“Revising the script?” she asked.
Adri blinked, then looked down at her book and open laptop. “Yeah. It’s coming along nicely, I think.”
“What specifically are you working on?” Iris asked, sipping her drink. “Are you rewriting it?”
Adri’s smile was more akin to a flash of teeth. “You don’t rewrite Shakespeare. I’m just making subtle changes to adjust for our queer cast.”
Iris nodded. “I love that. Such a great idea.”
This time, Adri’s smile was genuine, and Stevie felt her shoulders release their hold on her neck.
“We think so,” Adri said, glancing at Stevie. “We first started working on this interpretation back in college.”
“Oh? You went to college together?” Iris asked.
Adri’s eyes narrowed. “You didn’t know?”
Iris sniffed. “I’m sure we would’ve gotten around to it. We’re not exactly spending all of our time talking about our exes.” She leaned over and kissed Stevie’s cheek. And not a sweet peck either, a slow, sort of open-mouthed press-and-seal just next to Stevie’s ear. Goose bumps erupted up and down her arms and she met Iris’s gaze as Iris leaned back into her own space.
Iris winked.
Fuck, she was good at this.
Stevie smiled at her—a real smile—but it dimmed quickly as she looked back at Adri, who was staring at them with her thick brows pressed together. Clearly, Stevie was actually a horrible actress.
“You know,” Adri said, leaning back in her chair. “Beatrice is a really difficult part.”
Iris tilted her head. “I would imagine. It’s Shakespeare.”
“She’s complex,” Adri went on. “Takes a certain amount of subtlety I’m not sure you possess.”
“Adri,” Stevie said.
“I’m just being honest,” Adri said. “I cast Iris and I stand by my choice, but I want her to be prepared to work.”
Iris pursed her mouth. “I can be subtle. I can be anything you need me to be.”
“So you’re saying you have no theatrical identity?”
“Adri, what the hell?” Stevie asked.
“It’s okay,” Iris said. “Adri’s just doing her job.”
“I am,” Adri said.
This time, Iris’s smile was a quick flash of teeth, and Stevie could feel her panic flaring again. Adri was a tough director, she knew. She’d been on the receiving end of her criticism more than once, which was fine, and Stevie was prepared for feedback. That was theater. And she’d certainly seen Adri dress down other actors—even caused more than one to cry and run off stage—but they weren’t in the theater right now. In this coffee shop, an accidental social interaction, Iris was Stevie’s girlfriend, not Adri’s lead actor.
“I think we should get going,” Stevie said, standing up. They’d barely touched their drinks but fuck it. There were a hundred other places Stevie could get Iris a flat white if she really wanted one.
“Right,” Iris said, not missing a beat. “Movie at my place tonight.” She laced her fingers with Stevie’s and pressed a kiss to the back of her hand, their fake plans rolling off her tongue like silk.
“See you next week?” Stevie asked Adri.
Adri nodded and smiled. “In Malibu. Don’t forget your meds, okay?”
Stevie frowned. “You know I won’t.”
“Just making sure,” Adri said, leaning back. “Remember that time we went to Austin? We had to call your doctor to send a prescription to a pharmacy there. It was a pretty big hassle and I need you on point for the retreat.”
Stevie just nodded but felt Iris’s gaze on hers. Iris didn’t know about her meds. Stevie wasn’t ashamed, not at all, and she figured she’d tell Iris eventually, but it wasn’t the sort of information she offered to anyone on the street.
Then again, Iris wasn’t exactly anyone.
Still, Iris didn’t ask for more details, and Stevie knew she wouldn’t. Not in front of Adri.
“Bye,” Stevie said, then she didn’t even wait for Adri to reciprocate. She simply turned and led Iris out of the shop and back into the warm summer air. She didn’t stop there, either, but kept walking, gripping Iris’s hand until they reached Iris’s car.
“Well,” Iris said, pulling away so she could dig into her bag for her keys, “that was interesting.”
“I’m sorry,” Stevie said, scrubbing her hand over her face. “I don’t think Adri’s buying this whole dating thing between us.”
Iris froze, then lifted her keys out, jangling them into her palm. “You think that was Adri not buying it?”
“Yeah. I mean, she was acting like a total bitch, like she was trying to catch us in a lie or something.”
Iris pursed her mouth, like she was fighting a grin. “Okay.”
“You don’t think so?”
Iris pressed a button to unlock the car, then slid into the driver’s seat. Stevie followed, closing herself in the sun-heated seat on the passenger side.
“I’ll just say this,” Iris said. “I think Adri believes us. I think she believes the hell out of this relationship.”
“Really?”
Iris nodded, then started the engine. “Where to?”
“I don’t know. You can drop me at my place, I guess.”
Iris’s shoulders went a little soft, and she stared out the front window for a few seconds.
“You know,” she said finally, “so far, we’re really fucking bad at crafting a romantic date.”
Stevie winced. “What, my bathing suit literally breaking, followed by an encounter with a power femme and topped off with my cranky ex isn’t romantic?”
Iris laughed. “Shocker, I know.”
“What can we do to fix that?” Stevie asked, because she wanted to fix it. She wanted to help Iris, hold up her end of the bargain.
And maybe, a little part of her didn’t want to go home to her empty apartment and listen to the pipes squeak while her neighbor next door took their fifth shower of the day.
“Well,” Iris said, “I’ve heard that watching a movie with some popcorn and an obscene amount of wine in a small town can be pretty romantic.”
Stevie tapped her chin, pretending to think. “That’d be a pretty good research opportunity for you, I think. I’m in.”
Iris grinned and threw the car into reverse.
IRIS’S APARTMENT WAS open and eclectic, with turquoise appliances in the kitchen, a vibrant red L-shaped couch, colorful pillows strewn around haphazardly. There were potted plants everywhere, herbs on tables and windowsills, various art on the walls, and twinkle lights twisted around the large main window’s curtain rod. In the adjacent room, there was a huge bookshelf, books organized in a rainbow of color.
It was all very . . . Iris. Even though Stevie didn’t know Iris that well, the apartment’s vibe fit her somehow.
“You have a lot of books,” Stevie said, then winced at the banality of her conversation. Clearly Iris had a lot of books.
“I do,” Iris said, heading down the hall. “Just let me change really quickly.”
Stevie nodded and perused Iris’s bookshelves, finding many of her favorites among the rainbow.
“Want a drink?” Iris said, coming back into the living and kitchen area wearing tight yoga pants and a fitted green tee, the color making her eyes look like emeralds. Her hair was still damp, drying in varying curly and wavy patterns.
“Um, water, if that’s cool,” Stevie said.
Iris’s hand froze on a wine bottle.
“You can drink,” Stevie said quickly. “I just shouldn’t on my meds.”
Iris nodded and put back the bottle. “No problem, sweetums. I’ve got seltzer.”
Stevie laughed and shook her head as Iris dug into the fridge and came out with two cans of LaCroix, handing one to Stevie as she headed for the pantry. She grabbed a giant bag of white cheddar popcorn and nodded toward her red sofa.
“Okay, so,” she said, plopping onto the couch and turning on her TV. “We’ve got all the basic streaming choices available. The question is, which romantic comedy is the most romantic?”
Stevie settled in the opposite corner and popped open her drink. “Hands down, Serendipity.”
Iris laughed. “Oh my god, a John Cusack fan?”
Stevie shrugged and hid her blushing cheeks behind the cool can. “I mean, he’s not my type at all, but I love the fate aspect of it.”