• WATTYS 2022 WINNER •
When Iris Monet married millionaire Jared Darling, she had only one rule - that he could cheat on her with anyone except the household staff. This arrangement of theirs would have gone on quite happily if she hadn't caught him...
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THE good news is, I don't think he heard my conversation with Martha.
The bad news is it's because he's too busy taking in the fucked-up state of the barn.
"I can explain," I stammer.
Akai pushes open the barn door and steps inside. The sound of frenzied chicken clucking enters my ears and I feel something inside me shrivel up and die.
"It was an accident," I blabber hastily, "you see, the cow, it uh, didn't recognize me and freaked out, going on this ... this rampage! All around the barn! That's what cows do, right? Charge at things."
"You're thinking of a bull."
Akai has his back to me so I can't see his face, but his voice seems calm enough. For a second I feel relieved, hopeful even that I can somehow explain my way out of this.
Then he turns around.
I've never seen quietness look so angry.
"Leave." It's a single, short word, but it slaps me with the same force as my sister's lecture.
"Look, I can explain – "
"I don't need to hear it. I've seen enough." With every sentence, he moves forward. "You are not a farm helper. You have not the slightest clue what you're doing. I suggest you take your leave this minute, Miss Monet."
One more step and I'm pushed out the barn door. I hold my ground, but that doesn't stop him from coming close.
"Don't call me that," I snap.
"Call you what?"
"Miss Monet! My name is Iris."
"What I call you doesn't change the fact that you lied."
"I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry I lied, but I'm desperate!" As I say the words, I realize how true they are. "I need this job. Please. I – I need the money."
Akai is unmoved. "There are plenty of other jobs in Ryefair. The dressmaker's for example, or the diner. I hear the Ecclestons need a babysitter. Though looking at you, you probably have about as much experience with that as you do animal care."
Any other day I might have risen to the jibe, but today is not that day. "No, it has to be here!"
"And why is that?"
I can't handle this. Not Jared, not my sister, not the tabloid article. Certainly not Mr-Supposed-Heir-To-A-Company-Yet-Still-Spends-His-Time-Traipsing-Around-With-The-Geese. When he speaks, his cool breath ruffles my hair and tickles my ear; I can smell summer on him: the scent of freshly cut grass, leafy trees, and clean sheets drying in the wind. His eyes too, burning like the sun, giving me no escape, boring down on me, pressing down as they tear through my lies –
"Because I want you!" I blurt out.
Akai freezes. I freeze. Time vanishes.
Somewhere in the recesses of my mind, the Iris Monet Guide To Hooking A Man crumples up like an old newspaper before throwing itself off a cliff.
