Jason's POV
Iris. Not Lysa.
I considered not answering—Iris was my childhood friend, someone I'd known since we were pups, but I wasn't in the mood for conversation. But she'd probably just keep calling until I picked up.
"Hello?"
"Happy birthday!" Iris's cheerful voice came through the speaker. "Where are you? I'm back from Paris for the week and wanted to see you!"
"I'm at Mercury Bar. Private room." I rubbed my temple, feeling a headache building. "But it's just a small thing. You don't need to—"
"I'm ten minutes away. Don't you dare leave before I get there."
She hung up before I could protest.
True to her word, Iris arrived exactly ten minutes later, bursting into the private room with her usual dramatic flair.
She stood by the door smiling, holding an ela
