkles to the trees. Blue sprinkles make my star pop.
I make a heart in the leftover scrap of dough.
More people have arrived, gathering in the living room, chatting and catching up.
We put our tray of cookies in the oven and return to roll out another batch.
“Hi, I thought I’d join you guys.” Ernest faces me and puts out his hand to shake. “Thanks again for inviting me.”
Excellent. Ernest is the type of guy I should be going for—even if it feels like a chaperone just crashed our tête-à-tête.
Sebastian has made it clear he’s not in the market for a relationship. It’s time to focus on Ernest.