Iris


    The next morning, I''m holed up in my studio again, finishing up the static television painting Miles is ying on the floor by my feet-he''s barely left my side all morning, too shy of the new nanny to be alone with her.


    Not that I can me him, nor do I mind. It''s nice to hear him talking to himself and making airne sounds as he ys with his toys.


    I''m just finishing up the final brushstrokes, inky ck to represent the dark room surrounding the television, when my phone buzzes, and I nce at the screen to see Alice''s name staring up at me. Curious to see what she needs, I answer.


    "Hello?"


    "Iris," she says, and I can hear her usual smile through the phone. "I have a teensy-weensy favor to ask of you..."


    I set aside my brush, pinching my phone between my shoulder and ear as I wipe my hands on a nearby rag What''s up?"


    66


    "So, the Ordan Culture Society has this annual charity g, and I just got an invite. I''m allowed to bring a plus- one, but I don''t have a date, and honestly, I''d rather go with you anyway. What do you say?"


    "When is it?"


    "Tonight."


    For a moment, I hesitate, toying with the idea of going. It''s awfullyst-minute, and if Arthur isn''t going to be home tonight, I''m not sure if I feelfortable leaving Miles with the new nanny just yet.


    Alice, sensing my hesitation, adds, "There are going to be a lot of high-profile Ordan artists and gallery owners there. It''s really good forworking."


    That changes things. Making connections in the art world is crucial, even more so now when I''m trying to get better footing in my career. I nce down at Miles and consider how important it will be for us to have our own ce again. For all I know, I might meet the right people who can put a good word in for me at Abbott Gallery, which would be a huge boon for us.


    Still, I have a lot of work to do on my presentation, and I don''t want to leave Miles alone after his harrowing day yesterday. So, despite the urge to say yes, I tell Alice I''ll consider it and let her know as soon as I can./


    "Alright," she sighs, sounding a little disappointed. "I guess I can go alone, but if you change your mind, please let me know!"


    "I will," I say, feeling a little bad. "I promise."


    After that, we hang up and I turn back to my canvas, my eyes scanning the painting onest time. It needs to dry before I put the coat of finish on top.


    Just as I''m about to ask Miles if he wants something to eat, I hear the front door open and close downstairs. I crack the studio door open and peek out into the hallway, expecting to see Arthur or even Mrs. White.


    But instead, I''m both surprised and disappointed to see Selina ascending the stairs.


    She stops at the top of the stairway, her eyes locking onto mine with a predator''s efficiency.


    "Oh," she says, her nose wrinkling with something I can only describe as disgust. "You''re here."


    Just seeing her after that awful news report the other day makes my blood boil. I close the studio door behind me, not wanting Miles to be exposed to her cruelty.


    “Hi, Selina,” I say, folding my arms. "Arthur isn''t here right now, if you''re looking for him."


    Selina rolls her eyes and struts past me, heading straight for Arthur''s room. "I know he''s not here," she calls over her shoulder.


    Her tone makes me bristle. In private, it seems her sweet demeanor from the other day haspletely dissipated, her usual sour attitude having returned now that cameras aren''t on us. I already had a pretty good idea before, but now I''m even more certain that she intentionally put on a show the other day, knowing fully well that we were being recorded and that it would make me look ba