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She shifted her focus to the large-screen TV.
The Holmes @ Home set was meant to resemble a cozy sitting room. That iconic, three-meter-long, dark blue crushed-velvet Chesterfield sofa had seated uncountable toned A-lister bottoms in the two-and-a-half decades since the show had first aired.
Mike Homes, with his affable, startlingly white smile, perfectly styled light brown hair that never seemed to gray, and his trademark velvet smoking jackets—complete with a brown pipe tucked into the breast pocket—was a household name and one of the most instantly recognizable people in the country.
He was staring into the camera as he spoke—a move designed to make viewers feel like he was speaking directly to them—his genial smile never fading.
“Tonight’s first guest is an up-and-comer. Someone not used to the limelight, but partially responsible for one of the most shocking and impactful celebrity stories of the year. Please join me in welcoming the supremely talented Miss Evan Brooks to our sitting room!”
Chapter Twenty-Two
The air left Iris’s lungs in a shocked gasp as she stared fixedly at the screen, dreading what was to come but unable to look away. Like a terrified doe watching a train hurtling down the tracks straight at her, but too stunned by the noise and light to move out of the way before it mowed her down.
Mike Holmes was standing, arm outstretched as Evan lithely skipped onto the stage, looking ethereally lovely under the lights. Her strawberry blonde hair was up in a top knot, emphasizing the elegant line of her neck and shoulders. She was wearing a form-fitting pastel blue dress with a knee-length skirt and a simple boat neck, giving her an understated, yet classy, appearance. The make-up artist had done a great job of making her too-pale complexion look dewy and fresh.
Holmes air kissed her cheeks, and she turned to wave at the enthusiastically applauding studio audience, looking relaxed and confident. The man led her to the sofa and sat her down, before taking his seat—a massive winged armchair in the same color as the sofa.
“Oh my God,” Evan squealed once the audience had settled down. She made a huge show of stroking the sofa and then resting her cheek on the arm. “It’s just as comfy as it looks! I always wondered about that.”
The audience laughed appreciatively, clearly warming to her.
“Well, we’re happy you like it,” Holmes said with a wink at the camera, as if inviting the viewers in on the joke.
Iris swallowed painfully. Evan was in her element here. She’d have the host, the audience, and the nation eating out of her hand by the end of this interview. It sickened Iris to see Evan reaping even more rewards from her and Trystan’s misery.
“So, Evan, tell us a bit more about yourself. Where did you grow up?” Holmes invited, and Evan started talking about her family life, her adoring parents, her childhood cat—telling an amusing anecdote of the time Miss Pickles the cat had adopted a baby rat. It was all so frikking adorable.
Mike Holmes laughed on cue, listening raptly, prompting her with insightful questions, while expertly steering her toward the reason she was on the show.
“So where did you meet Iris Hughes?”
“At college. She was always a bit of a misfit, you know? Not quite sure where and how she slotted in. She latched onto me almost from the first. But I didn’t mind. She seemed like she needed a friend and she was nice enough, if a bit insecure. As I got to know her, I realized that she was absolutely riddled with anxiety.”
“Oh, my God. That’s not what happened,” Iris muttered, feeling the need to defend herself, even if Colby was the only one there to hear her. “She approached me. She’d heard my father was Stanford Carter and she wanted to know everything about him. She asked if I had any of his notes. Yes, I don’t make friends easily, and maybe I was too… eager to be liked by her. But she was so cool and confident. And?—”
Colby reached over and squeezed Iris’s knotted fists.
“You don’t have to explain, Iris. She’s not coming across as very convincing. Or sincere. Or likable.”
“What?” Iris’s head swung around to stare at Colby in disbelief. “She’s got them hanging onto her every word. You’re biased because you know me.”
“I’ve got really good at reading people since working at Brand EPS. She’s trying too hard to be coy and sweet. Instead, she strikes me as cloying and insincere.”
“You’re just one—albeit very astute—person. And, don’t get me wrong, I’m really grateful that you see through her but everybody else seems to be buying her act.
“I’m not so sure.” Colby shook her head, her expression thoughtful. “I’ve watched Mike Holmes’s show a few times. I’m familiar with his interrogation techniques…”
“Interrogation?” Iris repeated with a startled laugh. “Interview, you mean?”
“I said what I said,” Colby said with a slight grin and a lift of her chin. “Anyway, he’s building up to something.”
“And you and Miss Hughes—Iris—collaborated from the very beginning on this Trystan Abbott interview?” Holmes’s question yanked Iris’s attention back to the disaster unfolding on-screen. She recalled, with an unpleasant jolt, that this wasn’t happening live. That everything she was watching right now, had already happened.
Evan had force-fed the world these lies already and Iris knew that any attempt she made now to fix it would be futile. She’d had so many opportunities to tell her own story, to possibly temper the catastrophic impact of this interview while mitigating the damage already done with the article and the leaked excerpts from her journal. But Iris had been too proud and too afraid to defend herself. Proud because she believed that those who loved her and knew her would surely not need to be spoon-fed the truth, while the rest did not matter. Meanwhile she’d really been terrified that nobody would believe her if she actually spoke up. Why would they? When Trystan hadn’t.
While Iris had remained imprisoned at home, hiding from the world, the public had gone and made up their minds about the type of person they believed she was.
“Yes,” Evan said in response to the man’s question. “She approached Mr. Quinn, Trystan Abbott’s manager. He agreed to the interview and we decided fairly early on that the article would be published by Looker.”
