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Then Taryn said, "Cillian Rook?"

"Yes."

"The Cillian Rook who works for Switchline?"

"Unfortunately, there aren't two of them."

"Oh, my God."

"That's more or less what I said."

"But how on earth did you not recognize him? You've been talking about that man for weeks."

"I have no idea. The black mask and enormous wings were rather distracting, and he wasn't exactly dressed the way he looks at work."

Taryn made a small sound that might have been a laugh, although she quickly suppressed it.

"Well, I suppose the wings would've changed his silhouette."

"Considerably."

The microwave chimed. I took out my dinner, retrieved a fork, and carried everything into the living room while Taryn tried to absorb the news.

"Wait," she said as I settled onto the sofa. "Did Cillian recognize you?"

There it was.

The question I'd been dreading almost as much as telling her the truth.

"Yes. He knew exactly who I was."

Taryn's response lost every trace of amusement.

"Oh, Everly."

I tucked my feet beneath me and set the bowl on my lap.

"He admitted it this morning. I recognized a scar on his hand, and when I asked him about Saturday, he told me the truth. He knew who I was from the moment he saw me at the Grand."

"Even when you agreed not to exchange names?"

"Even then."

I heard Taryn moving around her apartment, followed by the sound of a chair scraping across the floor.

"That's awful. You told him you didn't want to date anyone connected to work, and he let you believe he was someone else."

"Exactly."

"Have you told him how angry you are?"

"Oh, yes. I was quite thorough."

"Good. Because he had no business making that decision for you."

I appreciated her indignation, although I hadn't expected it to make me feel quite so uncomfortable.

Perhaps because I could still picture Cillian standing in his loft, letting me ask every question I could think of without attempting to escape the consequences. He'd admitted his deception, explained his history, and watched me walk away.