‘I have no idea.’
She didn’t bother to hide her sigh. ‘How can you not know that?’
Gray shrugged. ‘I shop in bulk. Those couple of times a year I shop, I figure out what size I am then.’
He reached for his shirt, automatically sliding button after button undone. He’d tugged it off his shoulders and gathered the fabric in his hands before he noticed Lanie had backed off a few steps and was currently staring out the window.
‘This is how I normally work out my size,’ he explained, finding the tag beneath the collar. ‘There you go. Turns out I wear a forty-two-inch shirt.’
‘And you’d like me to go buy you a replacement?’
‘Exactly.’
Not meeting his eyes, Lanie turned away from the window and took a step back towards the door. ‘You know, I could’ve just checked the tag for you. No need to...’ a pause ‘...undress.’
For the first time Gray noticed the tinge of pink to her cheekbones. He suspected the right thing to do would be to apologise. But with the words right on the tip of his tongue he paused.
‘My shirt was covered in hot coffee,’ he said, instead. ‘And this way you can take the shirt with you. To check the size or whatever. Here.’
He thrust the shirt out in front of him.
Now she met his gaze, and hers wasn’t bashful any more. It was razor-sharp and most definitely unimpressed.
He just shrugged. He’d done too much second-guessing recently. The equation was simple—he needed a new shirt and quickly. That was it. Anyone walking down the beach most mornings in summer saw a heck of a lot more skin than he’d just revealed to his assistant.
He steadfastly ignored the subtlest echo of Marilyn’s words in his head. Be nice to this one.
Lanie reached out and their fingers brushed as she snatched the shirt away. Gray watched as her blush spread like quick fire across her cheeks, but her gaze never wavered from his.
‘Thank you,’ he said.
She raised the subtlest eyebrow, but remained silent.
See? He was nice. He checked his watch. ‘You’ve got about ten minutes.’
Gray thought he might have heard Lanie muttering something as she strode out of the room.
Something about remembering money?
* * *
‘He took off his shirt?’
Teagan’s voice was incredulous as she raised the pizza slice to her lips.
‘Uh-huh,’ Lanie said, rounding her kitchen bench to join Teagan at the dining table. ‘I guess it’s not that big a deal. I’ve seen it all before at the beach.’
Teagan chewed thoughtfully for a few moments. ‘You don’t think he was...like...coming onto you or something?’
Lanie just about choked on her own mouthful of pizza. ‘No! I told you. This guy looks like he just walked off a catwalk.’ She shook her head in a decisive movement. ‘It’s more likely he happily whipped of his shirt because he forgot I was female.’
Her friend narrowed her eyes. ‘That’s a pile of crap and you know it. You’re gorgeous.’
Said with the certainty only a best friend could manage.
‘I’m not gorgeous,’ Lanie said, and waved her hand dismissively when Teagan went to speak again. ‘Not in the way people like Grayson Manning are. Or my sister. My mum, even. I’m just not one of the beautiful people. And, honestly, if it means I’d carry on like Gray does, I really don’t mind my ungorgeousness.’
Teagan shook her head in disagreement, but thankfully kept silent.
It had been a great disappointment to Sandra Smith that her eldest daughter had inherited not only the height and athleticism of her ex-husband, but unfortunately also the strong features that were arresting in a man but not exactly beautiful in women. Thankfully two years later Sienna had come along, and was every bit as beauty-pageant-pretty as Sandra.
‘So what are his latest efforts?’ Teagan asked, picking up the unspoken cue to change the subject. ‘Other than the emergency shirt-shopping expedition?’
Lanie shrugged. ‘Same old, same old. Letting me know he needs me to write up a report five minutes before five—so I’m there until seven. Or asking me to book the best restaurant in Perth that is fully booked, for a very important lunch meeting—so I have to go down there and sweet-talk a table out of them. And then cancelling said meeting. Plus, of course, just the general expectation that I can read his mind.’
Teagan shook her head. ‘You shouldn’t put up with this, you know. I’m starting to feel bad. This guy isn’t normal—trust me.’
An unwanted flashback to that more-than-a-glimpse of incredible bare chest she’d seen in Gray’s office very much underlined that comment. No, Gray was not normal. She didn’t understand why, but somehow in his office his chest had been just so much more naked than at the beach. It had felt personal.
Intimate.
She put her half-eaten pizza slice back down on her plate, suddenly no longer hungry.
‘You can quit, you know. I’m sure the agency would find you something else—no problem.’
‘I know that,’ Lanie said. ‘But it’s not so bad. It pays almost double my salary at the swim centre, and I wouldn’t get that anywhere else—anyone but Gray would see straight through my total lack of experience.’
Teagan’s eyes narrowed. ‘There you go again. Underselling yourself.’
Lanie snorted with her wine glass in mid-air. ‘No. You were the one that oversold me, remember?’
Teagan rolled her eyes dramatically. ‘A small detail. The fact is this guy has an awesome PA and he should know it. He’s taking you for granted. Most people would’ve quit by now.’
Based on what she’d learnt in the Manning lunch room, most had. Lanie had a sneaky suspicion that one of the guys in Legal was running a book on how long she’d last.
‘Teags, I could deliver his twice a day triple-shot latte nude and he wouldn’t notice.’
Disturbingly, her friend’s eyes widened. ‘That’s it!’
‘I’m not flashing Gray Manning, Teagan,’ she said dryly.
‘No, no. Not that—at least not exactly.’
‘Partial nudity, then?’ Lanie said. ‘You know, I reckon if I borrowed one of Sienna’s skirts it would be so short and so small that—’
‘You’re not taking this seriously.’
Lanie raised her eyebrows. ‘I didn’t realise you were.’
Teagan’s wine glass made a solid thunk as she placed it firmly on the table. She leant forward, meeting her eyes across the half-finished pizza.
‘Make him notice you. Make him appreciate you.’
‘And what would be the point?’
‘Because you deserve it.’
It was lovely, really, what Teagan was doing. Lovely, and kind, and all the things that Teagan’s friendship always was. Plus also one of the things it occasionally was.
Misguided.
‘I’m fine, Teags,’ she said. ‘Really.’
She didn’t need Teagan—or Gray as her proxy—to be her cheerleader.
She knew Teagan was worried about her—worried about how she was