"I'm not picking anyone. I work for them."
"Zay. You have a hickey on your neck from one and kiss trauma from another. You're not just working."
"It's complicated."
"It's really not." She turned the radio down even though it wasn't playing. "You like them. They like you. You're both single. What's complicated?"
"Their mother threatened to destroy your scholarship chances if I get involved with any of them."
That sobered her. "What?"
I repeated what Camille had said. About Iris's application. About how my behavior reflected on her prospects. About how nothing happened in that house without consequences.
Iris processed this in silence while I merged onto the highway. Traffic was light for a Sunday afternoon. The city skyline appeared ahead, gray and familiar and nothing like the fairy tale mansion we'd just left.
"That's garbage," Iris said finally. "She can't do that."
"She absolutely can."
"But I'm smart! My grades are good! I didn't do anything wrong!"
