The next time Emery saw Beckett was three days later - in the middle of a boardroom.
He wasn't supposed to be there.
She was reviewing event proposals for the upcoming Holdings-Holt brand merger launch. The room was filled with floral designs, food tastings, media packets… and suddenly, him.
Leaning against the far wall, black shirt, sleeves rolled, expression unreadable.
Grayson noticed her glance. "Did I forget to mention? Beckett's stepping in to help manage launch security. With all the press attention, it made sense."
Of course it did.
Because fate had a twisted sense of humor.
Beckett nodded politely when introduced to the team, but when his eyes flicked to hers - just for a second - it wasn't polite.
It was dangerous.
Later That Afternoon
She found him alone in the service hallway, adjusting his earpiece.
"You knew I'd be in that room," she said.
He didn't turn around. "Your fiancé invited me."
"Is that what you're going to keep calling him?"
Now he looked over his shoulder. "You'd rather I call him what I think?"
Her stomach twisted.
"I don't know what you're trying to do," she said.
He faced her now, fully. Close. Too close.
"I'm trying not to do anything," he said. "You make that difficult."
She swallowed. "You're his best friend."
"And you're his fiancée."
Their eyes locked.
A beat passed.
And then another.
"I should go," she whispered.
"You should."
She didn't move.
Neither did he.
And when she finally did walk away, she didn't realize she was holding her breath until it came out in a shaky exhale - one she'd remember for the rest of the day.
That Night
Grayson canceled dinner.
"Something came up," he texted. "Reschedule?"
Emery stared at her screen for a full minute before setting it down.
She didn't bother replying.
Instead, she stepped out onto the rooftop terrace of her building, phone forgotten, wine glass in hand.
And five minutes later, a deep voice cut through the quiet.
"Didn't expect to see you again today."
She turned.
Beckett leaned against the balcony rail, arms crossed, the city behind him like a canvas of lights.
Her mouth went dry.
"What are you doing here?" she asked.
He didn't answer right away.
"Grayson sent me. Said the elevators have been glitching and to check the security feeds."
She raised a brow. "And that led you to my balcony?"
He shrugged. "I follow trouble."
She laughed once - soft, bitter. "Then you must be good at finding me."
He stepped closer.
"You ever think about what your life would look like if none of this existed?" Beckett asked, his voice low, serious.
Emery nodded. "All the time."
Silence stretched between them, thick with everything they weren't supposed to say.
Then Beckett spoke again, voice even softer this time.
"But I wouldn't change meeting you," he said.
Emery's breath caught. She didn't respond.
She couldn't.
Because in that moment, the line between right and wrong didn't just blur…
It vanished.