“I thought I said ‘coffee,’” he muttered. The tray was overflowing with croissants, mini quiches, doughnuts, bagels, and a large pile of fruit.
She balanced the tray on the corner of Gray’s desk and ignored him completely, saving all her smiles for the Blackwells. “How would you like your coffee, gentlemen?” she asked. “Mr. Wyatt here takes his black, but I’ve brought cream and sugar, as well as a variety of flavored sweeteners.”
Sophie shoved a mug in Gray’s direction without looking at him, and he nearly smiled. She’d added cream.
“Just a pinch of sugar and a splash of regular old cream for me, dear,” Peter was saying, suddenly taking on the persona of a kindly grandfather. This gentle old man sounded absolutely nothing like the stubborn hard-ass Gray had been dealing with five minutes prior.
“How do you like your coffee?” Alistair asked Sophie while unsubtly fingering his greasy comb-over.
She likes it with sugar. Lots of it, Gray thought.
“Mr. Blackwell, surely a confident man like you doesn’t need someone like me to determine your coffee preparation.”
Gray thought he heard traces of disdainful sarcasm in Sophie’s tone, but Alistair ate up the compliment. “I’ll try that hazelnut-flavored creamer there; I like things sweet.”
Smiling serenely, Sophie prepared the coffee and handed it over to Alistair, their fingers brushing. Sophie flushed, and Alistair all but licked his lips.
“Sophie, how’s your boyfriend?” Gray snapped abruptly. Cue the awkward moment of silence. A Grayson Wyatt specialty.
What the hell am I doing? Gray thought. He never blurted, he didn’t call his assistants by their first name, and he certainly didn’t ask about their personal lives.
She looked startled, but recovered quickly. “Oh, you mean Will? He’s just a childhood friend who still hangs around. We’re not together.”
He stared hard at her. That was certainly not the impression she’d given him that night at her parents’ house. She’d called Will her date. He should have figured she wouldn’t stick with anyone long term. Will was probably just another of her playthings.
In an effort to break the awkward tension, Sophie glanced at the Blackwells and rolled her eyes. “In case you can’t tell, Mr. Wyatt’s a little overprotective of his employees. It’s one of the reasons we all love working for him so much.”
Gray cleared his throat in warning, but the other men seemed oblivious to her sarcasm.
“I could tell that straightaway about your boss here,” said Peter. “His dedication to his people and his company is one of the main reasons I’m considering Brayburn Luxuries to acquire my company.”
“How interesting, what kind of company?” Sophie asked, settling herself on the corner of Gray’s desk like they were discussing favorite movies. Her hip was inches from Gray’s hand, which he snatched back so quickly he nearly knocked over his coffee cup.
Get a grip, Grayson.
“Oh, just a little set of Hawaiian resorts I started a few years back,” Peter was saying. “I’m getting too old to deal with all the maintenance and taxes. I’d hoped Alistair here would be taking over, but he’s focused on his own career goals.”
Like what, selling hemp bracelets on the beach? Gray wondered.
“I love Hawaii,” Sophie gushed. “What island?”
“Just the prettiest little strip of Maui you’ve ever seen.”
“It must be so hard to part with it,” Sophie said to Peter, laying a hand on his arm.
The move should have seemed calculating and phony, but Gray had to give her credit: She was good. She made it seem genuine.
Peter blushed. “Oh, it’s just business, I guess. The important thing in life is family,” he said with an adoring look at his insipid son.
“Well, you couldn’t choose better hands to leave your business in,” Sophie said as she began assembling plates of food. “I haven’t had the pleasure of working with Mr. Wyatt for very long, but he has the best reputation and is so smart with money.”
Gray stifled the hollow stab of disappointment. He had a fleeting wish that she’d compliment his person. Not his accomplishments or his brains or his résumé. Just him. Just Gray. When was the last time anyone had looked beyond the suit?
And why did he even care?
Lost in thought, Gray barely noticed that Sophie was neatly concluding his meeting for him. In the span of fifteen minutes, she had sweetly trapped Peter into a second meeting next month to further discuss the offer.
She’d been equally adept at evading a dinner date with Alistair, which Gray was grateful for. The last thing he needed was his assistant dating his star client. Even if this particular client had as much use as a third nipple.