My mind raced for an escape, any excuse that might salvage the situation. I forced a laugh that sounded hollow even to my own ears.
"It's nothing, really. I was just venting to my friend about work stress. You know how it is—deadlines, the pressure of being new. Sometimes I just need to complain to someone who won't judge me for it."
Xander's expression didn't soften. If anything, it hardened further, his jaw setting into a rigid line.
He stepped closer, and I instinctively stepped back until my hip hit the edge of the conference table.
"Cut the lies, Daphne." His voice dropped to something dangerous, a low rumble that vibrated through my chest. "You mentioned my name. You said you couldn't tell me something about the girls. I heard you clearly."
My heart pounded so hard I was certain he could hear it. The blood rushed in my ears, drowning out rational thought.
I tried another angle, my words tumbling out too fast, tripping over each other in their desperation to fill the damning silence.
"I meant I couldn't tell you how exhausted I've been—balancing work and single motherhood. I didn't want you to think I couldn't handle the job. I know how important reliability is during my probation period, and the last thing I needed was for you to question my commitment because I was complaining about being tired."
The excuse was flimsy, and we both knew it.
I watched his face, searching for any sign that he might accept it, might let this go. But Xander Hale hadn't built an empire by accepting convenient lies.
"Stop." The single word cut through the air like a blade. "Whatever you're doing right now—stop it. I've built my entire career on reading people, Daphne. On catching the calls they don't know they have."
He stepped closer still, close enough that I could smell his cologne, could see the flecks of gold in his dark eyes.
"I'm not an idiot. Something is going on, and I want to know what it is. Now."
I opened my mouth, genuinely unsure what would come out. His next question hit the nail on the head.
“Are the girls and I… connected?”
The conference room door swung open. Archie appeared in the doorway, tablet in hand, his expression shifting from casual to curious as he took in the scene.
His eyes darted between us—my pale face, Xander's rigid posture, the crackling tension that filled the room like static electricity.
"Am I interrupting something?" He glanced at Xander, then back at me. "Xander, the Thornton Group is on line two. They're threatening to pull out of the deal entirely if you don't speak with them personally."
Xander's frustration was palpable, radiating off him in waves. His hands clenched at his sides, and I watched him wage an internal war between his need for answers and his duty to his company.
Duty won—barely.
He pointed at me, his finger steady despite the storm in his eyes. "This conversation isn't over. Not by a long shot."
Then he strode past Archie and disappeared down the hall, his footsteps echoing against the marble floor like a countdown to my inevitable reckoning.
The moment Xander was gone, the tension drained from the room so quickly I nearly collapsed. My knees wobbled, and I grabbed the edge of the table to steady myself.
Archie turned to me, his playful demeanor replaced by genuine concern.
He stepped closer, his voice softening to something almost tender.
"Hey. Are you okay? Because you look about ten seconds away from either screaming or crying, and I'm honestly not sure which would be worse in this building's acoustics."
I shook my head, unable to find words. My throat had closed up, and I could feel tears threatening to spill over again.
Archie reached out, his hand warm on my arm.
"Come on—let's get you out of here. Fresh air, terrible coffee, whatever you need. There's a café around the corner that makes the worst lattes in the city, but at least it's quiet."
I should say no. I should stay and figure out what to tell Xander. I should prepare my defense, construct a better lie, find some way to protect the secret I'd kept for five years.
But Archie's kindness in this moment, so different from Xander's intensity, felt like a lifeline thrown to a drowning woman.
"I can't," I managed, my voice cracking. "I have to figure out what to say. I have to…"
"You don't have to do anything right now except breathe," Archie said firmly but gently.
His hazel eyes held mine with steady warmth, no judgment, no demands. Then he offered his hand.
"Let me at least walk you to your car. You shouldn't be alone right now, and I promise I won't ask any questions you don't want to answer."
I stared at his outstretched palm for a long moment. Then I took it.
I grabbed my things with trembling hands, my purse, my phone still displaying Charlotte's missed calls, and let Archie guide me toward the elevator.
His presence was steady and reassuring, a calm port in the storm that had become my life. He didn't push, didn't pry, just walked beside me with his hand light on my back.
At my car, he opened the door for me, then paused, studying my face with those warm eyes that seemed to see everything and judge nothing.
"Whatever's going on between you and Xander—you don't have to handle it alone. I know we barely know each other, but I'm a pretty good listener. Better than average, actually.”
“Is it one of your few genuine talents?”
Archie nodded. “Along with making mediocre small talk and remembering everyone's coffee orders."
I managed a small smile, the first genuine one in what felt like hours. "Thank you, Archie. I mean it. You didn't have to do any of this."
"I know I didn't have to. I wanted to." He squeezed my hand once before stepping back, giving me space. "Drive safe. And text me if you need anything—even if it's just someone to complain about terrible coffee with."
I drove home in a daze, my mind spinning through possibilities and disasters.
It was Friday. I had two days to figure out what to do, two days before I had to face Xander again. Two days to prepare for a conversation I wasn't sure I'd ever be ready to have.
But somewhere beneath the fear, a new thought took root: maybe Archie was right. Maybe I didn't have to handle everything alone.