"I need to go," she said abruptly, already backing away.
"Wait—what about dinner to discuss—" Middleton called after her, but Libby was already weaving through the crowd, her confrontation with Liam now flavored with this new information about his summer in Paris.
The service hallway was dimly lit and blissfully quiet after the celebration's noise. Libby followed it around a corner, where it opened into a small alcove clearly used by staff for breaks. Liam stood alone, phone pressed to his ear, his back to her. His posture was rigid, his free hand clenched at his side in a rare display of visible tension.
"—unnecessary complication during playoffs," he was saying, his voice tight with controlled frustration. "Yes, I understand your position, Kate, but these matters aren't subject to your approval."
Libby hesitated, not wanting to eavesdrop but riveted by this glimpse of Liam pushing back against his aunt's interference.
"The ESPN opportunity is not our concern," Liam continued, making Libby freeze in place. "No, I haven't discussed it with her. These decisions are hers alone."
He paused, listening, his shoulders tensing further. "Anne's travel plans are her own business. If she chooses to attendthe Montreal games, that's her prerogative. It doesn't change anything."
Another pause. "No, there's no need to continue this discussion. I've made my position clear."
Something made him turn suddenly, and his expression shifted from irritation to surprise to careful neutrality in the span of seconds as he spotted Libby. "I have to go," he said into the phone, his tone final. "Goodbye, Kate."
He slipped the phone into his pocket, his public mask back in place with impressive speed. "Libby. Is everything all right?"
"No," she replied, her voice steadier than she expected given the storm brewing inside her. "I need to talk to you about Jane."
Something flickered in his expression—wariness, perhaps, or resignation. "I'm not sure this is the appropriate time or place."
"For a conversation about how you interfered in my sister's relationship? When would be convenient for you?"
Liam's jaw tightened. "The situation between them required careful consideration."
"Required whose consideration? Yours?" Libby's voice rose. "What gives you the right to make that call?"
"Team dynamics during playoffs are delicate," Liam replied, his voice controlled but with an underlying tension. "The relationship between an assistant coach and medical staff could create complications."
"Complications," Libby repeated, her voice dangerously quiet.
"It’s not just that," Liam said, frustration cracking his voice. "Chase was already planning the wedding, and your sister—she’s perfectly professional. She’s guarded. I didn’t think she felt the same way. I thought she was just… flattered. I didn’t want to see him destroyed when the novelty wore off."
"You thought she was indifferent?" Libby stared at him. "She’s not indifferent, Liam. She’s shy. She’s professional. She’s terrified of ruining his career."
"It's not that simple?—"
"It's exactly that simple," Libby interrupted. "Unless, of course, the real complication is that Jane doesn't come from the right family. Doesn't have the appropriate pedigree for your friend."
Color rose in Liam's cheeks. "That's not what this is about."
"Isn't it?" Libby stepped closer, her hurt crystallizing into clarity. "Jane's just a physical therapist from Springfield. No trust fund, no family connections, no dynasty to unite. She's not Anne Davenport."
"This has nothing to do with Anne," Liam said sharply.
"Doesn't it? Kate seems to think Anne's return is imminent. That your little rebellion with the inappropriate journalist is just a phase before you return to your appropriate match."
"You don't understand the situation," Liam said, his composure cracking.
"I understand perfectly," Libby shot back. "You can play at dating me because it's controlled, temporary, serves a purpose. But Chase and Jane? That's real, and messy, and might actually mean something. And we can't have that disrupting the precious team dynamics."
"You're being dramatic," Liam said, but his hands had clenched at his sides.
"Dramatic?" Libby's voice went dangerously quiet. "You manipulated my sister's relationship, made her doubt her own judgment, and I'm being dramatic?" Her voice rose with each word. "How dare you. Howdareyou stand there and call me dramatic when you've been playing puppet master with people's lives."
"That's not what I?—"
