Page 82 of The Prime-Time Experiment

Tyler stood near the bar, exactly where he said he would be—for the entirety of the event, if his joke from the week before was to be believed—one arm resting loosely against the counter as though he claimed the space and had no intention of relinquishing it.

His posture was relaxed in a way that suggested familiarity rather than performance, his suit worn with less meticulousness than most in the room, tie slightly loosened, jacket unbuttoned, like he had already decided comfort ranked higher than presentation. There was an ease to him that cut through the formality, something grounded and quietly self-assured.

Ebony stood beside him.

Smaller in frame, but no less present.

Her dress softened the space around her in contrast to the darker tones of the room. White, but not stark. Light, breathable fabric that moved easily with her, patterned with soft blue flowers that traced across it in uneven, organic clusters. The skirt fell just above her knees, loose enough to move without restriction, the material lifting slightly with each subtle shift of her weight.

The neckline dipped gently, structured without being rigid, and the sleeves mirrored that same balance: slightly puffed at the shoulders before tapering, the fabric sitting away from her arms rather than clinging to them.

It was, Riley noted, similar in concept to her own.

Not identical in structure but aligned in function. Light. Non-restrictive. Existing around the body rather than pressing against it.

Intentional.

Where Tyler was steady, she was in motion not physically, but in attention. Her gaze moved in quick, curious patterns across the room, tracking faces, fragments of conversation, subtle shifts in energy. Observing, categorising, adjusting.

Until it settled on Riley.

“Riley,” Ebony said, her face lighting with a kind of unfiltered certainty that cut cleanly through the layered noise of the room. Riley felt the shift in her chest again one that this time came from familiarity and grounding.

“Hey, Ebony,” she said, her voice steady, though something in her already adjusted in response. Ebony moved toward her without thought, closing the space with the same directness she always had. There was no pause to assess, no uncertainty in her approach. She simply… came closer, like the connection between them required no re-establishment.

“You came,” Ebony said, like it still mattered.

“I did,” Riley replied.

“That’s good,” Ebony said simply, as though that resolved everything that needed resolving. Riley accepted that. There was no need to expand further.

Tyler’s attention shifted next, his gaze moving from Riley to Dee in a quick, assessing glance before settling into something more open, more receptive. There was no tension in it, no guards, just awareness.

“And you must be Dee,” he said, straightening slightly as he offered his hand.

Dee took it easily, her grip firm, her smile unguarded in a way that contrasted Riley’s more measured presence. “That obvious?”

“Riley’s only mentioned you about fifty times,” Tyler replied, a hint of amusement threading through his tone.

Riley blinked, her attention snapping briefly to him. “That is in no way accurate,” she said.

Tyler’s grin widened. “Close enough.”

Dee laughed, the sound bright and immediate, and something in the dynamic shifted with it. The space between them adjusted, becoming lighter, less structured. Conversation picked up around them, flowing between Dee and Tyler with an ease that didn’t require calibration. They moved from one topic to another without friction, their pacing aligned in a way that suggested natural compatibility rather than effort.

Riley watched. Not just the content of what they were saying, but the structure of it all, the rhythm, the timing, the responsiveness. Dee leaned into the interaction, her body language open, her expressions animated in a way Riley recognised as genuine engagement. She wasn’t moderating herself, wasn’t filtering or holding back.

She was… enjoying it.

Tyler responded in kind. His attention remained fixed, present without being overwhelming, his posture angled toward Dee in a way that signalled interest without encroaching. He matched her tone, her humour, the pace of her responses, adapting without losing his own centre.

It worked unexpectedly well. Riley registered that as a positive outcome, a successful integration of variables.

Ebony, meanwhile, shifted her focus again, this time toward Dee, her curiosity immediate and unfiltered in the way Riley recognised as entirely genuine and similar to her own nature.

“Are you Riley’s best friend?” she asked.

Dee’s expression softened instantly, something warmer settling into her features as she crouched slightly to meet Ebony at eye level.