Oh, here we go. She sat back in her seat and grabbed for her wine. Sophie wasn’t exactly in the mood to hear yet another person begin a tirade about Brynn’s excellence, but she couldn’t cut off a guy who’d just been dumped. Or at least she was assuming Brynn had done the dumping. Her sister’s message hadn’t exactly been clear, and she doubted she’d get all the gritty details from Gray.
“Yes, Brynn’s wonderful,” she replied warily.
“We just didn’t suit.”
“‘Suit’?” she repeated. “You do realize that phrase went out of style back around the time of Prohibition?”
“You know what I mean,” he said as he stared into his wine. “Everything worked on paper, but in person, nothing clicked.”
That’s because you two are the same uptight, overachieving, perfectionist freak. Suddenly her good intentions began to evaporate. The thought of Brynn and Gray in all of their sophisticated and successful glory made her stomach churn.
“Are we having a bonding moment here, boss?” she asked snidely. “Shall I grab some tissues and ice cream to go with the pizza and wine?”
“Never mind,” he said gruffly.
“I’m sorry,” she said, feeling like crap. There was no need to take out her personal issues on the poor man. He shrugged and reached for the pizza box. He slid another piece onto her plate before getting one for himself.
So much for just having one, she thought as she dug in.
“So what’s real the story with you and Will? Is it like one of those on-again, off-again things?” he said, breaking the companionable silence.
“What’s with all the talking?” she teased gently.
Gray shrugged again, suddenly looking less like the powerful, disinterested boss and more like a shy new kid in town. “I don’t usually enjoy your variety of constant rambling—”
“Nice, Gray, just when I was starting to kind of like you.”
His eyes met hers and he continued. “But I don’t know anyone in Seattle, and you seem to be the only person I can talk to.”
Oh. Oh. And just like that, her irritation evaporated and was replaced by something downright melty. She pushed the uncomfortable sentiment aside. The last thing she needed was to start letting her guard down around her boss.
“I’ll grab those notebooks,” she said, almost knocking over her wine in her haste to stand.
“Sophie.”
“Yeah?”
“You never answered my question about you and Will.” His eyes burned into hers and she suddenly wished she’d had a couple fewer sips of wine. Or maybe a few more. Everything was fuzzy.
What was it he’d been asking?
Oh, right. Will. Best friend.
“Oh, Will and I are just friends. We’ve always been just friends,” she said with a wave of her hand.
“Then why did you tell me he was your date at your parents’ house?”
Sophie snorted. “Well, let’s see, I’d recently endured the humiliation of being stuck in an elevator with a man who assumed I was a whore, while wearing little more than a thong. And then the same man shows up at my parents’ house as my perfect sister’s perfect new boyfriend. So after that, did I want you to think I was single and lonely as well as pathetic and slutty? No, not really. So, I let you think I had a fake boyfriend. Sue me.”
Her voice pitched up at the end and she felt her cheeks flushing as she stared him down. Her attempt at cute and snarky had derailed into melodramatic and lame. She stood abruptly and walked quickly from his office, annoyed to feel the prick of tears as she gathered the notebooks from her desk.
Sophie took a deep breath. She needed to get out of there. She’d just hand over the notebooks and let him continue with his loser evening. Alone. She marched back into his office and nearly collided with his solid form. He put his hands on her shoulders to steady her, and she jumped back from the heat of the contact.
“Sorry,” Gray said quietly, flexing his fingers and putting them back to his sides, as though even the briefest of contact with her made him itch. He cleared his throat but didn’t move out of the way. “Look, I’m sorry for prying about Will. I was just curious what a woman like you would be doing with a guy like him.”
“You mean what would a rich entrepreneur want with a lowly secretary?”
“Stop it,” he said sharply, sounding very unlike his usual calm self. “Quit talking about yourself as if you’re toilet paper.”