She'd been bracing for something else. An explanation. A justification. Maybe even a smooth billionaire speech about how the proposal wasstrategicand she should trust the process.
"I—" April's brain tried to catch up. "I don't know."
Killian nodded. "That's fair." He looked like he was trying to figure out what to say next.
"The proposal," he said finally, "was issued prematurely."
April blinked. "Did you just… corporate-memo your apology?"
"Yes. Is it working?"
"I don't know." April laughed, sharp-edged, a little cracked.
Killian's expression softened, "I should have asked first.”
His hand lifted, stopped, hovered close enough that she could feel the heat of it at her wrist. Then it dropped back to his side.
“I didn't. I'm sorry." Then he stood there like that was it.
She waited for the reflex to soften. It didn’t come.
“Okay,” April said.
Not yes. Not forgiveness. Just… next.
"Okay?"
"Okay. We're leaving now. And I'm going to pretend the last ten minutes didn't happen until I've had food and possibly a drink. Or five."
Killian nodded. "Deal."
He stepped back first. They left the closet.
April had the fleeting thought that her life had become a series of exits. At some point, she was going to have to stop leaving places and actually stay somewhere.
But not tonight.
???
The limo was sleek and black, the kind that either belonged to someone very important or someone pretending very hard.
Liam appeared at her elbow. “Killian keeps one on retainer.”
Of course he did.
“Mr. Sterling,” someone called, panicked-polished. “Your speech, the Silvers’ donor table wants you, press is waiting—”
Liam didn’t break stride.
April glanced at him. “Can you… leave your own gala this early?”
“They won’t miss us,” Liam said.
They literally had. Out loud. April gave him a once over then shrugged and climbed into the car anyway.
She was already typing before the door shut.
April:We're coming to get you. I need you.
