Episode 6: Still No
1324 Words
Lila's POV
I noticed him before I meant to.
It wasn’t even intentional. I had just walked in with Noah, still adjusting to the noise and the crowd, when my eyes landed on him across the room.
He was already looking in our direction.
“You okay?” Noah asked beside me.
“I’m fine.”
He glanced at me briefly, like he didn’t fully believe that, but didn’t press. “I’ll get us something to drink. Stay here?”
“Yeah, I’m not going anywhere.”
He nodded and walked off, leaving me to deal with the room, and the fact that I suddenly knew exactly where one person in it was.
I tried to focus on something else. The music, the people, anything that didn’t involve him.
It lasted about five seconds.
“Do you always look this uncomfortable, or is it just tonight?”
I turned this time.
Adrian stood a few steps away, hands in his pockets, looking like he fit into the room far more easily than he claimed to.
“I’m not uncomfortable,” I said. “I just don’t see the appeal.”
“That’s because you’re looking at it like a guest.”
“And how should I be looking at it?”
“Like it matters.”
I frowned slightly. “Does it?”
“For some people, yes.”
“That sounds like a polite way of saying it doesn’t matter to you.”
“It doesn’t,” he said, without hesitation.
“Then why are you here?”
“Work.”
I studied him for a second. “At an anniversary party?”
“The host owns a company I’ve been trying to close a deal with,” he said. “He hasn’t responded to any of my proposals.”
“So you decided to show up in person.”
“I decided to use the opportunity,” he corrected.
“That sounds a little calculated.”
“It is.”
I let out a small breath. “At least you’re honest about it.”
“It saves time.”
“That seems to be your thing.”
“It usually works.”
I tilted my head slightly. “Does it?”
“Most of the time.”
“And the rest of the time?”
“I adjust.”
Something about the way he said it made me pause, just briefly.
Then I shook it off. “Still doesn’t explain why you thought walking up to me was part of that strategy.”
“It isn’t.”
“Then why are you here?”
He looked at me properly now, like he was deciding how much to say.
“Because we’re both part of the same situation,” he said. “Ignoring it completely doesn’t make sense.”
I crossed my arms slightly. “It made sense the last time.”
“I wasn’t interested in a conversation then.”
“And now you are?”
“Now it’s relevant.”
I stared at him. “That’s not better.”
“It’s accurate.”
“That’s debatable.”
A small pause settled between us, not awkward, but not easy either.
“You’re still bothered by that,” he said.
“You don’t get to decide that,” I replied. “You were rude.”
“I chose not to engage.”
“That’s the same thing.”
“It isn’t.”
“It is,” I insisted. “You dismissed me without even trying to be polite about it.”
“You kept asking questions.”
“I was having a conversation.”
“I wasn’t.”
I let out a short breath. “You really don’t hear yourself, do you?”
“I hear myself just fine.”
“Then you’re aware that you come off as arrogant.”
“I’m aware people say that.”
“And you’re okay with it?”
“It doesn’t affect what I’m here to do.”
“That doesn’t mean it doesn’t affect people.”
“I’m not responsible for how people interpret me.”
“That’s convenient.”
“It’s practical.”
I shook my head slightly. “You sound like you’ve said that before.”
“I have.”
“That’s not surprising.”
Another brief pause.
I glanced around the room again, then back at him. “So this is how you spend your evenings? Working through social events you clearly don’t enjoy?”
“When necessary.”
“That sounds exhausting.”
“It’s efficient.”
“You really don’t like anything, do you?”
“That’s not true.”
“Okay,” I said. “Name one thing in this room you actually like.”
He didn’t answer immediately.
Instead, he followed my earlier glance around the space, taking in the room in a way that felt more observant than dismissive.
“The host built his company from nothing,” he said after a moment. “He’s kept it stable for decades. That’s not common.”
I blinked, not expecting that answer.
“That’s what you notice?” I asked.
“That’s what matters.”
I studied him for a second. “You’re very consistent.”
“I try to be.”
“That doesn’t make you easier to deal with.”
“I’m not trying to be.”
“I can tell.”
That almost got a reaction again—small, but there.
Then I remembered why we were even having this conversation.
“So,” I said, folding my arms again, “have you figured out how you’re getting out of this?”
His expression didn’t change. “No.”
“That’s reassuring.”
“It’s realistic.”
“You don’t seem like someone who lets things like this just happen.”
“I don’t.”
“Then do something about it.”
“I already did.”
“And it didn’t work,” I said. “So try again.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“It should be.”
“It isn’t.”
“That’s a weak answer.”
“It’s the accurate one.”
I held his gaze. “I’m not agreeing to it.”
“I didn’t ask you to.”
“Good.”
“Because I’m not agreeing either.”
That came easily.
No hesitation, no second-guessing.
For a second, that shifted something.
Not enough to matter. Just enough to notice.
“Then what are you doing?” I asked.
“Trying to understand the situation before I decide how far to push it.”
“That sounds like you’re considering it.”
“That sounds like I’m not making a rushed decision.”
I frowned. “Those are not the same thing.”
“They overlap.”
“That’s not comforting.”
“It’s not meant to be.”
A short silence followed.
Then I said, “You know, for someone who avoids people, you’re doing a lot of talking.”
“And for someone who doesn’t like me, you’re still here.”
I didn’t look away. “I didn’t realize I needed your permission to leave.”
“You don’t.”
“Good.”
“Then why haven’t you?”
I didn’t answer that.
Before the moment stretched any further, Noah came back, handing me a drink.
“Sorry,” he said. “That took longer than I thought.”
“It’s fine.”
He glanced at Adrian briefly, then back at me. “Everything okay?”
“It’s fine,” I said.
Adrian didn’t add anything.
Noah nodded like that was enough. “Good. I was starting to think I left you at a bad time.”
“You didn’t.”
He smiled lightly. “Alright. Then I’ll pretend I believe you.”
I almost smiled at that.
Almost.
But even as Noah started talking about something else, I could still feel it.
That conversation hadn’t settled anything.
- Writer
