Chapter Five: The Dinner
1106 Words
Ethan Blackwood's POV
"You look terrible."
Those were the first words my father said the moment I stepped into his private dining room. I pulled out the chair opposite him.
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"It wasn't meant to be one."
Richard Blackwood folded the newspaper in front of him before setting it aside. Even at fifty-eight, he carried the same commanding presence that had built Blackwood Holdings from a modest investment firm into one of the country's most influential corporations.
Unlike me, however, he paid attention to people before profits. It was something we had argued about for years.
The waiter poured two glasses of water before quietly excusing himself. For several moments, neither of us spoke.
My father was never a man who rushed conversations. He preferred silence until the truth became uncomfortable enough to reveal itself.
Finally, he looked at me. "How many assistants did you reject today?"
I reached for my glass. "Seven."
He raised an eyebrow. "Only seven?"
"They weren't qualified."
"Were they..." He paused deliberately. "...or were they simply not Sophia?"
I met his gaze. "They lacked experience."
"They lacked familiarity with your habits."
"They'll learn."
"They weren't her."
I set my glass down. "Why is everyone suddenly making this about Miss Carter?"
Richard leaned back in his chair. "Because everyone except you noticed what she meant to this company."
I frowned. "She's an excellent employee."
My father gave a quiet, almost disappointed smile.
"Is that truly all she is?"
"Yes."
The answer came too quickly. Even I noticed it. Richard noticed it too.
"Then why are you interviewing every candidate personally?" I said nothing. "We have an entire Human Resources department." Silence. "You've never interviewed a secretary before." Silence again. He sighed. "You don't even realize what you're doing."
"I know exactly what I'm doing."
"Do you?"
His calm voice somehow carried more weight than anger ever could. "You've spent three years depending on one woman for almost every aspect of your professional life." "You trusted her judgment." "You relied on her memory." "You placed your schedule, your company, and your reputation in her hands." He held my gaze. "And somehow..." "You still convinced yourself she was replaceable."
The waiter returned with dinner. Neither of us touched our food.
"I'll find another secretary."
Richard shook his head slowly. "No." "You'll find another employee." "But you'll never find another Sophia Carter."
---
The words followed me long after dinner ended. I hated admitting it, but they lingered in my mind during the drive home.
My penthouse overlooked the entire city. Normally, the silence after work never bothered me. Tonight… It did. I loosened my tie and walked into my study.
The schedule for tomorrow should have been on my desk. It wasn't. I frowned before remembering.
Sophia had emailed it instead of leaving a printed copy. One small change. Yet the room felt strangely unfamiliar. I opened my laptop. My inbox contained dozens of unread emails. Buried among them was one from Sophia. Tomorrow's Schedule. Concise. Organized. Every meeting is color-coded. Every document attached. Exactly as always.
My phone vibrated. Oliver.
"What?"
"You sound cheerful."
"I've had a long day."
"So has Human Resources."
I rubbed my temple.
"How many applicants tomorrow?"
"Another twelve."
"Fine."
A brief silence followed. "Ethan."
"What?"
"Have you actually asked Sophia why she's leaving?"
"I asked."
"No." Oliver sighed. "You asked for a reason." "You didn't ask how she got to that decision."
I frowned. "There's a difference." "A huge one."
He continued before I could interrupt. "You've spent years assuming she'll always be there." "Maybe..." His voice softened. "...she got tired of waiting for you to notice her."
The line went dead. I stared at the phone for several seconds before tossing it onto the sofa. Notice her? I noticed Sophia every day.
She organized my meetings. Handled negotiations. Managed impossible deadlines. She was exceptional at her job. What else was there to notice?
---
The following morning arrived with another list of interviews. By ten o'clock, I had already dismissed three candidates.
The fourth entered carrying an impressive résumé. She barely sat down before asking,
"What benefits come with the position?"
I looked toward Sophia. She quietly wrote something on her evaluation form.
"What did you write?"
She hesitated. "She won't last a week."
The applicant blinked. "I'm sorry?"
Sophia offered an apologetic smile. "You asked about benefits before responsibilities."
"Mr. Blackwood values commitment more than compensation."
The woman stiffened. "I think compensation is important."
"It is." Sophia nodded politely.
"But timing says a great deal about priorities."
The interview ended two minutes later. As the candidate hurried out, I looked at Sophia.
"You knew she wasn't suitable before I did."
"I've worked with you long enough."
She gathered the files neatly.
"I know what you're looking for."
The words settled between us. For some reason, they sounded less like confidence… And more like farewell.
---
That afternoon, I walked past her desk and stopped.
She was organizing training manuals for whoever replaced her. Page by page. File by file. Every instruction is written in neat handwriting. She wasn't leaving chaos behind. She was making sure the person after her succeeded. Even now...
She was thinking about everyone except herself. Without realizing it, I picked up one of the folders. Inside were handwritten notes.
Mr. Blackwood skips lunch when stressed. Remind him politely.
Never schedule difficult meetings before his morning coffee.
He works better when major decisions are presented with three possible solutions instead of one.
Always carry printed copies, even if he asks for digital files. He'll eventually request the paper version.
I turned to another page. He pretends he doesn't get tired. He does.
My fingers stopped moving. For a long moment… I simply stared at the words. They weren't instructions. They were observations. The kind only someone who had spent years paying attention would notice.
I slowly closed the folder. When I looked up, Sophia was watching me. Neither of us spoke.
Then, with the same quiet professionalism she had shown every day for the last three years, she stepped forward and gently took the folder from my hands.
"I still have a few things to finish before I leave, Mr. Blackwood."
Leave. The word echoed in my mind long after she walked away. For the first time since she handed me that resignation letter...
The reality finally settled in. Sophia Carter wasn't threatening to leave. She was already preparing a world that no longer needed her in it. And for reasons I couldn't explain… That thought made the executive floor feel far emptier than it ever had before.
- Writer
