"It can wait," I say, relief and guilt washing through me in equal measure.
His phone rings again."It's Connor."He answers, putting it on speaker."You've heard?"
"Heard?I'm living it!"Connor's voice comes through frantic."The venue decorators just called.Someone 'upgraded' our event theme to include tartan accents and signature cocktails called 'Kilt Teasers' and 'Highland Flings.'There are actual bagpipes, Callum.BAGPIPES."
Callum closes his eyes, visibly calculating how many people he can reasonably fire in one evening."Who authorized this?"
"The events company claims they were 'leveraging viral momentum' to enhance guest experience.Ariana is homicidal."
"We'll handle it," I jump in."Tell the venue manager to remove anything with tartan or kilt references.I'll call in a favor at Highland Spirits—they can provide replacement specialty cocktails with proper Scottish names, no innuendo."
"You're a lifesaver," Connor breathes."But there's more.The gift bags...they contain kilted teddy bears."
Callum and I trade alarmed looks.
"How many?"Callum asks, his voice lowering by ten decibels.
"Two hundred."
"Burn them," Callum and I say in unison.
"Already on it," Connor confirms."See you both in an hour?And Callum?Wear your game face.Half of tech journalism RSVP'd after Duncan's statement dropped."
The call ends, leaving us in momentary silence.
"We need to go.Now."Callum peers down at his watch.“I’ll call my PR team to craft a response to Duncan's statement while we drive."
"I'll handle the venue crisis management," I add, already texting my Highland Spirits contact."We can strategize on the way."
As I grab my purse and wrap, Callum pauses at my door."Karina, what you were saying earlier?—"
"Later," I promise, not meeting his eyes."After we survive tonight."
He studies me for a long moment, then nods."After."
We rush down to his waiting car, my confession still hanging unspoken between us.
As the driver pulls away from my apartment, I can't help wondering if I've just missed my only chance to tell the truth on my own terms.
Callum's already on the phone, his CEO voice firmly in place, handling the MacTavish crisis with impressive efficiency.
I focus on my own calls, coordinating last-minute venue adjustments and drink replacements.
This isn't how I planned to spend the hours before Connor's engagement party—racing to prevent a corporate takeover while sitting beside the man whose heart I'm about to break.
But then again, when have my plans ever worked out the way I expected?
I steal a glance at Callum's profile, strong and determined as he strategizes our counter-offensive.
The irony isn't lost on me…
I’m about to attend a celebration of love and commitment while hiding the very thing that could destroy whatever is growing between us.
"Ready for this?"Callum asks as we pull up to the venue, his hand finding mine in a brief, reassuring squeeze.
The smile I give feels frozen on my face.“As I'll ever be.”
The truth will have to wait.
