Only with You (21 page)

O
f all the ways Gray expected to be spending his first truly sunny Saturday in Seattle, it wasn’t at a company picnic.

A picnic that he was supposedly hosting.

With the help of his assistant.

Who was supposedly just his
friend
.

And yet here he was on a gorgeous late-May afternoon, surrounded by balloon bouquets, blow-up obstacle courses, beanbag tosses, and the spouses and children of his employees.

It should have been a disaster.

But as usual, Sophie had been right. Everyone seemed to be loving it. He’d lost count of the number of times that someone had clapped him on the back with the affirmation that Brayburn Luxuries was an even better place to work now that it was under Gray’s considerate care.

Wives had simpered at him, grateful that in a world of corporate schmucks with no soul and no family, that they were lucky enough to belong to a “work family” that respected and supported the homelife.

Gray hadn’t bothered to explain that he’d had nothing to do with it. That every last detail, from DJ down to the corn on the cob, had been masterminded by the world’s biggest people-loving tornado.

Sophie.

He looked around for his erstwhile assistant, hoping she’d see that he was smiling and shaking hands just like she’d instructed. While lending half an ear to some hyper little man from finance, he finally spotted Sophie over by the games tent.

Yes, she’d set up a
games tent
for a three-hour event. And yes, it was ridiculous.

But damn if people weren’t loving it.

His plastered-on smile faltered as he saw who she was talking to.

As if it wasn’t enough that Jeff Andrews had become a permanent fixture at Sophie’s desk over the past couple of weeks, it would seem that he needed to drool over Gray’s assistant at work events as well.

Since they were
friends
, Sophie had felt the need to explain that Jeff had just finalized a messy divorce and was in need of a friend. Sophie, being Sophie, had taken Jeff under her wing in an effort to “distract him from his pain.”

Gray, being a man, was reasonably sure that the main focus of Jeff’s personal life at the moment had nothing to do with missing his ex and everything to do with coaxing a sympathetic Sophie into bed. He narrowed his eyes as Jeff playfully tugged at Sophie’s ponytail.

Flirting with coworkers, especially subordinates, was unprofessional and lowbrow.

He promptly ignored the voice in his head that whispered,
Hypocrite
.

“…and that’s how my wife and I learned that athlete’s foot was contagious!” the bumbling employee from finance was saying, with a proud grin at having captivated the CEO’s attention for all this time.

“That’s, um…that’s…”
Why the hell were they talking about this? And what was this man’s name again?

“Oh, there’s my wife now!” the athlete’s foot expert said proudly. “Keri! Keri! Over here, babe! I want you to meet Gray!” He blanched for a moment. “It’s cool if I call you Gray, right?”

No, it’s absolutely not cool.
“Sure,” he said weakly. “Call me Gray.”

“My wife will think it’s so cool that I’m on a first-name basis with the company’s CEO,” he said with a delighted grin.

Sure enough, the wife
was
impressed by her husband’s lofty connections, and it took Gray another ten minutes of listening to conversation about sausage-making before he could politely remove himself. Gray began making his way through the throng of people, hoping his expression said “pleasant, but busy.” He couldn’t handle much more of this chatter. Overall, the afternoon hadn’t been horrible, but if he had to make one more inane comment about the great weather or the merits of the Seattle school districts, he’d probably need a sedative.

Pretending an interest in the food, he kept one eye on Sophie as she continued to giggle with Jeff. Didn’t she have better things to do than flirt? Caterers to coordinate? Wallflowers to soothe?

“Great party, Mr. Wyatt,” said a low feminine voice to his left.

Glancing down, he saw Beth Jennings, his HR manager. “Thanks,” he said, grateful to find someone he could relax around. Beth knew him well enough by now not to expect inane rambling. His eyes slid again to Sophie, whose hand was settled on Jeff’s forearm, and his fist clenched around his plastic utensils.

It’s your own fault
, he told himself. The “friends” routine had been his idea.

He just hadn’t expected her to embrace it quite so damn readily. She’d moved easily into the role of platonic, helpful friend and bidding assistant. It was annoying, really.

The only hint that there had ever been any tension between them happened in the office elevator on Monday. The elevator became more full than usual, and Sophie, in making room for more passengers, had become pressed against him. His body had tensed immediately at the brief contact, and from the hitch in her breath, he had a feeling she wasn’t exactly immune either.

But the moment was over before he had a chance to smell her nearness, and in the moments that followed she’d chatted happily about a date she had planned for later that night. He’d told himself the knot in his stomach had everything to do with annoyance at her rambling, and nothing to do with jealousy.

His life was back to the way he wanted it.

No more stressing about saying the wrong thing, and no more constant worrying about what she thought of him.

“Earth to Mr. Wyatt,” Beth was saying. “You got a little preoccupied with the beans there.”

She nodded toward the pot of baked beans that he’d been stirring with angry stabbing motions. “Sorry,” he said, dropping the spoon.

“Oh, it’s no problem. I know you have a lot on your mind trying to make a good impression on all of these employees after the legacy left by Mr. Brayburn. But I have to tell you, as much as we loved the man, he never put on anything like this. Major brownie points.”

“It was all Sophie,” he said truthfully. He’d agreed to the event and shown up, but he couldn’t rightfully claim any part of its success.

“She’s great, isn’t she?” Beth said fondly, glancing over to where Jeff was now feeding Sophie a piece of pie. “You know, I never thought her and Jeff…well, I mean…I hadn’t realized that they were so close until recently.”

Gray grunted, willing Beth to talk about something else. Some
one
else.

“You know, I always thought…well…I guess you never can tell.”

“You always thought what?” he asked sharply.

Her smile slipped slightly and she began to look nervous.

Great, Gray. Very smooth.
He tried again. “What did you think?” he asked with a strained smile.

“Well,” she said nervously, licking her lips and fiddling with her hamburger bun. “After the weird dynamic I saw between you and Sophie that first day, and the way you were always getting under each other’s skin, well, I guess I maybe thought…”

“Yes?”

She let out a nervous laugh. “Oh, it’s just a little gossip. But for those first few days, I thought that maybe you and Sophie had a…well, a
thing
. Crazy how misperceptions start, isn’t it?”

“Yes. Crazy,” he said quietly. “Ms. Jennings, if you’ll excuse me, I really should be making my rounds.”

“Of course,” she said with a wave of her hand.

His plate full of food he didn’t want, Gray searched around for somewhere to sit. The handful of picnic tables were half-full with chattering families and coworkers who knew each other. Despite his title, or perhaps
because
of it, he knew nobody beyond their name, face, and job description. He didn’t know their hobbies, their children, or their favorite sports teams.

But he knew Sophie.

Although, he wasn’t even sure he knew her anymore. In the past two weeks, she’d been her usual chatty self with him. Perhaps more so. But it felt superficial. He was now seeing the same Sophie that she presented to everyone else. She was still sarcastic, but nothing like the gutsy spitfire he’d met in the Las Vegas elevator and who’d gone toe to toe with a brand-new boss who’d openly disdained her.

He didn’t like it.

He wanted the old Sophie back. The one who breathed fire but also lit
him
on fire. But he knew he couldn’t have that.

Abandoning the idea of eating, much less finding somewhere to sit, he surreptitiously dumped his paper plate in the garbage. After he shook hands with a few more people he barely knew, he began making his way toward the activity tent.

Not because that was where Sophie and Jeff continued to laugh like an old married couple, he told himself. He merely wanted to determine if there were employees over there whom he hadn’t greeted yet.

“Hey, guys,” he said casually.

They broke off their conversation as he approached, and he pushed away the uncomfortable sensation that he was obviously an outsider in their party for two.

“Hey, boss,” Jeff said with his usual easy nature. “Great party you’ve got here.”

“It wasn’t really my idea,” he said honestly, his eyes settling briefly on Sophie, who was watching the festivities with a little smile on her face.

“Yeah, this has Sophie all over it,” Jeff said with a laugh. “She totally saved my butt last week when I was trying to plan a wine-tasting party for my staff. Couldn’t have done it without her.”

Gray didn’t miss the casual possessive note in Jeff’s voice and stifled a surge of resentment and the urge to snarl that Sophie was
taken
.

Especially since Sophie wasn’t
looking
at him. Gray couldn’t even accuse her of giving him the cold shoulder, she just seemed…disinterested.

Which was exactly what he’d wanted.

“Gray!” called an out-of-breath voice. He tore his eyes away from Sophie’s profile and looked to the source of the panting. Here was the stout Stan—now he remembered the man’s name—of the athlete’s foot, rushing toward him, Keri in tow. Gray stifled a groan.

“We just completed The Castle,” Stan said, panting slightly from his speed-walk across the park. “You’ve gotta try this thing!”

“The Castle?” Gray asked blankly.

Keri gestured toward the huge blow-up jungle-gym monstrosity on the far edge of the park. “Over there. It’s been the hit of the party. At first it was just the kids that were competing, but now the adults are going through. It’s a race to see who can get through it first.”

That sounded like…hell. Gray glanced toward Sophie with a raised eyebrow.

“The event coordinator highly recommended it,” Sophie said with a shrug. “Apparently it’s becoming quite the rage at corporate events, assuming employees don’t mind a little physical activity.”

What had happened to the days of cocktail parties? What was wrong with standing stationary and drinking a nice Scotch?

“That’s great,” Gray said awkwardly.

“Who won?” Jeff asked Stan and his wife.

Dammit.
He should have asked that.

“I did,” Keri said proudly as Stan pouted.

“It was my socks,” Stan said defensively. “They’re new, and therefore very slippery. I’d recommend taking your socks off before going through, Gray.”

Gray didn’t know which disturbed him more: the athlete’s foot expert discussing going barefoot, or the fact that they apparently expected him to fumble his way through a blow-up tower in front of his entire company.

“Oh, I’m not really dressed for that,” he said noncommittally.

Sophie snickered. “Yeah, I’m sure your jeans and polo shirt are really going to hold you back. It’s not like you’re wearing a suit.”

He met her eyes. They both knew the only reason he wasn’t wearing a suit was because she’d called him that morning with a stern lecture on looking approachable and “not looking like a stiff.”

“Come on, Gray, the people will love it,” Jeff said, taking a sip of his beer. “The oh-so-proper CEO scooting through a plastic tube on his belly? It’ll be great for your reputation.”

Gray narrowed his eyes looking for an underlying insult, but Jeff’s face remained pleasant, and the sausage-making couple bobbed their heads in agreement. “I shouldn’t,” he said with sham regret. “I still have a ton of people to meet. But
you
should,” he said to Jeff. “You’re a vice president; it should have the same effect.”

“He can’t,” Sophie said. “Jeff’s got a bad ankle after his last tennis match.”

“Oh, and whose fault is that?” Jeff asked teasingly.

She shrugged innocently. “It’s not my fault you didn’t listen to my warning about my killer backhand.”

What the hell? They’re playing tennis now? Together
? She’d never asked
him
to play tennis. Friends did that kind of thing, right?

“I’ll go if you go,” he blurted out.

Four pairs of startled eyes glanced at him.

“Who are you talking to?” Jeff asked.

“Sophie,” Gray said, daring her to meet his eyes. “Come on, the president against his assistant? It’ll be great for company morale.”

He’d chosen his words deliberately. She was all about company morale. She narrowed his eyes at him, and he could see her mind reeling with possible excuses.

Finally she nodded. “All right. You’re on. But you should prepare yourself for a crushing loss. I’m extremely agile and flexible. It’ll be no contest.”

“I’m bigger. And taller.”

“I’m scrappy.”

“I lift weights.”

“I play tennis,” she snapped back.

“Okay, then!” Jeff said with a laugh. “Let’s see this battle go down, shall we?”

And suddenly Gray felt the lightest he had in weeks. Sophie had let her fake cheerful mask down for the first time since The Talk, and it felt good to have her back, if only for a moment.

Just this one stupid activity
, he told himself. Just this one last moment to draw out the real Sophie. Then it was back to professionalism and talks about the weather.

Kicking off her sandals, Sophie stared up at the beast called “The Castle.” When she’d signed the contract to have the damn thing set up, she certainly hadn’t pictured herself going through it. It was supposed to be for kids.