Only with You (The Best Mistake 1)

“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.

“You weren’t supposed to accept!”

Sophie sucked in a breath at his outburst. She couldn’t help it—his reaction stung. She’d known all along that he’d been merely trapped by her sister’s interference and that he didn’t actually want to hire her. But a small, pathetic part of her thought that maybe he’d offered because he wanted to keep her around.

Fool, she thought harshly. Men like Gray did not relish connections with women who wore miniskirts and ratty jeans and whose résumés boasted how many shots they could carry on a tray. Somehow she didn’t think he’d appreciate the nuances of a Buttery Nipple.