A Little Bit Married

Fifty Per cent

"What the f**k do you think you are doing?" Gray said, and I didn't even need to look up to his eyes to know just how disgusted he was.

Samantha seemed to just realize that he wasn't alone with me as she had probably expected, and she gasped, letting go of the food box.

"Gray, I..."

"Get the f**k out, Samantha."

She immediately started to cry. "I am sorry, Gray. I swear, I just..."

"f*****g get out! You too, Sandra. Everybody get out. Right now."

I swallowed and immediately started to move. Even the men who were on the couch immediately stood up, murmuring something that suggested a meeting at another time, and walked away.

The woman was the last to leave, and I caught a glimpse of her as she walked past me. She looked utterly dejected, her chest heaving, her shoulders low. She seemed like a ghost of her former self, but there was no way I could ever forget Kevin's mother. What was she doing in Gray's office?

She didn't look at me, and I wondered if she had seen me earlier. If she had recognized me. If she was avoiding me now.

Sandra soon followed, her lips downturned in defeat as she realized there was nothing she could do to reverse her early retirement.

"Gray, I am sorry, I just..."

"Leave," Gray asserted, and Damantha sighed, then turned away.

I started to move, too, but Gray tightened his grip around my shoulders. "Not you."

She turned, her eyes wide as she took me in. Her eyes fell on Gray's hand, and I saw them darken considerably.

"What are you waiting for?"

I could see her trying to protest, but then gave up and walked away, leaving the door open. Gray slowly let me go, kicked the food box out of the office, and then closed the door.

"What are you doing here?" He asked suddenly, turning to me.

I felt my heart jump a little, but I slowly raised the packed lunch. "I, uhmm... prepared lunch."

He looked down at it.

"I am sorry," I said, shrugging a bit. "I should have figured you would have a private chef. I will just leave, too."

He didn't say a word, and I sighed, hating how my hardwork would go to waste, and how this wasn't the romantic wifely gesture I had expected it to be.

I slowly started to walk to the door, but he suddenly held my hand in place, stopping me from leaving.

I turned, my brows drawn. "Do you want something?"

He met my eyes. "Yes."

I bit down on my lips. "What is that?"

"The food you brought," he said like it was the most obvious thing on the planet.

"Oh," I said, then nodded. I thrust the food to him, my eyes still holding his. I expected him to just take it and let me leave, but his eyes fell to the food before he looked up to me again.

"And you."

I blinked. "What?"

"You asked what I wanted. I want the food. And you."

"Gray, I..."

"Take a seat," he said, releasing my hand. "I was due for a break anyway."

I watched him uncertainly as he walked past me towards a mini bar. He took out a bottle of wine and then two glasses.

"Are you allowed to get drunk at work?"

He shrugged as he poured himself a drink. "Who will they report me to?"

I couldn't help but laugh at that. "That is some power play right there."

"The only reason for power acquisition in the first place. Did you bring cutlery?"

"Are you sure you want to have this?" I asked, suddenly doubting my cooking capabilities, especially when I knew he could have a standard three star Michelin meal.

He raised a brow as he kept the glasses and wine bottle on the table between the couches. "Why did you bring it if you didn't want me to have it?"

I shrugged. "Well, Samantha was going to. I mean, I wanted to, but then she was going to, and I knew I had to."

"Jealous, are we?"

I slowly walked to the couch and sat opposite him, then set the food on the table. "I have nowhere else to go. I would end up with nothing if I am not territorial enough."

"Wow," he said, then leaned back. "I feel very used."

I bit down on my lips. "That wasn't the..."

"And you are wrong. If we split, you will have alimony."

"Very comforting," I said with a small laugh.

He watched me, then gave me a small smile. "Come sit here, so we don't have to stand in front of a judge and explain that I don't want to give fifty per cent."

I broke into a laugh, then pulled the food with me and came to sit on his right. I leaned forward and opened up everything. From the main course to the steak, the fresh banana bread, the fruits I had cut up.

He watched the spread keenly, then slowly reached for a fork. For a while, he just held it, however, and I bit down on my lips, starting to worry if he didn't like something.

"Is everything okay?"

He met my eyes, then turned away again. "The last time anyone packed lunch for me, it was my mother."

I felt a lump rise up my throat, and I felt my chest tighten. Slowly, I leaned forward and held his hand, offering my support and my presence.

He gave a laugh. "This is one of those things you shouldn't tell anyone."

"That the almighty Gray is moved by food?"

"What did I say about fifty per cent again?"

I broke into a laugh and shook my head. "I promise we won't have to get there."

I stopped, my brows furrowing. He was watching me now, and I bit down on my lips, realizing just what I had done. I had just indirectly said that I would make sure we stayed married.

He gave a small smile and turned away, reaching for the food. I swallowed, my heart racing as I kept my eyes on his profile. The tension was thick, and I cleared my throat, my mind wandering.

I mean, it wasn't so bad doing this. I watched as he ate slowly, and a small smile lifted my lips. This is exactly why I wanted to be a chef. Maybe I couldn't be a chef, but I would definitely be doing this again.

Hell, I would make sure to pack lunch for him tomorrow, too.