Chapter 8 #2
When Gabby left, Avery turned toward the window, the city bright under the morning sun.
She hated that the conversation wasn’t as simple as she wanted it to be.
She hated that Quinn’s words still echoed in her head, that offer lingering somewhere between insult and possibility.
Most of all, she hated that a small, traitorous part of her wanted to see it in writing before she dismissed it outright.
* * *
By two o’clock, Avery had reviewed her notes three times. Not because she needed to, she had memorized every data point by noon, but because the silence between her and Quinn all week had done something to her focus.
Now, sitting across the conference table with Gabby beside her, she tried not to look too long at the woman on the other end.
Quinn’s navy suit jacket was draped neatly over the chair, sleeves rolled to her elbows, her watch catching the light each time she turned a page in her notebook.
She looked composed. Controlled. Deliberate. Avery hated how easy it was to notice.
It was their final debrief before Quinn left for L.A.
“Alright,” Gabby said, closing her tablet lightly before folding her hands on the table. “Let’s go over the week. We’ve reviewed feedback from each department. Everyone appreciated the collaboration. The dev team said your suggestions were useful, especially around traffic management.”
Quinn nodded once, her pen resting between her fingers. “They’re strong,” she said evenly. “You’ve built something solid. My team could support heavier traffic and streamline parts of the system we’ve already scaled elsewhere. It’s not about replacing what you’ve built. It’s about reinforcing it.”
Avery kept her arms crossed, her expression neutral. “And in return, Lilith gives up ownership,” she said calmly.
“Not gives up,” Quinn replied, holding her gaze. “Expands. With support that already exists instead of stretching yourselves thinner.”
“Support you oversee,” Avery said, her tone steady but edged.
Gabby glanced between them and cleared her throat. “We’re not deciding anything today,” she said evenly. “This is about understanding next steps.”
“Exactly,” Quinn agreed, shifting slightly in her chair. “I’ll go back to L.A. and put together a formal proposal. Clear numbers. Clear structure. You’ll see exactly what Halo is offering and how leadership would be distributed.”
Avery tilted her head, studying her. “And then we decide whether or not to sell,” she said.
“Yes,” Quinn answered without hesitation. “If you decide no, it stops there. No pressure.”
Avery’s eyes didn’t waver. “I’m willing to review it,” she said after a beat. “But that’s it. I’ll read what you send. You should know I don’t see myself saying yes.”
Something flickered in Quinn’s expression. It wasn’t softness, but it wasn’t sharp either. “That’s fair,” Quinn said quietly. “And I respect that.”
“Good,” Avery replied.
Gabby closed her tablet and stood. “Sounds like we have a plan,” she said. “I’ll be the point of contact once the proposal is ready. We’ll schedule a follow-up once it’s in.”
“You’ll have it within two weeks,” Quinn said as she rose from her seat, sliding her jacket over her shoulders.
“Perfect,” Gabby said, offering her hand. “Safe flight. Thank you for spending the week with us. It’s been… smoother than expected.”
“That was the goal,” Quinn replied with a faint smile.
Avery stood as well, keeping her posture relaxed. “Have a safe flight,” she said, her voice measured.
“Thank you,” Quinn said.
Gabby shook Quinn’s hand, then glanced toward her phone. “I’ll walk you out,” she began.
Quinn’s eyes shifted toward Avery. “Actually,” she said, her tone casual but her gaze steady, “if it’s alright, I’d like to walk out with Avery. I want to thank her personally.”
Gabby hesitated for a fraction of a second, then nodded. “Sure,” she said lightly. “I’ll take this call.”
She stepped out, pulling the glass door closed behind her.
The room went quiet.
Quinn adjusted the cuff of her sleeve, a small movement that drew Avery’s eyes before she could stop herself.
“So,” Avery said, keeping her voice level, “that’s it.”
“For now,” Quinn replied, stepping around the table. She didn’t crowd her, but she didn’t leave much space either. “You’ll have my team’s proposal soon.”
“Can’t wait,” Avery said dryly.
Quinn’s mouth curved faintly. “You sound unconvinced.”
“I’m not,” Avery said, lifting her chin slightly.
“I figured,” Quinn replied. She stepped a little closer, close enough that Avery caught the faint trace of her perfume. “Still, I’m glad we had this week.”
“Are you?” Avery asked. “Because I’m not sure what we actually learned.”
“I learned that you’re harder to read than you let on,” Quinn said, her voice smooth. “And that you run this company with remarkable focus.”
“That supposed to be a compliment?” Avery asked.
“It is,” Quinn said quietly.
Avery held her gaze, letting the silence stretch just enough to feel intentional. “I’m glad your observation was productive,” she said finally.
“It was,” Quinn replied, her eyes dropping briefly to Avery’s mouth before returning to her eyes. “In more ways than one.”
Avery felt her pulse jump but didn’t move.
Quinn slipped a small card from the inside pocket of her jacket and held it out. “My number,” she said. “You probably have it already. I’d rather give it to you directly.”
Avery took the card. Their fingers brushed, just briefly, but neither of them pulled away too quickly.
“I leave for the airport at six,” Quinn added, her voice quieter now.
“Noted,” Avery said, looking at the card before meeting her eyes again. “Have a good flight.”
“Thank you,” Quinn replied. “Take care, Avery.”
“You too,” Avery said.
They walked to the elevator together, heels echoing softly against the polished floor. The space between them felt charged without being obvious. When the doors opened, Quinn stepped inside and pressed the button for the lobby.
She looked at Avery, calm but not distant. “Goodbye,” she said.
“Goodbye, Quinn,” Avery replied.
The doors slid shut with a muted thud.
Avery stayed where she was, watching her reflection blur in the metal as the elevator descended.
She remained there until the numbers stopped moving, her grip tightening slightly around the small card in her hand.
When she finally exhaled, it was slow and controlled, and she couldn’t tell if the quiet that followed felt like relief or the beginning of something she wasn’t ready to name.
* * *