“Unless it relates to my professional standing, I don’t think we have anything to discuss,” she replied, proud of how steady her voice sounded.
“The Sea Guardian Foundation is holding their annual gala tomorrow evening,” he said. “Sullivan Enterprises is a major sponsor. Given your interest in their work, I thought you might want to attend.”
The formal invitation, delivered in his CEO voice, felt like a mockery of the intimate connection they’d shared. Yet something in his tone—a vulnerability at odds with his professional demeanor—gave her pause. She studied the way his hands held the invitation envelope, the same hands she knew so intimately, while carefully keeping her eyes from drifting to his face.
“I’ll consider it,” she said finally.
Archer nodded, accepting her non-commitment with grace. “The event details are included in your settlement package. Your presence would be... welcomed.”
Before she could respond, he was called away by Victoria Barrett, leaving Morgan standing alone in the emptying conference room.
Alexandra approached, gathering her materials. “That was... unexpected,” she said, her typical understatement somehow comforting in its familiarity.
“Which part?” Morgan asked with a wry smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “The corporate conspiracy or the gala invitation?”
“Both,” Alexandra replied thoughtfully. “Though perhaps neither should have surprised me, knowing Archer.”
Morgan shot her a questioning look.
“He’s always been thorough,” Alexandra explained. “Both in business and, I suspect, in matters of the heart.”
Before Morgan could process that statement, Jennifer Mills appeared at her elbow.
“Ms. Reeves,” the executive assistant said, “before you leave, Mr. Sullivan asked me to give you this.”
She handed Morgan a small velvet box tied with a simple ribbon.
“What is it?” Morgan asked, eyeing the box suspiciously.
“I wasn’t informed of the contents,” Jennifer replied with professional discretion. “Only instructed to ensure you received it personally.”
Morgan slipped the box into her purse without opening it, unwilling to reveal any reaction in this glass-walled corporate arena. “Thank you.”
Outside Sullivan Tower, standing on the sidewalk with settlement documents in a folder and a mysterious box in her purse, Morgan finally let out the breath she felt she’d been holding all morning. The meeting had gone better than she could have imagined professionally—her name cleared, her financial future secured, the true villain exposed.
Yet emotionally, she felt more confused than ever.
It wasn’t until she was safely back at Tessa’s apartment, alone in the guest room, that Morgan finally took out the velvet box. Her fingers trembled slightly as she untied the ribbon and opened the lid.
Inside, nestled against black velvet, lay a necklace and matching earrings of such exquisite craftsmanship that her breath caught. The pieces featured delicate silver work surrounding small pieces of sea glass in varying shades of blue and green—colors that reminded her instantly of the coastal views from their motorcycle ride. A small card lay beneath them, the now-familiar handwriting sending an unwelcome pang through her chest:
For the Sea Guardian Foundation gala. No expectations. No helmet. Just the truth, if you’ll hear it.
Morgan closed her eyes, memories washing over her unbidden—the feel of his hands, the sound of his voice in darkness, the way her body had responded to his touch as if created specifically for him.
The most confusing part of all this wasn’t that Archer had lied to her. It was that despite everything, despite the deception and the helmet and the corporate machinations, the connection between them had felt undeniably real.
And that—more than the conspiracy or the vindication or the settlement—was what terrified her most.
Because if what they’d shared had been genuine despite the lies, what did that say about her heart’s judgment? About the possibility that something that began in deception could still hold truth at its core?
Morgan stared at the sea glass jewelry, her fingers tracing the delicate silverwork. Tomorrow evening. The Sea Guardian Foundation gala. The place where, if she chose to attend, she would face Archer Sullivan not as the mysterious Bullet or the corporate CEO, but perhaps, finally, as the man himself.
No helmet. No mask. No barriers.
Just truth—whatever that might be.
26
