He knew better than to be reeled in. Jessica had pulled a similar stunt by bringing him homemade chicken soup when he was sick, and look how that had turned out. He’d gotten soup, and his partner had gotten into his fiancé’s pants. Oddly, what bugged him most in hindsight was that the blasted soup had tasted like it had come from a can. Homemade, my ass.
Maybe he should call Brynn again. Perhaps he’d been too hasty in ending their relationship before giving it a chance. She was everything he was looking for. Successful, lovely, calm…
No. He was bored just thinking about it. Plus it would mean enduring more Dalton family dinners, and no woman was worth that.
Still…he needed a girlfriend. Someone to talk to. Ian was great, but weekly sessions at the gym with another dude weren’t the same as lingering dinners with a woman.
But finding the right woman had proven a hell of a lot more difficult than any business venture he’d undertaken. He’d given up on dating in Chicago after Jessica, and the Seattle dating pool hadn’t been much better. He wasn’t even sure what he was looking for anymore.
Gray did, however, know what he wasn’t looking for. He didn’t want someone too cheerful and talkative. And maybe it was time to try a brunette this time—someone serious and focused. Someone who wouldn’t wear a miniskirt to a business function just to piss him off.
His eyes unwillingly fell on his assistant. Someone not like Sophie.
*
“Where’s that cute little Sally?” Alistair Blackwell asked around a mouthful of his third salami panini.
Gray clenched his teeth. The thought of this creep lusting over his assistant was not improving his mood. It was becoming rapidly apparent than Alistair’s only purpose in joining them for the day was free food and getting into Sophie’s pants.
“I believe Ms. Dalton is on her lunch break,” Gray replied coolly.
Actually, Gray had no idea where Sophie was. He hadn’t seen her since he’d requested she call a town car, but he assumed she was off eating a fancy overpriced salad at one of the nearby restaurants with the other office women. He hated to admit it, but he almost wished she were here to work her nauseating female magic on the Blackwells.
As if Sophie had read his thoughts, he heard the sound of familiar female laughter. Finally she was back from her froufrou girly lunch. Really, she couldn’t have waited to do an extended lunch on a day when his personal and professional life weren’t in mayday status?
Slowly his mind registered that he was hearing the laughter of two women. Both sounded familiar.
His spine stiffened in realization. Oh God.
Alistair, completely oblivious to the turmoil running through Gray’s mind, seemed delighted to see not one, but two females approaching through the glass partition.
“Well, well, your pretty Sally has a pretty friend,” he said, all but licking his lips.
“My assistant’s name is Sophie,” Gray ground out. “And that pretty friend you’re ogling is my little sister.”
He didn’t have to turn around to know it was Jenna. The low, cynical chuckle and the raspy jazz-diva voice were all too familiar. Gray had spent the past decade trying to keep the twins away from his professional life, and Sophie had managed to undo years of careful maneuvering in one afternoon.
“Sophie!” Alistair was booming, heading toward the door of the conference room. “I was wondering when we’d get to see your pretty face.”
“Mr. Blackwell,” Sophie cooed. “It’s so lovely to see you again. Allow me to introduce Mr. Wyatt’s sister. This is Jenna, visiting us all the way from New York. I just picked her up at the airport.”
Sophie shot Gray a triumphant look, and as much as he wanted to drag his assistant into his office by her hair, it was hardly the time to address her misunderstanding of the words “town car.”
Gray settled for sending her a glare. We’ll talk later.
She smiled back at him. You’re welcome.
“Gray, aren’t you going to say hello to your sister?”
He jolted guiltily. He’d been so busy glaring at Sophie that he’d forgotten all about greeting Jenna. His sister looked beautifully dangerous, as always. Dressed in tight black pants and some sort of knit top, she looked every bit the New Yorker she’d been for all of the past three months.
Before that, she’d been a Southern belle. Before that, a cowgirl.
Dark hair fell in thick waves around Jenna’s shoulders, and one perfectly groomed brow arched above a gray eye not unlike his own.
“Hello, brother dearest. It was so thoughtful of you to send your assistant since you couldn’t make it in person. I’d have thought you’d have just sent a town car, but this was a nice personal touch.”
Gray smiled thinly.
“You’re quite the assistant, Ms. Dalton,” Peter was saying to Sophie as Gray awkwardly hugged his sister. “You fetch lunch, answer phones, and pick up your boss’s sister from the airport…”
“What other services do you offer, Soph?” Alistair said with a grin, his eyes fixated on Sophie’s breasts.
And that was quite enough of that. Gray stepped forward between Sophie and the Blackwells.