Page 80 of Ice To Meet You

I pulled out the pen I’d used to secure my hair and searched my desk for a ribbon or even a rubber band. As I glanced around, a prickle ran down my neck, drawing my gaze to a pair of sparkling eyes.

Iris.

She stared at me from across the gallery, arms folded over her chest. A huge grin decorated her face.

I froze, my cheeks blasting hot. She raised an eyebrow before joining me.

“I wondered where you’d got to. Your hair looks a bit dishevelled. That’s not like you.”

I ran my palm over my wayward waves, pushing them into some sort of order as best I could. “Humidity. There’s a problem with the boiler. I had to check it out. Steam. That sort of thing.”

Her smile widened even more. “Steam? Who knew?”

“Yes. I lost my clip in the fog. I’m just trying to find something to tie a ponytail.”

Iris gave her head a little shake. “Well, it’s a good thing you have a friend like me to rescue you.”

Her hair gleamed in the gallery lights as she crouched behind my desk. She’d left her bag there first thing. She and Luc were at the gallery surveying the final exhibition preparation. Keys and perfume bottles clinked together as she rummaged through her purse.

“Es,” Matteo’s husky voice reached me, and I turned to find him standing behind me. His eyes glowed as he handed me my missing claw clip. “I thought you might need this.”

I took the clip like a robot, all too aware of Iris’ proximity “Thank you. I don’t know where I could’ve lost it.”

I widened my eyes and nodded behind me, trying to alert Matteo to her presence, but he just grinned. “Lola found it in the storeroom. I had to come up with some crazy story about the boiler and using the clip’s teeth to work some screws loose …”

That second, Iris popped up from behind my desk. “Oh, hello, Matteo. Who’s been loosening Esmé’s screws?”

At her words, I strongly considered melting into a puddle and seeping through the floorboards. I’d never seen Matteo’s cheeks fire so red.

“I was just returning … that,” he mumbled, pointing to the clip in my hand.

“So I hear. Those old boilers can be so … unpredictable. Prone to sudden bursts of heat when under pressure.”

His eyes widened, and he shuffled from foot to foot.

Iris chuckled and took the claw clip, putting it on my desk. “Esmé, can I speak to you about something? I believe I left some papers in your apartment.”

I nodded, devoid of a sensible response.

“Wonderful,” she said, taking my hand. “It’s lovely to see you again, Matteo. Though you might want to re-button your shirt properly and clean the lipstick from your neck.”She looked at my mouth and smirked. “Pink really is your colour, Esmé.”

Matteo opened his mouth, but I could only stare at him as Iris led me through the gallery and up to my apartment.

The second we stepped inside Iris closed the door behind us. “What the hell is going on?”

“Sorry?” I asked, heading to the kitchen and running the tap for some much-needed water.

She followed me, her grin imprinting onto my back. “Okay. I’ll just come out with it. Am I imagining things, or did I just witness a very guilty-looking exit from a compromising situation?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, my voice far too trembly to plead innocence.

She huffed a laugh and sat down on a stool at the kitchen bench. “Esmé, your hair looks like a family of sparrows could take up residence. Matteo was covered in your lipstick. And is that stubble rash on your cheeks?”

I brought my hand to my face, my stomach in freefall. “Oh, God.”

“I doubthecan help you now,” she said. “I think it’s time to come clean, don’t you? Think of me as your confessor. I’m very forgiving.”

I pulled up the other stool and slumped into it. “If I’m in confession, what I say has to remain private, right? Just between the two of us?”

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