“Addison,” Dylan’s voice says behind me.
I turn, and there he is. He’s wearing a dark suit that fits him a little too perfectly, and his tie is slightly loosened, as if he’s just finished saving the world.
“Hey,” I say, my voice coming out softer than I intend.
“You look…” He pauses, his gaze sweeping over me. “Incredible.”
“Thanks,” I say, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “You clean up pretty well yourself.”
He grins, but there’s something serious in his eyes. “Addy, you made this happen,” he says, low and certain. “Even with the dunk tank drama. Even with Gerald trying to tank the whole thing.”
I giggle at his pun. “I had help,” I say, nudging him. “You did save the pie station.”
“Just following your lead.”
I wave him off, feeling heat creep up my neck. “It’s a team effort.”
“Still,” he says, his voice dropping a little. “Thank you.”
We’re standing near the silent auction table, Dylan’s hand casually brushing mine, when I spot a familiar figure across the crowd. Crisp blazer. Confident stride. Smile like it’s been rehearsed in a mirror.
Simon.
I stiffen, just slightly. Dylan notices instantly.
“Ex incoming?” he murmurs.
“Even worse. A realtor,” I say.
Simon weaves through the crowd with practiced ease, stopping just short of us. His gaze lands on Dylan for half a second before turning to me.
“Addison,” he says smoothly. “Impressive turnout.”
I offer a polite smile. “Glad you think so.”
He shifts, looking almost genuine. “I… wanted to say congratulations. This event... it’s clearly a success. You’ve done a fantastic job.”
I blink. That’s dangerously close to an apology. At least as close as Simon Baxter gets.
“Thanks,” I say, tone even. “It helps when you work with the right people.”
He has the decency to wince. “I might’ve underestimated how determined you are, and the company you keep.”
I feel Dylan stiffen beside me, taking a defensive stance.
“Again,” I reply coolly, “not new information.”
He chuckles awkwardly. “Well. Good luck with the rest of it.”
As he turns to leave, Dylan raises a brow. “That was civil.”
I exhale, tension easing from my shoulders. “He didn’t even bring up the TikTok shenanigans. Personal growth, maybe?”
“Or cowardice,” Dylan mutters.
I laugh. “Maybe both.”
He nudges me. “You okay?”
