Chapter 33 - The Unspoker Shift

The morning air buzzed with quiet anticipation. The company was hosting its annual charity auction — a semi-formal affair with too much planning and far too little time. The hotel ballroom had been booked, the guest list finalized, and still, Lily felt the nerves dance beneath her skin.

She stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the soft pastel blue dress Clara, a friendly office colleague had convinced her to wear. It wasn’t her usual style — high neckline, open back, cinched waist — but it made her feel oddly… elegant.

“It brings out your eyes,” Clara had said with a teasing wink.

A knock at her apartment door broke her thoughts.

It opened a second later without waiting — Ross.

He was new. Hired just a week ago as the interim PR head, temporarily replacing Samantha after her dramatic exit. Clara had handpicked him, claiming they needed someone with charisma and crowd-control experience. Ross certainly had both — easy on the eyes, with sharp features, a confident gait, and an annoying ability to make everyone laugh.

“Ready?” he asked, holding a pair of clipboards and the company car keys.

Lily turned, heels clicking softly on the floor. “You’re here early.”

“I like to be five minutes ahead of panic.”

She smiled. “Then today’s perfect for you.”

He held the door open as she walked out. “You look beautiful, by the way.”

She hesitated for a second, then gave a polite nod. “Thanks. Let's go."

The event was being held at the Silverpine Hotel — a lavish venue in the city, all polished marble and crystal chandeliers. Staff bustled about setting tables, adjusting floral arrangements, checking sound systems. Lily instantly moved into work mode, giving directions, ticking boxes off her list, answering back-to-back phone calls.

Ross stayed beside her like a shadow — helpful, upbeat, occasionally joking just to cut through the tension.

At one point, a tray nearly toppled over near the donation table, and Ross was the first to catch it. Lily turned and gave him a small nod of appreciation.

“You know,” he said, “for someone who looks like a painting, you’re surprisingly efficient.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, smiling in spite of herself. “Flattery won’t get you out of sorting those name tags.”

“Damn.”

It was well past noon when William arrived.

He hadn’t confirmed his presence to anyone — not Clara, not Lily. But the moment he stepped through the tall glass doors, the air shifted.

He wore a charcoal-gray suit, sharply cut and crisp. His presence, quiet but commanding, drew glances from across the room. He didn’t look around much. Not at first.

But then his eyes found Lily.

She was standing near the registration desk, clipboard in hand, leaning slightly toward Ross as she pointed something out. Ross laughed softly, close to her ear. His hand brushed her elbow as he reached across to adjust a card.

William’s jaw tightened, so subtly no one else would notice. His eyes stayed there, unmoving. Focused.

He walked to the side, picked up a glass of water from a passing tray, but didn’t drink it. Instead, he set it back down — untouched — and turned toward the inner gallery room.

An hour later, the moment happened.

Lily, mid-conversation with Ross and a guest, turned quickly and caught the edge of a decorative rug with her heel. She stumbled forward.

Ross reacted instantly, steadying her by the waist.

Her palms landed lightly against his chest. Their eyes met for a split second. She let out an embarrassed laugh.

“Okay, these heels officially hate me.”

Ross grinned. “Or maybe they’re just trying to get you closer.”

She shook her head and stepped back, fixing her posture. “Don’t get used to it.”

From across the room, William watched.

His expression didn’t change — not outwardly. But his shoulders stiffened. His hand, resting against the back of a chair, gripped the edge a little too tightly. When a staff member came up to ask him something, he responded in a clipped tone, then walked away without waiting for a reply.

Later, in the art gallery area, Lily and Ross stood in front of a massive oil painting donated by a mysterious collector. Ross leaned closer, admiring the texture.

“I don’t get modern art,” he muttered.

Lily laughed. “It’s not supposed to be understood. It’s supposed to be felt.”

“I’d rather feel coffee.”

Behind them, William’s voice came in, quiet and sharp. “Or maybe you just need better taste.”

Ross turned around. “Sir! You finally showed up.”

“Traffic,” William replied, tone flat.

Lily offered a smile. “Didn’t think you’d come.”

William’s gaze flicked to her for a second — unreadable. “It’s a company event.”

He stepped forward, his attention focused on the painting. “Not bad,” he murmured. “Almost seems… unstable. Like it’s pretending to be composed.”

Lily tilted her head, curious at his sudden engagement. Ross just raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment.

The silence between the three of them stretched. Thick. Tense.

Lily didn’t notice.

But William did. And so did Ross.

The evening wound down slowly. The auction ended, donations were counted, guests began filtering out.

Clara had disappeared hours ago into the staff room with a bottle of sparkling cider and her phone.

Lily, finally taking a break, leaned against a side wall, arms aching, heels digging into her ankles. She closed her eyes for a moment.

“You heading home?” Ross asked, walking up beside her with two water bottles.

“Soon. Just… mentally checking out first.”

Ross offered her one. “Want a ride?”

Before she could answer, another voice came — cooler, firmer.

“I’ll walk her.”

William.

Ross turned his head slightly. Lily blinked. “Oh—um… sure.”

Ross offered a small shrug. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

She gave him a tired smile. “Thanks for helping today.”

Ross nodded and walked away, his steps relaxed.

William and Lily walked side by side toward the parking lot. The night air was quiet, cool. The streetlamps cast soft pools of light across the concrete.

Neither of them spoke at first.

She rubbed her arms slightly. “It went well, don’t you think?”

He nodded once. “Smooth. Clean. Professional.”

She nodded too. “I’m glad it’s over.”

“You almost fell,” he said suddenly.

She laughed. “Yeah. Ross has surprisingly quick reflexes.”

There was a pause.

William looked straight ahead. “So I saw.”

She didn’t catch the change in his voice — the steel under the calm.

“I need better shoes next time,” she added lightly.

He didn’t respond.

They reached her car. She turned to him, unlocking it. “Thanks for walking with me.”

He gave a faint nod. “Get home safe.”

As she slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine, William stepped back, his hands in his pockets.

She drove away without a second glance.

He stood there, still, unmoving, as the taillights disappeared into the dark.