Sophie’s expression remained unimpressed. “Did he just…?” “I wish I could tell you he didn’t, but we have an audience, so let’s focus on how to remedy the situation and make you happy.” She curved an eyebrow. “You can make me happy, I’m sure.” The suggestion had been clear. “Consider it done, sweetheart. Now!” Rhy patted her shoulder, his American Psycho smile still intact. “Please allow me to direct all my wrath—excuse me, attention—toward my volatile, genius boss. Be right back to take your order. And number.”
