He hadn’t offered her everything she wanted. He was never going to offer her that. She could see it so clearly now that it made her want to cry—like she was mourning something she’d never had.
But she didn’t cry. She met his eyes and said, “I know what you offered. You can give me more money and change my title and responsibilities, but nothing about this job is going to change for me. You can’t argue me out of this.”
“And what am I supposed to do without you?”
She almost choked at the urgent question, at the fiery look in his eyes. “Find someone else,” she said, her voice breaking on the last word.
“There is no one else.”
“I’m an assistant. You can find someone else to keep your files in order and answer your phones.”
“You do more than—”
“I know. But you can train someone else to do everything I do. I’m not irreplaceable.”
“I don’t want you to go.”
It was exactly what she’d always wanted to hear, but she couldn’t stand it now. Because he only wanted her because she made his life easier.
He didn’t want her for her.
“It’s not your choice to make. I’m giving you two-weeks’ notice. I’ll have an official letter for you in a few minutes.”
“I don’t accept it.”
She gasped in outrage. “You have to accept it. I’ve never known you to be a bastard before. Don’t start now.”
He glared at her, his hand still planted beside her. “We have to go to San Diego tonight,” he said, evidently putting the previous conversation behind him, at least for now.
It almost hurt—that he’d moved on so quickly. She was clearly irrational at the moment. “And you need me to go with you?”
“Of course I do. I have two weeks left, don’t I?”
“Yes. I just wasn’t expecting to go out of town.” She never would have complained or even questioned a trip before, but she didn’t have anything to lose here, and she really didn’t want to go. “I have plans.”
“What plans?”
“If you must know, I have a date.”
He dropped his hand and stepped back, tension radiating from his big body. “Is he proposing or something tonight?”
“No! Of course not. I just…” She trailed off, not finding any words for explaining why a first date would be important enough to miss a work trip for.
“You just what?”
“Nothing. I’ll be ready to go. What time are we leaving?”
“Not until five.”
“Okay. I’ll run home to pack and be back soon.”
“Good.”
He obviously wasn’t happy. He was standing in the middle of the floor, glowering at her.
“Okay.” She turned away from him, telling herself this was for the best and she wasn’t losing anything she’d ever really had.
Even though that was exactly how it felt right now.
She glanced back before she walked out. “Thank you for the book.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I’ll be back soon.” She’d already told him that, so she wasn’t sure why she’d felt the need to say it again.
“Okay. We’ll leave at five.”
He’d already told her that too. They both seemed to be in a strange sort of daze. She really needed to snap out of it.
If anything, she should be angry with Jake for his response just now. She shouldn’t be ready to cry.
Three
Jake drove a three-year-old Mercedes SUV, and Anne was sitting in the passenger seat at seven o’clock that evening, on her way with him to San Diego.
It wasn’t a long drive down the coast, but there was always a lot of traffic so it was slow going.
Particularly slow today.
Jake had been on the phone the whole time, and Anne had been taking notes and drafting up emails she would have to send, based on the phone conversations she overheard.
He’d just disconnected with Max about next quarter’s budget and was obviously thinking through who else he needed to call.
Jake hated wasting time—even driving in a car.
Anne finished the email she’d been drafting and glanced over at him. “Anyone else?”