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“I wanted to run tech,” she told him.
Jayson’s mouth was a grim line. “I know.”
“And my father gave to it to you like...some sort of dowry?” Gross. That’s what this was. “You never told me. And you had an opportunity to do so the other night.”
“I only wanted to protect and care for you. I—”
“I only wanted you to love me!” she shouted, tears rolling down her cheeks. Damn him. He hadn’t changed at all.
“I tried! Do you know how hard it is to want to be everything to the woman who needs nothing from you?”
She shook her head, but he kept talking.
“You could make a career out of pushing me away.”
“What about the last time we were together?” she asked. “What about you leaving and telling me where we stood? That was you pushing me away.”
“I know your pattern. The second we get close you back away. I was giving you an out.”
“You were protecting yourself!”
“Oh, really?” His expression shifted from disbelief to anger in a snap. “And what about now, when your dad offered me the vice president position on a silver platter? Was I protecting myself?”
No.
He wasn’t.
“I don’t want a pity job, Jayson.” She put the cake on the table, the melting ice cream pooling onto the plates in the warm night air.
“It’s not pity.” Exasperated, he threw up his hands. “I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t. You don’t want me to give you anything, but you don’t want me to take anything for myself either. And by the way, I did love you. So much I was stupid with it. Can you say the same?”
Yes. And she could say that right now, in fact. Judging by everything he’d just said, though, he wouldn’t want to hear it. She found herself guilty of doing what she’d accused Jayson of doing—protecting herself.
“You don’t have to answer that,” he said. “That’s the benefit to being divorced. We don’t have to answer to each other anymore.”
He walked around her to the patio door but before he disappeared inside, he had more parting wisdom. “Being in the role of vice president is your destiny, Gia. You wanted to be involved with tech, marketing? The entire damn company? Here’s your chance. Take the VP position and step into your role at ThomKnox. For a change, claim what you deserve.”
Then he was gone.
She slumped onto the lounger, her eyes clouded with tears and her mind racing. Her emotions were battling each other. She wanted him, but was afraid to tell him. She wanted to step into a greater position at ThomKnox, but didn’t want to risk failing. She’d crowed about wanting a shot at making her own decisions and mistakes. Now she had the opportunity and she was too scared to do either.
And, possibly the most depressing of all... She’d wanted to tell Jayson that she loved him but she couldn’t.
He didn’t love her. Not anymore.
Chester filled a small shot glass with golden liquid and pushed it under Jayson’s nose.
“I fucked up,” Jayson said, his speech slurred thanks to the three tequila shots that had preceded this one. He’d come here straight from Gia’s. Too pissed off to drive home and stew in his own juices, and maybe a little bit needing the comfort only Chester’s empanadas could provide.
As it turned out, Jayson couldn’t eat.
Ches, a bartender, had taken one look at him and asked what was wrong and Jay had spilled his guts.
“It happens to the best of us,” Ches said. “Now drink.”
“I don’t want it.” But Jay took it anyway. Drinking until he forgot what an idiot he was wasn’t a great plan, but it was the only one he had. After downing the liquor that’d done a good job of making his head swim already, he lay back on the uncomfortable outdoor couch. The palm trees overhead canted at an awkward angle and his stomach flopped. He was horribly uncomfortable without a pillow—as if the cushions were built out of the same hard material as the frame. He sat up as quickly as he’d lay down, his head spinning in protest. “I hate this couch.”
“So do I,” Mason said, stepping outside to deliver a tray of beers in pilsner glasses. “And he paid five grand for it.”
