Leave the ball in his court.
It wasn’t her usual course of action. She liked to be in control. But this way, Sophie couldn’t be accused of being a quitter. More than likely he was already thinking of ways to get rid of her. And then he could be the jerk, and she could be the poor fired victim.
Mind made up, Sophie took her sweet time reapplying her lipstick. Not because she wanted to look her best, of course. At least, not just that. Mostly it was because the thought of making Grayson Wyatt wait on her was rapidly improving her mood. She added a dab of shiny gloss to her lower lip to make it look fuller. Then she checked her mascara and blush.
Primping complete, Sophie strolled over to his office, taking care to let her hips sway just a bit. If this was going to be her last day on the new job, she at least wanted to get the most out of her brand-new outfit. Gray definitely seemed like the type who would prefer everyone to knock and await permission. So she barged in.
And blanched.
The office was horrible.
She didn’t know how she’d missed it the first time she’d come in. Probably because she’d been too busy trying to avoid her new boss’s death ray gaze. But she was getting a good look at it now. It was creepy. Even for Gray.
“Whooooo-eee!” she turned in a full circle. “I love what you’ve done with the place. Did you decapitate all these animals yourself? I’d ask if they were dead first, but I know better. Destroying creatures you deem beneath you is a hobby of yours, am I right?”
He looked up from his files, and the eyes that met hers betrayed nothing. Not even annoyance.
“They’re not mine,” he replied curtly. “The former CEO left the, um, decorations when he retired,” he said finally. “I’d prefer something less cluttered.”
“Wow, you liking no clutter? That’s a shocker.”
She was oddly relieved that the hunting paraphernalia wasn’t his. Sophie was a bit of an animal lover and certainly didn’t need one more reason to dislike him.
She settled uninvited into the chair across from him. “So, what’s up, boss?”
Silence. Sophie waited impatiently while he finished whatever it was that he was reading. She accidentally-on-purpose let the toe of her supercute new shoe bump against his desk.
Thump. Thump. ThumpThumpThump. THUMP.
Finally he finished his reading and set it aside. She was pretty sure he’d just been staring at a blank piece of paper in order to make her wait on him, but considering she’d taken five minutes to put on lipstick for that same purpose, she didn’t judge.
“First things first, Ms. Dalton—”
“Stop with that. Call me Sophie.”
Gray paused. Blinked at her. Considered. “No, I don’t think so.”
She couldn’t resist an eye roll.
“As I was saying, Ms. Dalton, there are a couple things I want to address before we discuss your long-term, routine responsibilities as executive assistant to the president.”
“Oh, is that your title? I didn’t see it plastered all over your fifty different nameplates.”
His poker face didn’t budge. “I understand that this job is a new…career direction for you. Care to explain why?”
Sophie’s carefree attitude evaporated. He was poking in areas that nobody had access to. “I don’t really see how my motivations are relevant.”
Just fire me so we can get this over with.
He pressed on. “So you’re telling me that quitting your waitressing job the very day after you got back from Las Vegas—”
“How did you know that?”
As if she needed to ask. Obviously Brynn had given him the details. Reason number eight hundred and fifty-four why it was a bad idea to work for someone who dated your only sibling.
Gray proceeded as though she hadn’t interrupted. “You quit a waitressing job just days after I assumed that you were a prostitute. Are the two incidents related?”
“Maybe I just got tired of the lousy tips.”
“So then you’d find a more upscale restaurant, you wouldn’t just wiggle your way into the corporate world!”
Sophie sneered. “Says the man born in a white collar.”
Gray leaned forward slightly. “I’ve met your parents, Sophie. I’ve seen the house you grew up in. Still want to talk to me about white-collar?”
She flushed. Whoops.
“Point taken,” she grated out. “And since you’re the one who brought up my family, aren’t we going to talk about the fact that it’s weird that you’re dating my sister?”
“I thought we established the awkwardness of that connection in your parents’ powder room.”
Sophie shifted uncomfortably, remembering exactly how charged that particular confrontation had been. “Well, then you shouldn’t have given me a job,” she muttered.