Page 132 of Iris Kelly Doesn't Date

“ ‘It is Stevie Scott as a secretly tender and wounded female-identifying Benedick that sets this interpretation apart,’ ” she said out loud, her voice small, almost awe-filled.

Stevie waved her hand. “It’s one review.”

“It’s amazing, Stevie.You’reamazing. You know that, right?”

She said it so quietly—almost sadly—that Stevie frowned. “I think I—”

“No,” Iris said, grabbing Stevie’s hand. “You’re incredible, full stop.”

Stevie searched Iris’s eyes, which were a little glassy-looking. “Are... are you sure you’re okay?”

Iris inhaled deeply then smiled. And right there, Stevie saw it—that mask Iris wore, the one Stevie hadn’t seen in over a month, slide over her girlfriend’s expression.

“Well,” Iris said, all smirk and flirt, “I’m incredible too, so, yeah, I’m great.”

Then Iris turned away and went over to where Satchi was peering into a lighted mirror, asking to share the space. Soon the two were laughing and joking as Iris put on her makeup. Stevie kept eyeing Iris as she got ready herself, wondering what she was missing, but Iris never let that mask slip again.

THAT NIGHT’S PERFORMANCEwas their best yet.

Everyone said so.

But Stevie didn’t feel it. Iris was lovely on stage. She was flirty and sly and vulnerable, but something still felt off about the whole production, every time Benedick and Beatrice interacted—a stiffness to Iris’s expression Stevie couldn’t seem to break through.

Now, in the private backroom at Nadia’s, champagne flowing and the lights dim, art donated by local artists on the walls and up for auction, Stevie couldn’t even find her girlfriend.

“What a night, huh?” Adri said, coming up next to Stevie. She looked gorgeous, dressed in a strapless black bandage dress, her mermaid hair pinned back on one side.

“Yeah,” Stevie said, taking a sip of her club soda. “You really pulled it off.”

Adri smiled, nudged her arm. “Wepulled it off. ThatSeattle Timesreview sold all the tickets for this dinner, I’m pretty sure.”

Stevie shook her head. “It’s one person’s opinion.”

Adri nodded, eyes scanning the buoyant crowd. “Where’s Iris?”

Stevie finally spotted her across the room, standing with Claire and Astrid and looking gorgeous in a grass-green dress, straps as thin as thread hooked over her shoulders. Her entire friend group had come tonight, and Stevie saw Delilah wandering the room with Jordan, checking out the art. Simon, of course, was part of the company, so he was around here somewhere too.

“She’s with her friends,” she told Adri, then glanced at her ex. “Where’s Van?”

Adri’s expression slipped for a second. “She’s around.”

“You two okay?” Stevie asked.

Adri sighed. “I think so. I just... I’ve been a bit of an idiot.”

Stevie said nothing to that. She and Adri hadn’t really talked outside the play since Adri’s power moves in Malibu, and Stevie wasn’t sure she wanted to go there. Not tonight.

“I’m going to talk to Iris,” she said, then walked away before Adri could say anything else.

She wove through the crowd, nodded at Ren who was chatting with Nina and Satchi, not slowing down until she reached Iris’s side.

“There she is,” Iris said, her voice a little slurred as she looped her arm through Stevie’s. Her champagne glass was half full, but she still managed to slosh a bit over the sides.

“Okay, you’re cut off,” Astrid said, taking Iris’s glass.

“Ever the proper lady,” Iris said, wrinkling her nose at Astrid.

Stevie frowned. “Are you drunk?”