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“Holy crap,” Sophie said as she took in the treelined drive of Ian’s house. “Is it a requirement that all of your friends be fellow CEOs or pirates?”

Gray gave her a sidelong glance before parking next to an enormous fountain. Yes, an honest-to-God fountain. At someone’s house. Sophie was suddenly relieved that she’d had the foresight to be waiting on her front porch when Gray had picked her up. No way was he going to see the inside of her studio apartment now. His best friend probably had showers bigger than her entire home.

“Ian’s an attorney,” Gray said as they climbed out of his car. “He owns his own practice.”

“Jeez, no wonder my parents didn’t want me to drop out of law school. Do these people have their own stable? A carriage house?”

Sophie didn’t know much about real estate, but Ian’s address alone screamed “money.” Medina was one of Seattle’s richest suburbs, with many of its homes located near the water. It was minutes from downtown, and yet far enough away to have a view of downtown.

In other words, rich-people heaven.

Not her scene.

“Quit being a snob,” Gray said, as he led her along the walkway toward the front porch.

“I’m not,” Sophie said, trying not to squirm when he briefly set his hand on the small of her back. She wished she better understood what this was. A dinner party at his college friend’s could hardly be considered a date. But he’d invited her. Not Bryn

n, not some perfect potential girlfriend.

That had to mean something. Damned if she knew what. He’d barely spoken to her on the ride over. An open book he was not.

“I’m not a snob,” she said again, resisting the urge to see if the perfect hedges were fake. “It’s just intimidating, you know?”

“You weren’t intimidated at my place.”

“Well, sure, but your place, while nice, is hardly on par with this,” she said, gesturing to the enormous grounds and slice of waterfront view poking around the right side of the enormous white house. “No offense.”

“I don’t have need for all this space,” Gray said distractedly. “Not for one person.”

Sophie paused and stared at the back of his gray polo shirt. “Are you telling me you could afford this? If you wanted to?”

Gray glanced back and gave her an exasperated look. “What is with you? I’ve seen your parents’ house. It’s nearly as big as this. I’m guessing you hardly grew up on food stamps.”

“That’s my parents’ money,” she said defensively. “I’m not sure if you’re aware, but cocktail waitresses can’t exactly afford Bentleys. And it’s not like Brayburn’s paying me all that much. Perhaps we should discuss a raise.”

Gray grabbed her hand and pulled her none too gently up the brick steps to their front door. “Just behave. Please.” He gave the door an impatient knock.

Sophie ran a finger over the door frame. “White. How is this possible? How can they have a perfectly white front door without a single scuff or speck of dirt?”

The pristine white door in question swung open, and Sophie’s first thought was that Gray was right. She had been a prejudging, stereotyping snob.

Ashley Porter was wearing cuffed jean capris, a plain white T-shirt, and those boat shoes that Sophie thought only people in the Hamptons wore. But the shoes were well worn, and the T-shirt had some sort of red stain near the hem. Hardly the immaculately groomed housewife that Sophie had been fearing.

The woman herself was beautiful in a completely unintimidating sort of way, her dark brown hair worn in a short pixie cut that only woman with perfect features could pull off. She had clever, friendly brown eyes and a wide mouth completely devoid of lipstick.

“Took you guys long enough,” she said as she ushered them in. “We were wondering how long you were going to stand in our driveway arguing.”

Sophie blushed, but the other woman’s voice held no accusation.

Ian wandered into the foyer with a beer in hand and gave Sophie a friendly hug as though they were old friends instead of total strangers. “Good to see you, Sophie. I see you’ve met Ash, my nagging shrew of a wife.”

Ashley shook Sophie’s hand before giving Gray an enormous hug, looking a bit like a friendly fairy cuddling up to a grumpy bear. Then Sophie glanced at Gray’s face and almost stumbled. Not only was he enduring the hug, he was actually smiling. And the relaxed affection was unlike anything she’d seen on his face before. She felt a sudden liking for these people she barely knew for being people he could relax around.

“You have a beautiful home,” Sophie said as she followed them into the kitchen. The inside was even more stunning than the outside. Ashley’s decorating taste ran toward soothing neutrals, which perfectly accentuated the floor-to-ceiling windows and the stunning view of Lake Washington.

“Thanks,” Ashley said with genuine pride. “I wish I could say it’s always this clean, but the truth is I took advantage of Ryan’s slumber party today to get everything back in order. Gray mentioned we have a six-year-old son?”

Sophie nodded.


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