“Sophie.”
Not a question. He’d called her intentionally.
“Gray,” she replied, relieved that her voice sounded calm. “I am not coming into the office on a Saturday, I don’t care how far behind you are on your plan of taking over the world.”
“That’s not why I’m calling.”
“Oh,” she said, flopping back on the bed. “Finally got up the courage to use my call-girl service, then, huh? I’ll have you know, I’m not cheap—”
“Would you like to come to a dinner party tonight?”
All of Sophie’s snark flew out the window and she sat up in confusion. “You mean like a date?”
He cleared his throat nervously. “Well, I mean, there’d be other people there. My friend Ian and his wife. Maybe their son, although I think he might be off at a birthday party or something.”
Sophie stared at the generic flower print hanging above her dresser in disbelief. “You want me to come with you to your friend’s house? For dinner?”
“That’s what a dinner party usually means.”
She pulled the phone away from her ear and frowned at it briefly. “This is sort of out of nowhere for someone who had his tongue down my throat and then didn’t talk to me for two weeks.”
“You didn’t talk to me either, Sophie. And don’t think I don’t know you swapped my coffee for decaf and pulled all the cheese off my sandwich before giving it to me. Very mature.”
Yeah…not her best moves. She’d been desperate to provoke him.
“All right, I’ll go,” she said simply.
“You will? You don’t have plans?”
“No,” she said on a sigh. “I was supposed to have a date tonight, but he got sick.”
“You were going on a date?”
There was something low and menacing in his voice, and Sophie couldn’t hide a smile. Maybe the man wasn’t so indifferent after all. “Yes, Grayson. A date. But he has consumption, so I’m free now.”
“What?”
“Never mind. What time?”
“Is an hour too soon for me to pick you up?”
“Gee, I’m glad I wasn’t a last resort or anything.”
He was silent for several seconds. “It took me this long to work up the courage.”
“Oh.” The admission melted her annoyance slightly. Okay, it melted it completely. She was practically mush. “I can be ready in an hour.”
“Great,” he said, not bothering to hide the relief in his voice. “Bring a sweater or something. Ashley is insisting we sit outside even though it’s barely sixty degrees out.”
“Honey, in Seattle, this is practically beach weather,” Sophie said, pulling out a pair of blue capris, a white tank, and a yellow cardigan she’d stolen from Brynn. “Now go away. I need some time to don my hooker gear.”
“Don’t forget the boots,” he said before hanging up in her ear.
Sophie did a ridiculous little happy dance when she hung up the phone, before taking a deep breath and telling herself to pull it together. It was just a dinner party. With chaperones. Not a marriage proposal.
But it was the first time that Gray had been the one to initiate spending time together. And for a man whose emotions needed a wheelchair, that had to mean something.
* * *