She was already irritated.
“This isn’t even your working time,” I continued, stepping closer. “So what exactly are you yelling about?”
A short breath left me. She really had a talent for pushing the wrong buttons at the wrong hour.
“That’s always it with you,” she added, crossing her arms. “Your pride.”
“That’s always what you’ve thought about me,” I whispered quietly. “Pride.”
“I don’t have time for this banter.” I shook my head.
She scoffed. “Banter?” she repeated. “You call everything banter when it’s convenient for you.”
Something in my chest shifted. I was already exhausted as it was.
She stepped closer again.
“You came to do your job,” I said, voice flattening. “So do it. But not like this.”
Her brows pulled together. “Not like what?”
“Like you’re forcing your way into pla
