To say that Gray’s life had been disorderly for the past couple of months was an understatement. His once-calm routine had been turned upside down, and no matter how carefully he planned his days, fate continued to throw him one curveball after another.
And he knew exactly when the turn from comfortable to chaos had occurred.
Right about the time he’d encountered a certain blonde firework in an elevator. He no longer thought it was coincidence. Fate had apparently delivered Sophie as some sort of trial, and the woman was turning out to be absolute hell on his nerves.
She’d become both invaluable and intolerable as an assistant. She anticipated his every need before he asked. Her cheerful social skills on the phone easily smoothed over any feathers he inadvertently ruffled by his lack of inane social niceties. And she’d apparently read Martin’s secretary’s notes cover to cover, because in addition to her intuition about every single business deal, she now knew staff birthdays and the names of potential clients’ children and had memorized the menus of every business caterer in Seattle.
But as much as he relied on her, most of the time her presence soured his mood. Sophie was just too much. Too much energy, too many smiles, too Goddamn infuriating.
As if all that weren’t enough, he had yet another frustrating woman to reckon with.
Jenna was due at the Seattle airport in an hour, and Gray hadn’t a clue how he was going to pick up his little sister and manage his meeting with the Blackwells. Hell, he didn’t even know how he’d double booked himself in the first place, other than that he’d avoided giving Sophie access to his calendar after she’d begun booking thirty-minute “mental breaks” into his work schedule.
“Sophie!” he barked.
She threw him an arch look through the glass and took her precious time strutting into his office. She was wearing some sort of dress that looked like cotton candy and her shoes had bows on them. Bows.
“Why are you yelling?” she asked.
“I don’t yell.”
“Your voice was raised.”
“I had to raise my voice to get your attention,” he ground out.
“You’ve never raised your voice before to get my attention when I’m at my desk. I can hear you just fine with your normal voice-of-doom volume.”
“Sophie.”
“Gray.”
“You are possibly the most annoying assistant ever. I should fire you.”
Her blue eyes narrowed as if daring him to try. “Did you call me in here just because you’re cranky?” she asked.
Her impertinence should have rankled him, but instead he felt the odd urge to smile. But smiling would only encourage her, so he scowled instead.
“I need a town car.”
“Has Seattle driving become too much for you?” She studied her fingernails.
“It’s not for me. I need it sent to the airport to pick up my sister.”
She stared at him. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Your sister is coming to visit, and you’re having her picked up in a town car instead of meeting her yourself?”
He flinched. “I’m busy.”
“With what, world domination? Practicing your glare? Take an hour off, for God’s sake. I’ll clear your calendar.”
“I would, but it’s the Blackwells. Remember them? You had them eating out of your palm and now they’re coming back to discuss a potential deal. Today, of all days.”
“Don’t get pissy with me. If you’d let me manage your calendar like assistants are paid to do, you wouldn’t be in this pickle,” she said primly.
“I’m not in a pickle. Just get the damn town car, would you?”
“Is this sister your only sister?”
“Yes,” he said wearily.
“Your baby sister, right?”
“Yes, she and Jack are twins. I can sketch you a family tree later, but for now I just need you to get me the car.”
“Doesn’t Jack live around here? Why can’t he pick her up?”
“Because he has an exam today. She’s twenty-four, not in junior high. She can manage to get home from the airport without a big brother escorting her.”
Even as he said it, his gut gave a sharp twist of guilt. Of course Jenna would be fine in a town car, but he wished he could pick her up personally. Their relationship was cordial, but he’d never had the closeness with the twins that they had with each other. Something he’d been meaning to rectify for years, but could never quite find the time. Or the method. He just didn’t have the ability to easily converse in the way that came so naturally to Jack and Jenna.
Sophie got that assessing look that Gray now knew meant trouble. He wished for the hundredth time that the assistant assigned to him was someone uncomplicated and professional. Someone like Brynn.
Although if Brynn had been his assistant, he wouldn’t have been able to date her. Because CEOs did not date their assistants unless they wanted a lawsuit on their hands. Something he’d nearly forgotten the previous Friday night. It was amazing what months of celibacy could do to a man. He’d almost pulled a page from the How to Be a Sleaze handbook and made a play for his secretary.
Thinking about how close he’d come to kissing Sophie made him uneasy.
Neither of them had mentioned it, but if the sexual tension had been simmering before, it was nearing a boil.
He didn’t like it.
She opened her mouth again, and his strained temper exploded. “Whatever you’re thinking, just drop it,” he snapped. “All I need is for you to make a simple phone call and have them pick up Jenna Wyatt. Her cell phone number is in my contact database. Nothing weird. No limo, no flowers, no welcome committee.”
“You got it,” she said with suspicious calm. “I’ll order some sandwiches and have them delivered to the conference room. You should meet them in there instead of your office. They won’t be as intimidated if it doesn’t feel so much like your turf. You’ll get further with men like them if they don’t feel threatened. “
Gray just shook his head. Most of Sophie’s ideas on social manipulations were beyond him, but as long as she continued to help the business, he’d humor her. Plus, it would get him out of this atrocious orange chair. He hated the thing almost as much as he’d hated the uncomfortable rocking chair that Martin had left behind, but he wasn’t about to give Sophie the satisfaction of complaining. The woman was at her best when she goaded him into talking, snapping, or yelling.
It seemed to be in his best interest to keep the upper hand. And if keeping the upper hand meant sitting every day in a chair that looked like it was covered in Halloween spray paint, so be it.
A quick glance at her desk verified that she had in fact picked up her phone to call the town car. Relaxing slightly, Gray pulled up the Blackwell file on his computer. He’d spent all of the previous evening researching the proprieties, but no matter which way he looked at it, the buildings themselves just didn’t warrant the Blackwells’ asking price. In order to bring the buildings up to Brayburn standards, he’d either have to implement major renovations or tear the damn things down and start from scratch.
It wasn’t going to be a pleasant discussion. Gray could only hope that the son wouldn’t tag along this time. It was bad enough that he had to go toe to toe with the stubborn Peter Blackwell. Watching Alistair sniff after his assistant’s tight little ass like a randy dog would be more than he could handle.
His cell vibrated and he saw his brother’s name. “Jack. Aren’t you supposed to be taking a test right now?”
“Easy, big brother. It doesn’t start for another twenty minutes. Are you on your way to pick up the monster?”
“No, I had a conflict. I sent a car.”
He was met with silence on the other end.
“I had to, Jack; this deal is huge,” Gray said, hating that his tone sounded defensive. “I’m already struggling to keep this company above water as it is.”
“I get it,” Jack replied shortly.
Sure you do. “Let’s meet up for dinner later. What time are you free?”
They settled on a time for what would likely be an uncomfortable family dinner. They’d fall into the usual Wyatt routine of Jack and Jenna chattering eagerly like the Bobbsey twins while Gray would awkwardly try to insert himself into the conversation.
The twins had enough manners to make polite inquiries about Gray’s life, but he winced at the lameness of his own inevitable answers.
No girlfriend. I tried, but she turned out to be too perfect and I got bored.
No social life. I don’t know how to make friends.
What’s that? My secretary? Yeah, I mistakenly implied that she humped for money and she now spends every hour of the day pushing my buttons.
Dinner with the family would be only slightly worse than eating alone. Or eating pizza with Sophie.
That had not been his wisest decision. He’d just felt so damn alone. Even Sophie’s constant rambling seemed preferable to the endless solitude. But then she’d started berating herself and he’d lost his temper. He still wasn’t sure exactly what it was that had had him advancing on her like a lion stalking a helpless mouse. For all her damn spunk and spice, there was a big hole where her self-worth should have been.
Despite the fact that Sophie was smart, attractive, and competent, she seemed to think that she was slumming it because she wasn’t a neurosurgeon or quantum physicist. And he’d just been sick of hearing about it. He’d wanted her to feel special. Wanted.
Well, not wanted in the sexual way. Okay, maybe in the sexual way.
But damn, he hadn’t been prepared for her to show up in her tight little yoga pants and all that hair pulled back into a perky ponytail. And the way she’d worried about making sure he’d eaten…
He knew better than to be reeled in. Jessica had pulled a similar stunt by bringing him homemade chicken soup when he was sick, and look how that had turned out. He’d gotten soup, and his partner had gotten into his fiancé’s pants. Oddly, what bugged him most in hindsight was that the blasted soup had tasted like it had come from a can. Homemade, my ass.
Maybe he should call Brynn again. Perhaps he’d been too hasty in ending their relationship before giving it a chance. She was everything he was looking for. Successful, lovely, calm…
No. He was bored just thinking about it. Plus it would mean enduring more Dalton family dinners, and no woman was worth that.
Still…he needed a girlfriend. Someone to talk to. Ian was great, but weekly sessions at the gym with another dude weren’t the same as lingering dinners with a woman.
But finding the right woman had proven a hell of a lot more difficult than any business venture he’d undertaken. He’d given up on dating in Chicago after Jessica, and the Seattle dating pool hadn’t been much better. He wasn’t even sure what he was looking for anymore.
Gray did, however, know what he wasn’t looking for. He didn’t want someone too cheerful and talkative. And maybe it was time to try a brunette this time—someone serious and focused. Someone who wouldn’t wear a miniskirt to a business function just to piss him off.
His eyes unwillingly fell on his assistant. Someone not like Sophie.
* * *
“Where’s that cute little Sally?” Alistair Blackwell asked around a mouthful of his third salami panini.
Gray clenched his teeth. The thought of this creep lusting over his assistant was not improving his mood. It was becoming rapidly apparent than Alistair’s only purpose in joining them for the day was free food and getting into Sophie’s pants.
“I believe Ms. Dalton is on her lunch break,” Gray replied coolly.
Actually, Gray had no idea where Sophie was. He hadn’t seen her since he’d requested she call a town car, but he assumed she was off eating a fancy overpriced salad at one of the nearby restaurants with the other office women. He hated to admit it, but he almost wished she were here to work her nauseating female magic on the Blackwells.
As if Sophie had read his thoughts, he heard the sound of familiar female laughter. Finally she was back from her froufrou girly lunch. Really, she couldn’t have waited to do an extended lunch on a day when his personal and professional life weren’t in mayday status?
Slowly his mind registered that he was hearing the laughter of two women. Both sounded familiar.
His spine stiffened in realization. Oh God.
Alistair, completely oblivious to the turmoil running through Gray’s mind, seemed delighted to see not one, but two females approaching through the glass partition.
“Well, well, your pretty Sally has a pretty friend,” he said, all but licking his lips.
“My assistant’s name is Sophie,” Gray ground out. “And that pretty friend you’re ogling is my little sister.”
He didn’t have to turn around to know it was Jenna. The low, cynical chuckle and the raspy jazz-diva voice were all too familiar. Gray had spent the past decade trying to keep the twins away from his professional life, and Sophie had managed to undo years of careful maneuvering in one afternoon.
“Sophie!” Alistair was booming, heading toward the door of the conference room. “I was wondering when we’d get to see your pretty face.”
“Mr. Blackwell,” Sophie cooed. “It’s so lovely to see you again. Allow me to introduce Mr. Wyatt’s sister. This is Jenna, visiting us all the way from New York. I just picked her up at the airport.”
Sophie shot Gray a triumphant look, and as much as he wanted to drag his assistant into his office by her hair, it was hardly the time to address her misunderstanding of the words “town car.”
Gray settled for sending her a glare. We’ll talk later.
She smiled back at him. You’re welcome.
“Gray, aren’t you going to say hello to your sister?”
He jolted guiltily. He’d been so busy glaring at Sophie that he’d forgotten all about greeting Jenna. His sister looked beautifully dangerous, as always. Dressed in tight black pants and some sort of knit top, she looked every bit the New Yorker she’d been for all of the past three months.
Before that, she’d been a Southern belle. Before that, a cowgirl.
Dark hair fell in thick waves around Jenna’s shoulders, and one perfectly groomed brow arched above a gray eye not unlike his own.
“Hello, brother dearest. It was so thoughtful of you to send your assistant since you couldn’t make it in person. I’d have thought you’d have just sent a town car, but this was a nice personal touch.”
Gray smiled thinly.
“You’re quite the assistant, Ms. Dalton,” Peter was saying to Sophie as Gray awkwardly hugged his sister. “You fetch lunch, answer phones, and pick up your boss’s sister from the airport…”
“What other services do you offer, Soph?” Alistair said with a grin, his eyes fixated on Sophie’s breasts.
And that was quite enough of that. Gray stepped forward between Sophie and the Blackwells.
“Jenna, it’s great to see you, but as you can see, we’re just wrapping up a business meeting here. Let’s meet up for dinner later?”
“By all means,” his sister purred, her expression betraying nothing.
Alistair finally managed to tear his eyes away from Sophie’s chest and did a double take as he took in the full impact that was Jenna. His sister was stunning, which had been hell on an older brother while she was in her teens. Now that she’d blossomed into a confident and edgy woman, she’d become downright dangerous. Her eyes were the trademark Wyatt gray, except hers tilted upward slightly, giving her the look of a predatory cat. A slim body and long silky chestnut hair had attracted the attention of many a modeling scout. Which Jenna had, of course, pursued, if only to irk both of her brothers.
The combination of Sophie’s sunny glow and Jenna’s sultry smirk was too much for the Blackwell men to handle, and Gray sensed their already-iffy focus starting to wane.
“We’ll get out of your way,” Sophie said smoothly, apparently sensing the tension in the room. “I’m sure both Mr. Blackwells here are eager to get back to work.”
“I was just about to suggest we men get back down to business. You took the words right out of my mouth,” Alistair said, puffing up slightly. “Ladies, I’d love to entertain you, but I’ve always been a man of focus, I’m afraid. Occupational hazard.”
“I completely understand,” Sophie replied with a straight face. “I couldn’t bear it if little women like me and Jenna here distracted you.”
Jenna snickered, and Gray sent Sophie a warning glance. Now was not the time for her to show the Blackwells her sugar-coated fangs.
“Perhaps we could all grab dinner after,” Alistair suggested with a lingering glance at Sophie’s shapely calves.
“Son, I’m sure they have a nice family dinner planned,” Peter said chidingly. “We don’t want to intrude.”
Jenna laughed softly. “You don’t know the Wyatts that well, then,” she said. “For us, family and business go hand in hand. Dinner just wouldn’t be the same unless work crept into it, right, Gray?”
The accusation stung more than Gray wanted to admit, but he gave a tense smile. “I’m sure Mr. Blackwell was just being polite with his offer. I can’t imagine what all of us would have to say to each other over a meal.”
Sophie shot him a look. Watch it. Coddle them.
“But,” Gray amended hastily, “if you’re in town tomorrow night, dinner would be great. It’d give us a chance to talk about your property in a more informal setting. Maybe get to know each other better.”
Sophie smothered a laugh, and Jenna tilted her head to the side and eyed him suspiciously.
“Actually, we need to fly out tomorrow morning,” Peter said. “It’s my wife’s birthday tomorrow, so we need to head back to the islands. But no need to schmooze us over dinner. I think we’ve come about as far as we can in this discussion, don’t you think?”
Shit, Gray thought, his mind reeling for ways to save the deal. “I have just a few more points to wrap up if you have the time,” Gray said hastily. “Jen, I should be done here within a couple hours, if you want to grab drinks.”
“Sounds great,” she said with surprising agreeability.
“Unless…” Sophie began.
Oh no. No. No. No. But, of course, she kept going.
“Well, I’m just thinking, neither Jenna nor the Blackwells here have really seen Seattle. No harm in killing two birds with one stone. We could all see something of the city, and finish the evening with a dinner? Gray’s buying.”
Great. Now she was a fucking Girl Scout troop leader using company money?
“I’m game,” Jenna said.
“I could probably find the time.” Alistair looked ridiculously pleased with himself.
“Well,” mused Peter, “I suppose we all need to eat, and I wouldn’t mind hearing a local’s opinion on Seattle. Especially a beautiful local.”
Sophie laughed prettily, and Peter blushed slightly, smiling at her like a fond father.
The realization settled over Gray like a storm cloud. He had to do this if he wanted to save the deal. Sophie was the key to this whole damn thing. The Blackwells weren’t interested in the bottom line. They were vain, old-school fools who wanted to be flattered, pampered, and appreciated. They wanted someone to tell them that their property was special and important, regardless of its price tag.
He needed Sophie. And this dinner.
“Fine,” he said, dreading the impending painful evening. “If nobody minds, I’d like to include my brother, Jack. He’s expecting to see Jenna.”
“The more the merrier,” Sophie cooed.
Barf.
“I’ll call Jack,” Jenna said.
Gray closed his eyes briefly and counted to ten. He could do this. It would be hell, but somehow he was going to have to find a way to spend the evening with his estranged siblings and his two most difficult clients.
At least Sophie would be there.
Although for the life of him, he didn’t know if that would make the evening better or worse.
* * *
An hour later, Gray was drinking a lukewarm beer and watching his client hit on his sister, and his brother hit on his assistant.
He wasn’t sure what bothered him more: the way Alistair was staring at Jenna’s chest as she ran verbal circles around him, or the way Jack’s and Sophie’s heads were tilted together as they laughed over their beers.
“I had no idea that Seattle was a bowling town,” Peter said as he sipped his whiskey.
“I don’t know that it is,” Gray admitted. “But tourist options are limited on rainy days, and Sophie insists that this is a Seattle classic.”
Sophie’s head snapped around and she gave him a defensive glare. “What was I supposed to do, drag them through a soggy Pike Place Market? Maybe show them how much they can’t see in the fog from the top of the Space Needle?”
“Calm down,” Gray muttered. “Nobody’s attacking your bowling idea.”
“Are you having fun?” she asked him in a warning tone.
Fun? He should have been having fun. Everyone else was. But instead of joining in with the laughter and the flirtation, Gray had somehow ended up pairing off with the elderly Peter instead of chatting with his brother and sister. Instead of flirting with Sophie.
He felt like a decrepit old man watching the kids run around and have a good time.
“Yes, Ms. Dalton,” he replied. “I’m having fun. In fact, it was just this morning that I was thinking I haven’t been bowling in so long. Thanks for the opportunity.”
She narrowed her eyes, but Peter seemed to take Gray’s comment at face value, because he nodded agreeably.
“You’re up, champ,” Jack said, grabbing Sophie’s knee to get her attention.
Fantastic, they had nicknames now. Jack must have felt Gray’s gaze burning a hole in the back of his hand, because he removed it quickly from Sophie’s leg with a questioning eyebrow as if to say Yours?
Gray avoided his brother’s silent inquiry by staring at the scoreboard, where he was placing…fifth. Out of six. Even Alistair was beating him. Peter at least was a good deal behind him, but the man had arthritis, for God’s sake. Nobody expected Peter to do anything other than gently push the ball down the lane with two hands.
Surely Gray could do better than this. It wasn’t like he’d never bowled before. He could remember a couple of birthday parties as a kid. So it had only been, oh, about twenty years since his last game.
Meanwhile, the blonde demon in his life had just thrown yet another strike, which had her tied in first place with Jack. The two of them were now doing some sort of victory dance that involved lots of touching.
This was just great. At this rate, Gray’s next bowling experience would probably be at the birthday party of his nieces and nephews as they squealed about how this was the place where their parents first met.
The thought of mini-Sophies and -Jacks put him in an even worse mood, so instead he studied the other flirtatious couple. Alistair had abandoned Sophie almost immediately after discovering that she was the better bowler. Pudgy losers like Alistair didn’t like to be beat in anything, even something as ridiculous as bowling. Jenna was barely better than Gray, which made her fair game for the younger Blackwell’s attention.
As Gray watched Jenna lay a hand on Alistair’s arm, he wondered why she wasn’t ripping her lame suitor to shreds. His sister wasn’t exactly approachable, even to eligible men. There was no way she’d waste her time with this overweight lecher boy currently trying to correct her bowling form. And yet her usual venom wasn’t seeping from her pores. Interesting.
He took another swallow of beer and made a concentrated effort not to scowl at the whole lot of them. Peter excused himself to the restroom, and Sophie fluttered into the vacated seat, filling his senses with…cinnamon?
She smelled like a freaking bakery. He’d noticed the sweet and oddly alluring smell the other night when he’d cornered her in his dark office like a creepy predator.
“You’re scowling, boss.”
“You think?”
She sighed as though dealing with a difficult child. “Really, this is the best thing. Peter is smiling, and Alistair…well…Jenna knows what she’s doing, right? I mean her humoring him will work in your favor, but she can’t possibly be attracted, can she?”
“Jenna knows how to handle herself.” He hoped.
“I’m guessing that’s your Mr. Darcy way of implying that I can’t handle myself?”
“Who’s Mr. Darcy?” he asked, his frown deepening. “And why does he get to go by his last name, while you’ve been calling me Gray since the moment you met me?”
She sighed again, wearily. Clearly he’d disappointed her somehow. Again. “Never mind about Mr. Darcy. I take it you haven’t told your siblings about our little elevator misunderstanding?”
“Tell them what, exactly, that I thought my assistant turned tricks? No, I didn’t mention it. In case you haven’t noticed, we’re not exactly prone to chatting.”
“I noticed. But the tension is only because you’re sitting here in the corner like the freaking Grinch. They want to talk to you, but your body language is telling everyone to fuck off.”
“I am not having this conversation with you.”
“Why not? You owe me; I picked your sister up from the airport.”
“Which expressly disobeyed my orders! Town car! I said to get Jenna into a town car!” he exploded.
Several pairs of eyes landed on him. Even in the noisy bowling alley, his voice had carried. Jack gave him a reassuring smile, but Jenna just rolled her eyes in disgust. She abruptly pushed past a startled Alistair and stalked off to the bar.
Sophie looked at him with a censorious expression. “You really should go talk to your sister. Now she thinks that you just wanted to put her into an impersonal Lincoln.”
“That’s exactly what I intended. Then we wouldn’t be in this dreadful bowling alley,” he mumbled.
She poked him in the side. “Go. This is your sister.”
He glanced over his shoulder and saw Jenna flirting with the tattooed bartender. Knowing her, she’d go home with the man just to irk him, end up with hepatitis C, and blame Gray for the whole thing.
Avoiding Sophie’s eyes, he got to his feet to go talk with Jenna.
“Wait, you can’t go now.” She tugged at his pant leg. “It’s your turn!”
He smoothed away the wrinkle she’d made in his trousers and glanced up at the scoreboard. Sure enough, there was his name blinking next to the string of small, single digits. “You play for me,” he told Sophie.
She snorted. “And ruin your stellar average? I don’t think so.”
“Just toss it into those divots that run down the side of the path.”
“Those would be the gutters, bro,” Jack said. “And by ‘path,’ I’m guessing you meant lane?”
“Whatever,” Gray said. “Would someone just play for me?”
“I’ll take care of this,” Alistair said smugly.
“That’s wonderful,” Gray said. “Just great.”
He hesitated for a moment, the smell of fresh cinnamon buns wafting up to him and filling him with an odd sense of longing. Or was it nostalgia? Unable to resist, and propelled by a rare sense of impulsiveness, he bent down until his lips nearly touched Sophie’s ear.
“Why do you smell like Christmas morning?”
He felt the hitch in her breath, and felt a little unhinged himself by the closeness. Jerking back, he avoided her eyes and headed toward the bar.
“What were you expecting, harlot perfume?” she called after him.
Hiding a smile, Gray slid onto the bar stool next to Jenna. She didn’t acknowledge his presence. He debated his options. Jenna and Gray tended to communicate mostly in sarcasm. Jack was the only Wyatt to ever learn the art of friendly conversation. But he could feel Sophie’s eyes boring into his back and knew she wouldn’t be a fan of anything less than he and Jenna singing “Kumbaya” by the end of the conversation.
“I’m sorry I didn’t pick you up at the airport,” he said quietly, gesturing to the bartender for another beer.
Her body stiffened slightly, and he knew she was debating whether to accept the olive branch or rake him over the coals. He was betting the coals. It was easier than dabbling in emotion.
But she surprised him.
“It’s okay,” she said finally. “I know you’re busy trying to save the world one precious hotel at a time.”
Gray bit his tongue to keep from snapping that it had been his precious hotels that had put her and Jack through law school and enabled the purchase of the designer purses he bought her every year on her birthday.
“Yeah, well, this is one hotel that I won’t be able to add to my collection,” he said bitterly, nodding back toward the Blackwells.
“Oh, I don’t know about that.” Jenna snuck a cherry from the garnish tray and winked at the bartender. “I suspect that perv and his old man might be warming up to the idea of selling to you,” she said.
He set the bottle to his lips and shook his head. “I don’t think so. I’ve tried every angle, and they just won’t bite.”
“Not every angle.”
He raised an eyebrow.
She gestured toward her chest. “You lack these. The only numbers men like the Blackwells deal in is cup size.”
Gray choked on his beer. “Aside from the fact that I absolutely do not want to be hearing about my little sister’s breasts, is that why you’ve been letting that buffoon dry hump you out there? To help my company?”
She shrugged, looking unsure of herself. “It seemed the least I could do. Sophie mentioned that you were in the middle of a tough deal, and when she orchestrated this entire charade, I thought maybe I could lend a hand. Or a boob.”
Gray’s head spun, both with the idea that the deal could be saved and that his sister had actually gone out on a limb for him. The only thing that didn’t surprise him about this conversation was Sophie’s interference.
“So you’re doing this because my pesky little assistant ambushed you in the airport? How did she even find you?”
Jenna smiled and snagged another cherry. “She was standing there at baggage claim holding a sign with my name on it. You know, kind of like a town car driver would have done?” She shot him a side look.
“At least a town car driver could have delivered you to my condo or wherever you wanted to go. Sophie’s meddling got you trapped into bowling.”
“Well, actually,” she said, spinning around on her bar stool to look at their group, “it’s been oddly fun. Sophie’s great.”
Gray grunted.
“Are you two…you know…?” Jenna wiggled her eyebrows.
He sputtered on his beer. “She’s my assistant, Jen. That would be…No. She’s an employee.”
“So? Does your company have a policy about coworkers dating?”
“What? I don’t know.” He did know. They didn’t have a policy.
She kept pressing. “How about subordinates dating bosses? Is that off-limits?”
“Who cares? Why are you bringing this up?”
She smiled her cat smile at him, and got to her feet. “Call it feminine intuition.”
“Or I could call it…delusion. And have you not noticed how much she resembles a certain almost-sister-in-law of yours?”
Jenna gave him a disgusted look. “I told you from day one to stay away from that one. And sure, they look a little alike, but it took me all of five minutes to see that Sophie is nothing like Jessica. Not in the way that matters.”
Gray’s stomach knotted as he considered Jenna’s words. If business had taught him anything, it was that tingling sense you got in your hands when you knew you’d made a mistake.
He flexed his fingers. Yup. Definitely tingling.
“How are things in New York?” he asked, annoyed to realize that his voice sounded gruff.
Jenna’s smirk showed she was on to him, but she’d apparently finally done some maturing because she let it go instead of pushing his buttons like she would have a year ago.
“You know, New York is pretty great. It feels like this one might stick.”
Gray had his doubts. Jenna thought every city would stick, but she rarely lasted more than a year. Still, if she could let things go, so could he, so he just nodded.
“Boyfriend?” he asked casually.
His sister gave him a look. “If I tell, are you gonna arrange for a background check?”
Gray winced. She knew about that?
“No,” he lied.
Jenna stood and dragged him to his feet. “No big-brother prying tonight. My life isn’t the one in deep crap right now. Come on, let’s go land you a hotel deal. And maybe improve your bowling skills. You’re embarrassing the Wyatt name.”
He followed her back to the group and tried to avoid looking at Sophie. She’d either give him a smug I told you so look, or she’d be grinning at him like a proud mother. But as usual, he lost the battle, and couldn’t seem to help glancing at her. What he saw was neither gloating nor pride. She looked almost…affectionate.
Which might have lifted his mood if Jack’s arm hadn’t been around the back of her chair.
Maybe it didn’t even matter if he’d been wrong about Sophie. Even if she lacked Jessica’s more manipulative qualities, they had one very important detail in common.
Neither one wanted him.
“Gray, my man,” Peter said in a whiskey-soaked boom. “Let’s get over here and discuss what you did in that fancy Chicago-based company of yours. Sophie and Jack tell me that a couple years ago you were responsible for turning around that set of fancy resorts on Barbados? Hell, those are five-star celebrity destinations now! I had no idea you had that kind of experience.”
Gray shot a glance at his brother and Sophie, who sent matching winks his way.
He couldn’t hide his victorious smile. Finally he was back in his element. He might suck at apologies, gratitude, and chitchat, but this? This he could do.
By the time the group was sitting at a long bench table at a nearby pizza parlor, Gray was feeling the best he’d felt in weeks. The Blackwells had just left to return to their hotel, but they were going to sign. He knew it. His business instincts were buzzing with victory, and they were never wrong.
He wondered if he should thank Sophie. It never would have happened without her interference. If it was up to him, the meeting would never have left the conference room and would have ended hours ago. Probably with the deal dead in the water.
“So, Sophie,” Jenna was saying as she wound a piece of mozzarella around her finger. “You seeing anyone?”
All eyes fell on Sophie, and Gray was annoyed to realize that he wasn’t the only one who seemed extremely interested in her response. Jack had gone completely still and was watching her carefully.
“Um, no. Not really,” Sophie said.
Gray squinted. Was she blushing? The Sophie he knew didn’t blush, but there was a distinct pink tint to her cheeks. He wondered what caused it. Or who. Not Alistair, certainly. Jack? The two of them had been inseparable most of the evening.
A fact that depressed him more than he wanted to admit.
“I can’t believe that,” Jenna was saying. “You’re so sweet and pretty.”
Gray’s eyes narrowed in on his sister. He knew that tone. It was the same one she’d used when she’d brought three puppies home without warning. The same one she’d used when she’d wanted to borrow his car without her driver’s license. That tone meant trouble.
“What about my brother?” Jenna asked, her gray eyes all innocent curiosity.
Gray and Jack exchanged a wary glance. Both knew they should shut up their sister. But both wanted Sophie’s answer first.
“Oh, um, you mean Jack?” Sophie asked, her voice coming out on a squeak.
Gray felt a funny twist somewhere in the middle of his chest. He should have been prepared for it. Of course she’d assume that Jenna had meant Jack. Who would think of dowdy, grumpy Gray when they could have the funny, charming version?
“Ugh, not Jackie,” Jenna said with a face. “He’s still reeling from Avery.”
“Don’t,” Jack said, his voice uncharacteristically curt.
“Uh-huh—so you never see each other?” Jenna pressed.
“We’re…friends,” Jack said with narrowed eyes.
Sophie nibbled at a breadstick and watched them curiously.
“Anyway,” Jenna said, waving away her brothers’ glares. “Jack’s no good for you, Soph. I was talking about Gray.”
He froze with his beer halfway to his lips and wondered if it would be inappropriate to drag Jenna out to the parking lot by her hair and put her in a cab. He wanted to look at Sophie, but didn’t think he could bear to see what kind of amused disdain would be written all over her face.
“Gray’s my boss,” she said quietly.
A good, safe answer. A disappointing answer.
“Oh, sure, but if he weren’t, you’d go for it, right? He’s cute,” Jenna said. She leaned over to pinch his cheek, and Gray batted her hand away with a warning look. Which she ignored.
“I’m pretty sure I’m the last woman on earth your brother would be interested in.”
Gray’s eyes flew to Sophie. An interesting choice of words. Was she saying that she would be interested if she thought he was? He silently begged her to meet his eyes so he could read her expression, but she didn’t look away from Jenna.
“Huh,” Jenna said, apparently realizing that she’d pushed the conversation as far as it could go.
Gray’s shoulders had just started to relax when his sister piped up again. “Hey, Soph, you should join us for dinner on Friday.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. This was too much. He could barely handle Sophie nine-to-five during the weekdays. If he had to start seeing her on weekend evenings, he’d lose his mind.
“Oh, I couldn’t interrupt family time,” Sophie said.
“Please, you’ve seen this ‘family.’ We’re hardly the Brady Bunch. An outsider helps smooth the waters. Plus I need another girl to keep me company while the two of them argue about baseball.”
“She’s right, it’ll be fun. And Gray’s a fantastic cook,” Jack said, giving Sophie a soft elbow in the side.
Gray choked. “Who said I was cooking?”
Jack shrugged. “You’re good at it. And we all know Jenna isn’t civilized enough for any decent restaurant.”
“Hilarious, Jack,” Jenna purred. “Sophie, did you know we had a comedian in the family? But Jack’s right. Dinner at Gray’s sounds great.”
“Of course it does,” Gray muttered. “All you have to do is show up and drink my wine.”
“Exactly. So, Sophie, you in?”
Gray spared his assistant the briefest of glances. “I’m sure she has other plans on a Friday night.”
Sophie’s blue eyes locked on his. “Actually I don’t. And dinner sounds great. I’d love to come.”
Shit.