Only with You (8 page)

Sophie considered. One week. She could do that. Probably.

People separated the personal and professional all the time, and half of her friends hated
their
bosses. Maybe her situation wasn’t so different after all.

And the sad truth was, she
needed
this job. It was either this or ask her parents for a loan. Her stomach turned at the thought.

“Okay,” she snapped, before she could change her mind. “It’s a deal.”

She expected him to respond with smugness. After all, she had just agreed to
his
terms. With no arguing. Everything she knew about him so far said he should be gloating.

Instead he looked…panicked.

But about what?

Once again, the flicker of humanity she thought she saw disappeared from his face in an instant.

“Fine,” he said with a dismissive wave. “We’ll reassess the situation next Friday.”

She nodded in agreement. “And in the meantime? Anything you want me to do besides answer the phone and follow your bidding?”

His silver eyes seemed to burn hot before he shifted his gaze to the wall behind her. “How do you feel about decorating?”

Sophie shrugged. “Amenable.”
I hope you like pink.

“Amenable,” he repeated. “That must be a first for you.”

He waved his hand in the general direction of the dead animal gallery. “Get rid of all this. Donate it, sell it, keep it, ship it back to Martin Brayburn. I don’t care what you do with it so long as you get it out. Once that’s complete, we’ll discuss what I want to replace it with. If anything.”

“Should I be writing this down?” she asked sweetly.

“If you think you need to.”

Sophie rolled her eyes. “Anything else? Boss?”

“Mr. Wyatt,” he corrected.

“Whatever.” She was already heading to the door.

“Sophie,” he called, just as she was about to walk out.

She felt a weird jolt at hearing him say her first name. She ignored said jolt. “Yeah?”

“Do you think we’ll be able to survive a week of…this?”

She didn’t have to ask what he meant by “this.” But of course neither one of them would put a name to it and say it out loud.

Not with their history. Not with their work relationship. Not with her sister.

“I don’t know, Mr. Wyatt,” she responded. “But it will be fun to find out.”

I
don’t think Bambi would appreciate how much trouble you’re giving me,” Sophie muttered at the deer head that was staying stubbornly mounted to Gray’s office wall. “Oh God.
You’re
not Bambi, are you?”

The thought made her shiver, which in turn made her teeter on the ladder.

“Pull it together, Sophie,” she commanded once she’d regained her balance.

She pushed Bambi out of her mind and tried to force herself to think of the hunting trophy as a
thing
.

Davie the Deer was the last to go, and was proving far more stubborn than Elvis the Elk, Morrie the Moose, and Benny the Bear.

Not that she’d gotten attached to the poor guys while she’d been taking them down or anything.

“Come on, Davie,” she said, easing her hands around to where the plaque met the wall. “Work with me here. This looked so easy when Jeff did it.”

Jeff Andrews was Brayburn’s vice president of sales and had become one of her first friends at the company ever since he’d rescued her Red Vines from the vending machine on her first day. He’d offered to help her out, and she’d happily taken him up on it.

But after handily pulling down most of the heads, Jeff had deserted her. Something about couples’ therapy with the wife. He’d seemed more excited about the dead animals.

“Focus, Sophie.” She had to get the damn wall cleared before
he
returned from his dentist’s appointment.

Today was it. The end of their one-week trial. Sophie couldn’t afford to fail at the one task Gray had asked of her. As in, she
literally
could not afford it. Not after the whopping credit card bill she’d opened this morning. Unemployment was not an option. Even if the alternative was being employed by the devil.

Sophie took a deep breath and tugged again at the deer. Nothing. Kicking off her shoes, she let them drop to the floor and tried once more. She felt two nails break, and the obstinate deer head stayed exactly where it was.

She pulled back to glare at Davie for several moments. “I hate you,” she whispered. “You’re going to get me fired.”

Feeling frazzled and desperate, Sophie grabbed at Davie’s nose and pulled as hard as she could.

Davie stayed.

Sophie did not.

She let out a high-pitched squeal as she reeled backward on the ladder. Her last thought was that it was all Davie’s fault as she started a graceless tumble.

Straight into Grayson Wyatt’s arms.

She heard his grunt as she fell into him, her back slamming into his chest. The impact was hard enough to jar her teeth, but it was a heck of a lot better than breaking her neck on the office floor.

His arms shouldn’t have felt familiar. Shit,
why
did they feel familiar?

Probably just reliving that initial moment of terror in Las Vegas
, Sophie told herself, remembering the way she’d thrown herself at him then. Still, the sheer rightness of his embrace felt out of place, considering the wrongness of the moment. But she didn’t move.

Neither did he.

Sophie felt his heart hammering again against her back. Her own stupid heart was beating a bit too fast, although she wasn’t sure if it was from the near-death experience or her proximity to a very nice-smelling male.

One strong arm was wrapped around her waist, and the other banded protectively over her chest. Her toes weren’t even touching the ground, but from some deep, abandoned part of her soul, she realized she hadn’t felt this
safe
in as long as she could remember.

Her soul was apparently a fool. There was nothing
safe
about this man.

The fingers near her waist moved upward ever so slightly, and Sophie’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment before she realized that he was merely adjusting his grip.

“You okay?” His breath was hot against her ear, and she couldn’t seem to force any words out. She nodded and shifted slightly under his grasp, trying not to be too aware of the firm male body pressed against hers.

His fingers tightened again at her movements, and this time it was Gray who hissed out a breath. He set her down roughly and yanked his arms back as though she’d burned him.

She felt a flash of regret that the moment was over, but she steeled herself and turned around to face him, ready to deal with the lecture she instinctively knew was coming.

He didn’t yell. Of course he didn’t. But his eyes were screaming murder.

“What the hell were you doing?” His voice was as hard as she’d ever heard it, and she couldn’t resist taking the smallest step backward. The ladder blocked her escape.

“I, um…just doing as you asked. Getting rid of the animal heads.” She gestured toward the corner of his office where Jeff had set the remaining trophies.

His eyes never left her face.

“I see that. My question was why you were doing it by yourself. Do you have any idea how much those things weigh? Did you even
think
?”

Her embarrassment was starting to give way to indignation. “Don’t talk to me like I’m a child. I was merely following your instructions!”

Gray blanched. “
My
instructions? When I asked you to clear out my office safari I didn’t mean you had to do it yourself!”

“I didn’t,” she evaded. “Jeff helped me.”

His eyes narrowed at that. “Jeff who?”

He stared at her blankly.

“Jeff Andrews?” she prompted. “Your vice president of—”

“I know who Jeff Andrews is, Sophie. What I don’t understand is why one of my top-ranking executives is helping my secretary play with stuffed animals while I try to get my fucking teeth cleaned.”

“Hmm, that’s quite the potty mouth, Mr. Professional.” Sophie huffed. Although part of her was happy to hear the f-bomb. It made the man somewhat more human. “Look, I can see that you’re upset, and I can’t really blame you. I’d feel guilty too if I were in your shoes.”

“Guilty.” He folded his arms over his chest. “You think I feel guilty?”

She nodded and patted his arm condescendingly. “Of course you do. The only reason I was wrestling that big deer down by myself is because I was paranoid that I’d be fired if I didn’t! So really it’s your fault I almost broke my neck.”

“That’s absurd.”

“Is it? You gave me a one-week trial period of employment and then asked me to get rid of these stupid animals. It was either pull Davie down or get fired.”

As far as explanations went it was a bit dodgy, but Sophie opted to stand her ground and see where it went. She was finding it sort of enjoyable to see him all worked up.

“You named the dead—okay. Okay.” Gray closed his eyes as though praying for strength. “Ms. Dalton…”

“Sophie.”

“Ms. Dalton, first of all, the one-week trial was in no way contingent upon your ability to redecorate my office. And second of all, if you
did
assume the two were related, why in God’s name would you wait until the last possible moment on Friday afternoon to complete the task?”

Sophie waggled a finger at him. “Now,
that
I actually can explain. See, I
intended
to do it sooner, but it’s taken me this long to find Davie and crew a good home. I couldn’t just put them in the Dumpster, and none of the local donation centers accept…you know…dead animals. And Martin didn’t get back to me until this morning because he’s been in Europe, but good news! He’ll take his babies back!”

“I’m so relieved.”

“You don’t look relieved. You look annoyed.”

His jaw clenched. “Of course I’m annoyed! I came into my office expecting to catch up on filing and instead I find my assistant teetering idiotically on a ladder!”

“That would be upsetting to your delicate constitution,” she murmured.

“For someone who is so paranoid about getting fired, you’re certainly not taking care to get on my good side.”

Sophie bit her lip. He made a valid point.

Poking the beast with sarcasm wasn’t exactly the way to ensure long-term employment.

“Sorry,” she said halfheartedly. “I’ll try to be more biddable.”

“I doubt you know the meaning of the word,” he muttered as he turned and headed toward his desk.

She followed after him, deer mission abandoned. “Just out of curiosity, if the one-week employment trial wasn’t based on the décor update, what
was
it based on?”

His head snapped up, and something hot seemed to run over his features. “You know full well what I was trying to determine. Whether or not we could avoid
that
.” He nodded toward the ladder.

Sophie flushed slightly. Somehow she didn’t think he meant her falling so much as his
catching
her fall.

She hated that he made her feel disoriented. Her eyes narrowed. What was he after? He’d made it clear that even if he was attracted to her, he didn’t like her. Which meant only one thing…

The jerk was probably toying with her.

So she hit back.

“How’s Brynn?” she asked, keeping her voice casual and plopping into the chair across from his.

His hands stilled from rummaging in his drawers, and she could tell the question had caught him off guard.

“I don’t see how that’s relevant.”

Sophie took the high road and didn’t rub it in his face that it was
very
relevant, given that he’d held her for a good sixty seconds longer than necessary when he was supposed to be interested in her sister.

Still, his response was reassuring and confirmed what she’d gathered from her latest conversation with Brynn. Their chemistry level was currently dwindling into the negative numbers.

Whenever Sophie asked one about the other, it was as if she’d just reminded them about a forgotten to-do list item. If Brynn’s bored tone and Gray’s indifferent expression were any indication, that “relationship” was dead before it even left the ground.

Not that Sophie cared one way or the other.

“Are you and your sister not on speaking terms?”

Sophie blinked in confusion at his question. “What?”

“You asked how she was. Since she’s
your
sister, I must assume you two are estranged if you’re asking a near stranger about her well-being.”

His gaze was cool, and Sophie realized he’d seen right through her not-so-innocent question.

She made a big show of glancing at her watch. “Sooo, boss. It’s nearly five o’clock on a Friday and I’m sort of trying not to freak out about whether or not I have a job to come to on Monday morning. Did I pass your little test?”

Sophie tried to keep the desperation out of her voice. Before the deer-and-ladder incident, and before she’d lost her mind and gone out of her way to rile him, she thought the week had actually gone pretty well.

Other than apparently thinking she was “too chatty” with the clients, he hadn’t criticized her once.

He hadn’t exactly complimented her either. But then, even if he had an employee whom he
didn’t
loathe, he didn’t seem the type to throw out bits of encouragement like
Good job stapling!

Even though she
was
a pretty good stapler. Very precise.

Gray ignored her and pulled out a sheet of paper from a folder in his desk drawer. He alternated between reading the contents and looking over the top of the paper at her.

She struggled not to fidget. “What?” she finally snapped.

“You went to Stanford,” he said thoughtfully.

Sophie frowned. “I never told you that.”

“You double majored in biology and political science, with a minor in communications.”

“Are you reading my résumé?” she asked in disbelief. She leaned across the desk to make a grab for it, but he pulled it out of her reach.

“The communications focus, I can see. The opportunity to talk nonstop probably appealed to you. But tell me about the other two. Biology and political science?”

“I see no need for us to go through this little interview exercise…” Sophie crossed her arms over her chest, feeling ill at ease. She didn’t want to discuss anything personal with this man.

“Humor me,” he said in a bland voice.

Sophie reluctantly settled back in her chair, but remained tense. Nothing set her on edge as much as someone analyzing her résumé. One could dig through her panty drawer, her purse, her Internet browser history…

But not the résumé. It revealed too much.

The only good news about this little scenario was that she had plenty of practice with this routine. God knew she’d gone through it often enough with her parents, friends, Brynn, prospective employers…She could practically recite his next lines for him.

You have so much potential.

Is this job just a transition phase?

You’re squandering your talent and top-notch education.

“What do you want to know?” she asked, mentally preparing her usual pat answers.

“Biology and political science don’t exactly overlap in course loads. Did you have any career path in mind that would utilize both degrees?”

For a brief moment she considered setting aside her usual speech and telling him the truth. That the biology major had been for her dad, who’d assumed she’d go to med school. And the political science focus was for her mother, who’d long insisted on Sophie’s destiny to be a lawyer.

Her mother had been wrong, as evidenced by the one very big omission on her résumé: her one-and-a-half-year stint at Harvard Law.

But there was a reason that Sophie didn’t put her little law school dabbling on her résumé. People took a chance on those who’d just taken a little longer than average to make use of their college education. But
nobody
looked fondly on a quitter.

He was staring at her with unreadable cool eyes, and she changed her mind about telling him the truth. Grayson Wyatt didn’t exactly invite her to spill her guts. Instead, Sophie launched into her usual rambling evasions. Better to sound like a ditz than a failure.

“Well,” she said, winding a curl around her finger and fluttering her eyelashes. “It really came down to the cute guys. Biology had all those sexy, smart nerds. And poli-sci had all the confident alpha men. I mean, what girl could resist?”