"Yeah," I said. "I'm on time."
He nodded once. "Maria's in the back office. We need to confirm final headcount, finalize the bar order, and lock down the volunteer schedule for setup."
"Right."
Silence stretched between us. The kind that used to be comfortable and now wasn't.
"Let me go get Maria," Ethan said, already turning away. "You can look around. Both teams are meeting here at six for the official announcement, so we need to have everything done this afternoon."
He disappeared through a door marked "Office" before I could respond.
I walked the perimeter of the room alone, taking in the details. Tables stacked and ready. Sound system installed—speakers mounted in the corners, a mixing board near the stage. The bar was stocked with glasses hanging in neat rows from an overhead rack. A chalkboard behind the bar listed cocktail specials in someone's careful handwriting.
We'd done good work. Even if most of it had been through emails and shared docs, never in the same room. Even if every text had been stripped of anything personal—just logistics, just facts, just the minimum words required to make the event happen.
"Alex Harrington?"
A woman emerged from the office, Ethan trailing behind her. Maybe forty, dark hair pulled back in a bun, Riverside Club t-shirt and jeans. Maria Chen—we'd spoken on the phone twice but never met in person.
"That's me."
"Good to finally meet you face-to-face." She shook my hand firmly. "Ethan's been keeping me updated. Sounds like you two have this pretty buttoned up."
"We're trying," I said.
We went through the final details—headcount locked at one-twenty, Kingswell's RSVP list confirmed that morning, Riverside capped at sixty. Bar order placed, two bartenders confirmed. DJ secured through Kingswell alumni at cost. Ten volunteers from each team for setup at four, breakdown at midnight. Sponsor signage arriving Friday. Cocktail-style table arrangements. Coat check in the north corner. Photo backdrop built by Riverside's art department, being delivered Saturday morning.
Maria was methodical, checking off items. Ethan answered most of her questions—he'd been point on the final logistics while I handled the team coordination and sponsor outreach.
We'd made a good team. Even from a distance. Even through the careful formality that replaced what we used to have.
"I think we're set," Maria said finally. "You two did solid work. This is going to be a good event."
"Thanks," Ethan said.
"I'll see you both at six for the team meeting. Then next Saturday for setup. Four sharp."
She disappeared into the office, leaving Ethan and me alone again.
The afternoon light had shifted—lower now, warmer, coming through the tall windows at an angle that lit the dust motes floating in the air between us.
Ethan flipped through his notes. "I'll send final instructions to the volunteer teams before the meeting tonight. You good to do a final walkthrough with Eldridge tomorrow?"
"Yeah. I'll handle it."
"Good."
He made another note, still not quite looking at me.
I should have gone, we'd done what we needed to do. The professional boundary was clear. But I found myself saying, "How's the film festival submission going?"
Ethan's pen stopped moving. He looked up, something careful in his expression—like he was deciding whether this question was safe to answer.
"Getting there. One week left to finish editing."
"That's soon."
"Yeah."
