He hesitated for the briefest moment. “Well, no. Not anyone.”
There it was again, that big red anger ball of fire blowing up in front of her eyes so she couldn’t even see straight. “You made my job sound like a joke!”
He tried to move toward her again, but she took another step back.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” he said. “I didn’t mean anything against you personally. I was just thinking in terms of the expenses and the necessities, and…”
“And you don’t need little old me to do something a monkey could do?”
“Stop it,” he said sharply. “Don’t do that.”
“Don’t do what? Don’t call attention to the fact that you’re being completely demeaning?”
“No, I mean don’t take all of your personal issues with your family and put them on me. I’ve never considered you inadequate.”
“I heard you, Gray. You think this job is unimportant. You think I’m unimportant.”
“I would have taken you with me to Maui in a personal capacity,” he said quietly.
It was the wrong thing to say. “Oh, would you have?” she asked sweetly. “What would you have done, kept me stashed in your hotel room while the important people had important discussions?”
“Sophie, try to be rational. Do you really think this Blackwell deal requires your presence on a professional level? If so, then I’ll be glad to hear your case. But don’t try to use your employment as your entire sense of validation. Don’t do that to yourself. Do you even like this job? I hardly get the sense that filing is your life’s passion.”
He had her there. She didn’t dislike her job. The pay was good and she liked being around the man she loved all day long even when it was painful. But the job itself didn’t thrill her. It had long ceased being a challenge.
Still, she wanted her job to matter. This was supposed to be her path to respect. Instead she was no better off than she had been mopping up tequila. Why did everyone seem to think it was okay to treat her occupation as some sort of insignificant hobby? She’d never given Brynn crap for fitting metal to teeth all day. And she’d never told her mom that knowing twelve ways to explain the benefits of a walk-in closet hardly was going to change the world. Who were they to decide what was worthy and what wasn’t?
“I thought you were different,” she said finally, feeling some of the fight go out of her. “I thought you understood.”
“Different how? Understand what? Help me out here,” Gray said impatiently, spreading his hands to the sides in exasperation. “You want me to tell you that being a secretary’s the most important job in the world? News flash, it’s not. None of our jobs are. If you want to base your entire self-worth on your paycheck, go ahead, but don’t expect me to walk on eggshells and blow smoke up your ass.”
“I’ll grant you that we’re not exactly saving the world here, but how am I supposed to spend my life with a man who thinks I’m disposable?”
She closed her eyes in dismay as she heard what she’d just said. She’d implied lifetime togetherness with a man who didn’t want marriage. Sophie prayed that he’d missed her slip. Or at least would ignore it.
He didn’t.
“That’s another thing, Sophie. I’ve never promised a lifetime. What we have is special. It’s fun. But you’ve known that I don’t want to get married, so I don’t know where you get off acting like I’ve just threatened some grand happy ever after. You’ve known this wasn’t forever. I’ve never lied about that.”
Sophie reeled. She hadn’t even realized how much she’d thought the night after the company picnic had changed things between them. But here he was telling her otherwise, in what was probably the longest speech of his life.
And it told her everything she needed to know.
“Gray?” she said sweetly.
“What?”
“I quit.”
“What? Now? I didn’t mean you had to quit effective immediately. We’ll need time to find a replacement, and for you to train them…”
The fact that his first thought was business solidified her decision even as it broke her heart.
But she knew what she had to do. “That’s not my problem, Gray. If you insist on me coming in for the next two weeks, I will because it’s standard business protocol, but I should warn you that they’ll likely be very awkward for both of us.”
“Why’s that?”
She smiled thinly. “Because I’m not just quitting Brayburn Luxuries.”
His eyes went cold and flat, and she saw that he understood.
“I’m also quitting you,” she said softly.
She hadn’t been expecting a reaction, and she didn’t get one. He stood there staring at her, his expression unreadable.