In the Off Hours

by K'onix

Hilary knows what she wants: 1. Notable career 2. Beautiful home 3. Gorgeous, loving boyfriend. Basically, she wants it all. What she has is a job, an apartment, and a gorgeous...man she meets in the elevators occasionally. They don't speak – ever – but that hasn't stopped her from telling her cousin they are dating. - Kai/Hil Fake Dating AU

35. I don't know what it means

I don't know what it means (but I know what the truth is)

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"Olivier?" I ask. "You mean because of Mathilda's dress?"

Kai's sharp eyes zero in. "You knew?"

"Obviously. Who else would be able to pull that off?" I don't tell him it had bothered me for a few days after the party. I twisted myself into a pretzel, trying to find a way to make Olivier innocent. I had spies breaking into his office and stealing his fabrics, and Olivier accidentally forgetting his portfolio at lunch and someone finding it.

But no. The most logical conclusion is that Olivier made the dress at Soichiro's request because Soichiro knows who Kai is using. This was nothing more than a power play, and I am over getting wound up.

Kai's brow arches masterfully, remaining so coolly reserved.

"I meant about the picture," Romero says. "It's one thing to take another job – even a competitor – but another to provide a picture that makes you look bad."

"Leave Olivier alone," Kai interrupts as I'm about to speak. Romero and I turn to him in surprise, the severe decisiveness in his tone catching us off guard. "I'll take care of him."

He looks out the window, avoiding our twin gazes of confusion. We turn to each other and, as if it mentally-shrug in unison, let it go. At least, he seems to let it go. Not soon after, Romero excuses himself to continue his conversation with the attendant. I see her had him a cup with steam rising above. I doubt he's requested herbal tea.

I, on the other hand, stew. I'm not sure what I should feel about Olivier's actions. He's not a friend of mine exactly, though I have grown fond of him. He's a lover of the arts, of the extreme, a flirt, and a visionary. He indulgences his whims in a way I could never see being reasonable.

Not a friend, but trusted. Should I feel betrayed that he would take Soichiro on as a client, dressing Mathilda in a dress matching mine? Olivier isn't dumb – he knows the kind of drama that would cause. In fact, he was probably excited to see it unfold, knowing he had a hand. I can imagine him and Giancarlo gossiping over cocktails.

I look across to Kai, still watching the sky out the window. When did he figure out it was Olivier? Probably sooner than me. Romero, too. They probably didn't even waste time trying to convince themselves it was an accident, quickly accepting that Olivier had done this thing, and then moved on. No drama, no fuss.

Is this what it takes to be in their world? Accept a trusted colleague's betrayal with ease. I feel nowhere near ready to be here. I had grown up believing, perhaps naively, that when I reached this level, I would be surrounded by professionals that respected each other. Not trust-fund brats backstabbing each other like it's an average Tuesday Game Night. Experts who cared to stay in their lanes and do what's best for their companies and the public.

Of course, a lot of that idealism had been swiftly destroyed as I went through school and graduated, but I still held on to the belief that I could be different. I could make a difference.

I will get eaten alive if I keep thinking that way.

I attempt to close my eyes to rest, but they pop back open when I realize Kai has turned his attention back to me in the middle of my musings as if he's watching my thoughts pass visibly on my forehead.

"Hey," I say. Or question. What's Kai looking at? I glance down to make sure everything is adjusted as it should be. It is.

I don't expect Kai to take up the gentleman act when we're alone, but a little cooperation would be nice. He's resistant, refusing to reply, always keeping his cards close to his chest.

"You gonna tell me where we're going now?"

"We're almost there," he says after a long pause.

"It speaks!"

So far, in my personal experience, mocking seems to be an effective motivational technique. It's like he can't not respond when someone is challenging him. He doesn't want to, though. He wants to be big enough to let it go, but he can't seem to. I wonder why that is, but mostly I find it funny. Like before, I see the light blaze to life behind his eyes.

He taps it down. "When did you figure Olivier out?"

I twisted my lips to the side, thinking of the process I went through. "I realized it pretty quickly. The night of the party," I say slowly, answering with the truth that won't embarrass me.

"I'm surprised you didn't say anything. This is usually the thing you'd run to me about."

"You didn't say anything."

"Because I'm handling it. I didn't think it'd be relevant to you."

"How could it not be relevant when I see him more often."

He nods, considering this.

I'm no longer surprised by his inability to communicate basic information. Still, something feels off. Why would he care what I know if he already knows?

"That's not why you asked, is it?"

Kai hides a smile. "We're landing soon. You should buckle in."

"You're not going to tell me? How does it feel, sitting on a mountain of secrets?"

"Lofty. Windy."

"Alone? Cold?"

We laugh lightly, though I'm not entirely sure why. It's another thing I realize I've come to accept: Kai's way of keeping secrets. If I can't drag them out of him, at least I can make fun of him for it. He doesn't seem to mind this too much, either. Perhaps enduring a little mocking is preferable to revealing his thoughts.

Romero returns to this seat, cup in hand. How many has he had while we weren't watching?

"You can keep your judging eyes to yourself, Hilary. I don't need another pair." Romero says, not looking at me while taking a sip.

"I'm sure Julia and Raul are enough," I agree. "But I'll still let them know when we land."

He blows the steam off, careless to this threat as long as they can't physically reach him. Julia is a force that's hard to deny, but I've come to see that Raul has his own tactics. Multiple times I've seen Romero practically melt to Raul's whims when he gives him a distinct look – a cross between concerned and resigned, accompanied with a heavy sigh.

Romero just can't resist that boy.

The plane descends smoothly, with barely a jolt as the wheels touch earth and we glide to a stop. The captain emerges from the cockpit as we stand to grab our things. There isn't much for me to gather except for my small purse and cardigan, and I thank the captain and attendant as I follow Kai down the stairs. The sun has set completely, bright white floodlights guiding our steps. Thankfully, it's still warm enough that the cardigan is all I need.

I see a sedan and driver on the tarmac, dressed in the same black pants and jacket that Spencer wears, though Spencer usually does away with the jacket pretty quickly, revealing the black button-up underneath. The similarities stop there. This man is harmless as a kitten, unlike Spencer's extreme height, broad shoulders, and threatening aura. Balding, in his late fifties, of normal height, and a little round from years of driving, I can easily see him in a sweater and khakis. Like a grandpa.

He opens the door for Kai with a warm "Good evening, Sir. Miss."

"Evening," Kai replies flatly, under his breath.

As cold as he is, I give an equally friendly smile. "Good evening." And then I hesitate, looking back at the plane.

"Miss?" The driver asks.

"I'm waiting for my friend," I answer. What could be taking Romero so long?

"Hilary," Kai calls. I duck my head to see into the car. Kai sits straight, looking out his passenger window. "We don't need a chaperon."

Right. This is a date.

"Come inside. We don't want to miss anything," Kai adds when I wait a moment longer. There's a darkly playful timbre to his voice, an effect added for the driver's benefit.

I step into the backseat, the driver shutting the door behind me. Without waiting, Kai reaches for the button on the roof to roll the partition up. He rarely ever does that with Spencer, and I can't help but feel bad for this older man. It must be hard to always be excluded, as though he isn't worth talking to.

"It's a date, Hilary," Kai reminds me again, sighing as if impatient with my feelings. "He probably thinks we're lovingly feeling each other up."

"Shush," I slap his arm, eyes darting forward. How soundproof are those panels? They look pretty flimsy to me.

"He can't hear us."

I huff, turning my head away. "Like I would be caught doing anything in the back of a car anyway."

Kai laughs a dark chuckle that has me rotating back around.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"The backseat is a classic," Kai shrugs casually.

"Have you"- I blink, trying to figure out how to ask this question, and, really, if I even want to know the answer.

My curiosity wins by a landslide. "Have you ever done anything in a car?"

His eyes darken. "Hilary," he says in a way that indicates I should know this answer.

"But." I look around. "It would be so uncomfortable. Not even mentioning the tight spaces, the lack of being able to move into a position. And anyone could just walk up and see you."

"That's half the appeal."

"No." I shudder.

"Happens all the time."

"Well, I actually have some class. You won't ever catch me in stripping in a car for any man."

Kai hums, turning back to his window.

I try to resist. I really do. But just as I know mocking gets to Kai, he seems to have learned how to draw me out. "What?"

"Nothing."

"No, Kai. What?"

"It's hard to believe you never did anything scandalous with Carlos. Based on what you told me, I figured a car or the bathroom of a bar would have been his first attempts."

I can't believe what he's saying. "The bathroom of a bar? Please don't tell me you -" I break off at his cocky look. I can't decide if that's a 'yes' or 'ask and find out' look, but I decide I don't want to know that much. "Gross."

"Would you have, if he asked?"

"Absolutely not," I say immediately. But in the back of my mind, I remember how desperate I was to keep Carlos. To get him to stay, I very well might have done anything.

I hear Kai tsk and look up. I'm almost scared to ask what he's thinking, but I don't have to this time.

"I bet I could get you to."

My heart thumps in my ears. I freeze. He was teasing a moment ago. Where did this come from? I wait for him to move – to lean forward and try. But he doesn't. He remains on his side of the bench seat, the narrow space of smooth leather between us.

I swallow. "If we met under different circumstances, right?" That's what he said at the beach house. Or something like that.

"Right."

I don't feel confident with his answer, but the heat in his eyes dies out a moment later, and he reverts to his usual teasing gaze. Was he teasing the entire time, just to see my reaction? This is just like at the party! And I won't stand for it again.

I work on a plan as we continue driving. I don't know the city we're in, but the streets are bright and busy. Shops are open, and people crowd the sidewalks. I notice the majority of the crowd is heading in the same direction we're going. Eventually, we pull to a stop, and the driver lets us out, passing Kai a large woven basket with two handles. With his free hand, Kai reaches out for my hand, and together we merge with the masses to cross the street.

Everyone is dressed differently, some more casual than others, and for once, I feel like I fit in. We get to the other side, keeping with the crowd. Euphoric excitement grows in me as I hear the lively conversations from the others around us. We pass under some concrete arches, and the sidewalk turns into a worn dirt path with grass on either side. So, we're in a park. And he has a basket.

"Are we having a picnic dinner?" I ask in disbelief. Kai? Eating on the ground?

"Just wait," he says.

As we carry on, the crowd separates, spreading out onto the grass. Though I'm constantly turning to look in every direction, our joined hands keep me tethered to Kai. We come to the top of a rolling hill, a soft slope leading to an outdoor stage. Rows of chairs are arranged in a crescent shape angled towards the audience. The crowd is dense at the front, standing room only. As it gets farther away, people spread out. Some on blankets, some sit on folding lawn chairs.

"A concert?"

"The city's Philharmonic is performing tonight. It's a preview of their upcoming winter program." Kai finally explains as he leads us to a place farther back, under a large tree. He sets down the basket and opens it, first pulling out a large red and white gingham blanket. When he's done fanning it out, he stands. "Surprised?"

"Very," I mutter, still taking everything in with eyes that feel both too wide and not big enough.

"Happy?"

"Yes." They've strung twinkle lights through some of the trees closer to the stage. The world seems magical already, and the musicians haven't even appeared on the stage yet. The energy surrounding us is a sort of blissful warmth. Everywhere I turn, I hear the sounds of happiness – in laughter, in conversation. The mass gathered at the front pulsates with excitement and awe.

Kai sits on the blanket. One leg stretches out in front of him while the other is propped up at the knee. He leans back, braced by his arms, and slowly rotates his neck. Looking at the available space, I debate whether to sit next to him or put the basket between us. Surely, no one will think we're having problems just because I don't literally sit on his lap.

The recent articles flash through my memory. Yes, of course, they will.

Kai's watchful eyes follow as I lower myself as close to him as I can without actually touching him. I curl my knees under me and to the side, allowing the cotton dress to fan out demurely. There's a gleam of something in his eyes – humor, possibly? I cannot understand what he's thinking, but all the clues tell me he is thinking about something.

I take a peek inside the basket. There are two containers of chicken wings in a saucy glaze, two salads, dressing on the side. A container of grapes, cheese, and crackers. Also, two plastic cups and two cans of sparkling apple juice. It looks good, perfect for a picnic. But...lackluster?

"I'm guessing Rei had nothing to do with this basket?" I ask, doing nothing to hide my disappointment.

"You don't miss a thing, do you?"

My lips pull into a flat line as I turn to glare at his sarcastic tone. Add this to the thing the car, and he's up two points. In my imagination, I pinch and painfully pull his cheek – teach him to speak that way to me. Instead, I lean my head on his unguarded shoulder. Kay said he hates public displays of affection. He's been doing a good job of sucking it up around me, but it still must be irritating to have to tolerate. I sigh peacefully. He says nothing.

"Seems you're all talk after all," I mutter close to his ear. It's a dare. A dare to take this a step further and prove he's not. Or admit defeat.

Though his energy comes off him in heated waves, he doesn't make a move. Kai: Two. Hilary: One.

Not wanting Kai to combust, I take pity and lean away from him, grabbing the grapes, cheese, and crackers from the basket, along with the two sturdy plates they included. I pile all the ingredients onto one plate for us to share. Picking up a grape, I hold it out to him, resting the smooth dark skin of the fruit against his lips. His eyes flash a warning, but he knows he has no ground. Of course, he'd accept a grape from me, his fiancee.

Kai opens his mouth to receive the grape. At the last second, I swoop it around, popping it into my mouth. The juices burst with the crunch. I smile after I swallow, laughing at Kai not finding the humor in the situation at all. His scowl is as sharp as one of Rei's knives. Hilary: Two.

"So, classical?" I ask, taking another grape for myself. "Thoughts?"

"Boring. Mundane. Tedious. Overhyped."

"No," I groan through a tired laugh. "You're one of those?"

Kai sighs. "I can appreciate a good symphony on occasion, but this is not my idea of a perfect night."

"Who hurt you?"

He snorts.

I don't expect him to ask me the same, so I carry on anyway. "I've never had the mind for music, though I wished I could play an instrument. I took piano lessons and then violin and then flute. Finally, they put me on the triangle before I quit."

"Let me guess, you went to all the performances in school."

"Of course, I did! I was student class president."

Kai's eyes narrow. "I didn't think that was included in the list of duties."

"Got me." I smile. "I still wanted to show my support, so I went to as many student activities as possible. Though, I did especially love the student orchestra. Being a private school, we had skilled musicians. Most went on to pursue music after graduation."

"Are you still in touch with any?"

I shake my head. "No, I wasn't really close with anyone. It was mostly just Kenny and me. Emily was around, but that usually caused more stress, and sometimes Kenny's one weird friend showed up."

"Weird friend?" He asks suspiciously. "You have a trend."

"Not like that," I laugh. "I was dating Kenny, remember."

As Kai goes to speak, doubtless to seek the answer to all his questions, I nudge him and motion to the stage. Like beautiful spirits dressed in black, they glide to their positions while the crowd erupts into applause.

"Shh. It's starting."

I do what I can to imprint the experience in my memory, taking in every detail. I've always loved the details. I try to never let them get past me. When we were kids, Emily would always fast forward through what she deemed the "boring bits" of a movie. With the remote control, she became drunk on power. When Emily grew bored of movies and left me alone, I'd go back and watch them. There were no boring parts to me, no moments that were wasted. I get the same feeling now. There's always so much to take in.

At some point, I have to adjust my sitting position. My muscles are stiff as I stretch out. My legs end far soon than Kai's, and I chuckle at how funny it looks.

"You've got great legs," Kai whispers. I pinch my lips because I know this is another attempt to get me to react. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you should've been a dancer. But I've heard the tales from Romero."

"Oh, Romero," I reply just as quietly, adding a layer of fake pity to my tone.

"Poor Romero. The man is lucky he still has all his toes."

I laugh at a slightly higher pitch than usual, glancing at him from the corner of my eye. My legs – which, as I've previously stated, are one of my better features – feel as stable as Jell-O after his comment. His eyes are fixed forward but seem so far away. Like he's bored despite the awesome concert we're being treated to. So much like Emily, wanting to skip what they deem uninteresting instead of finding the beauty in the details.

Soon comes time for the intermission. I take the opportunity to divide what is left in the basket on our two plates and pass Kai's portion to him. By now, the grapes are gone, consumed mainly by Kai, I assume as a way to stay awake. I swear I saw him swaying at some point and not with the music.

"So, what's up with you and symphonies?" I ask. "Classical is dead?"

"I already said I don't mind," he replies around a bite of his chicken. Somehow, he keeps the sauce from smearing across his lips and face. I'm just thankful they included wet wipes instead of plain napkins.

"Then what's the deal?"

He shrugs. "It's Ralf's thing."

"You two can't share something? I mean, I know you don't share...you know. But that doesn't mean you can't like the same things."

"He used to listen to it a lot. And loudly. Bach, Brahms, Saint-Saens, Chopin, Beethoven, Tchaikovsky. It was never-ending. And chess. We played so many games of chess at family gatherings. It's all he ever wanted to do."

It struck me then that Kai actually had to spend time with Ralf at some point. Even when I believed they were related, I didn't imagine doing anything together, ever. In retrospect, it seems odd to think they wouldn't spend time together. Not like me, Emily, King, and Queen. We spent summers together, our mothers dragging their families along on their adventures despite our resistance. Kai and Ralf just didn't go together in my head. But if Kai was only twelve when he rejoined the Hiwatari's, then that's a whole six years of spending time with his "cousin." Salima would have only been two or three at the time, so it really was just the two of them.

"Who's the better player?"

Kai glares. I know chess is Ralf's game. "He sucked at cards," Kai grumbles.

"I'm sure he did."

I hear a rustle behind us. As far back as we are, there shouldn't be many sitting farther back, so I turn to look, prompted by pure curiousness. A few couples stroll along the path, passing through or stretching their legs. But they shouldn't have made the sound I heard. Then I see it: the increasingly familiar glint of light reflecting off a camera license.

I snap my head back around.

"They back there?" Kai asks.

I nod. Even here, they follow. I know this was the deal but damn if they're not relentless.

"It's their paycheck," he answers my thoughts. "But it's what we need, so we should thank them."

"How? Give them the show they're waiting for? Should I crawl on your lap and run my hands through your hair? Would that be enough for them?" My words are acidic. I'd like to think any reasonable person would feel the same having their date watched so closely by a stranger.

Kai doesn't think this is a bad idea, I can tell.

"No," I warn.

"Want to play a game?"

"With you? No."

"You won't actually have to do anything," he whispers, his eyes traveling low, becoming hooded. "Just lean in a bit."

"Kai."

"Hilary."

The space between us closed with little help from me. Kai's done all the work, leaning dangerously close. I feel his breath fan over my lips and remember the last time he did this. I start slightly when I feel his fingers brush along my shoulder, settling at the back of my neck where he squeezes for precisely one moment. But it's enough.

"It's always a game with you, isn't it?"

There's a strange flicker in his eye. "No. Not always. But listen." He smirks and leans back. From the area where the cameras are, I hear a series of curses and cries. "Lost their money shot." He laughs darkly. Finally, his hand falls away.

Okay. That was a little fun. I try to stamp down on the smile so Kai doesn't get any ideas, but it comes through anyway. His eyes encourage my gleeful laughter, which tumbles out behind my hand. Just as quickly as it appeared, the joy leaves, and the same controlled expression returns. Just in time for the intermission to come to its end.

It's odd seeing the little bits of him more and more often. Kai has a unique brand of humor – oddly dark, in a challenging way. He likes getting things over others' heads, doing what they don't expect except when that's the last thing they want him to do. It's like his joy comes from frustrating others.

And just like that, another piece to the puzzle that is Kai falls into place. Though I feel like this one was right there all along, it has context now. Enough of the surrounding pieces are in place to clearly see where it fits. I spend some time on this thought through the remaining portion of the concert, clapping wildly when it's finished.

I stand aside, basket in hand, as Kai folds the blanket, flicking off leaves and grass as he goes. When it's small enough, I open the basket and allow him to place it inside.

"Thank you for bringing me," I say as he takes the basket from my hands. "It was a nice night."

"Tea, next?"

"So talented with words."

He offers his free arm for me to hook mine through, but I take it and wrap it over my shoulders instead. I keep his hand in mine, not bothering to glance up this time. Traveling like this, we find a busy café. It isn't the only one opened, but it is undoubtedly hosting a good portion of those who attended the concert with us. It's challenging to find a place for both of us to stand without being pushed into each other. By the third time I'm pressed to his side to avoid a wayward elbow, I can tell he's had enough.

"You can go outside," I offer, hoping to keep him from getting cranky. "It's just tea unless you want something."

I can see him debating, his gaze drifting to the side as he mentally weighs the pros and cons of leaving my side for the relief of being alone.

I laugh at how he hesitates. "I'll be fine. Go get some air."

Almost reluctantly, he steps away. But once he's committed to the idea, he doesn't turn back. The door swings shut behind him with a jingle of the bell at the top. It takes another ten minutes for me to get to the front and order my tea. I throw in a coffee order at the last second, just in case he wants something. Then another five minutes for my cups to appear in the window. I have to fight and dodge and duck to get to the front door, but as soon as I'm free, I see Kai standing at the curb, hands in his pockets, breathing the crisp night air.

"For you." I present him with the small coffee order, steam rising from the small hole at the top.

He doesn't say anything as he accepts it. It's the silent acceptance that I happily take as a thank you. Now that both of his hands are busy, we walk untethered but side by side through the busy street. I assume Kai knows where the car is, so I let him lead the way.

"Where else are we going?"

"I have no more surprises for tonight."

"I meant as the other dates. They're not all going to be surprises, right?"

"We'll plan more at home." His brow furrows. "I don't like how much this is taking me away from the office."

"Anything I can help you with?"

"No." Kai answers quickly.

I want to speculate the finality of his response but set it aside for later. Deciding not to push the topic, I switch to something else. "I've noticed the lack of Rick accompanying you lately. I hope it's not me keeping him away." I try to sound as if I don't really care to hide my curiosity. I doubt he can't see through me.

"He's been taking care of something else. Though, I also didn't want to hear you two constantly fighting."

"I don't think you'll have to worry about that," I say around the lid of my warm tea. "We seem to have come to an understanding."

"And what's that?"

"We both want you to be okay."

Kai's head snaps in my direction as he pulls up short. I stop a few steps in front of him, looking back in surprise and confusion. Is it that weird? His dark eyes search my face, and I think, perhaps, he's not used to people outright stating their intentions with him. Obviously, his friends care about him – love him, even. I don't think I've ever heard one of them say it. Not to his face.

He'll have to get over it. I start walking again, knowing he'll catch up in a few paces. And he does, falling in beside me without a word.

---

Hello everyone! I hope you're doing well and staying healthy. Thank you for all the readers and reviews. You make me very happy. The fact that you've been sticking around even though my schedule hasn't allowed me to update as frequently as before. As always, I appreciate the time you've given the story and look forward to hearing any thoughts you feel like sharing. Have a great morning/afternoon/evening/day/night/life wherever you are :) - Konix