And Griffin wasn't sure he liked it.
He tried to make conversation. "Maylee? Which tie do you think I should wear this morning?"
She'd picked one out without saying a word.
At breakfast, she'd ordered toast and coffee, and when she ate, she only nibbled at bites and looked as if she wanted to be anywhere but beside him. She kept her gaze downcast and worked on his laptop while he tried to read his book.
He tried, but failed.
Maylee's silence was driving him insane. After a few more minutes of quiet, he closed his book and looked over at her.
She gave him a cool look. "What can I help you with, Lord Montagne Verdi?"
"You can start by letting me know if you plan on sulking all day?"
A bit of her old spark flared, then died again. Her mouth flattened. "I'm not sulking."
"Aren't you? You've not spoken two words since we sat down."
"Forgive me," she said in that icy voice. "I thought that was what you wanted in an assistant."
He got irritated at that. "You know, if you're going to be like this, I can just send you home."
She gave him a blank look. "I don't think you can, Mr. Gr-, er, Lord Montagne Verdi."
"You don't think I can?"
"No, sir." She gave him a challenging look.
"And why do you think that you are so very crucial?" God, she was infuriating.
"Because you have a full schedule today, Lord Montagne Verdi," she said. "Kip double-booked two of your appointments again so I have to see which one I can move to ensure that everyone is happy." She closed the laptop and gave him a tight smile. "But I suppose since you're so in control, you already know that, correct?"
He said nothing.
"Mr. Verdi, if I may be so blunt," she said, and that soft drawl was nearly gone from her voice. "You say that you wish to be independent and don't want hovering, but I find that you are not very independent at all."
Griffin tugged off his glasses so he could give her an appropriately scathing stare. "I beg your pardon?"
"You should," she said mildly. "But in the meantime, I'd like for you to quit threatening my job, because I don't think it's in danger."
"You're fired."
"No, I'm not."
"You're not?"
She shook her head. "Sorry, but you may not like having a country bumpkin like me here, but you still need me."
"And why is that?"
She tilted her head, and he watched as one curl sprang free from its jail. "What time is your first appointment today and where is it to?"
He licked his lips and thought. Was this a trick question? "I'm meeting with . . . a board of trustees . . ." He tried to think.
Her eyebrows went up. "Go on."
"Over a . . . donation of some kind." He waved a hand. "That's what they're always about."
"Wrong. You're having a late breakfast with your mother at ten in the morning. Then, you're going to a polo match with your brother, George. And then you have a family dinner at your mother's later tonight." She gave him a prim look. "Which you would know if you knew anything about your own schedule. I, meanwhile, have packed your suit for dinner this evening, selected a different tie and shirt for you to wear to the polo match so it doesn't look like you're recycling your clothes, and have arranged for you to have a breather in between in case you need to get away from your family because they're hovering." Her voice was utterly cool. "So I've tried to accommodate that. And I certainly won't be hovering in the future-"
"Maylee-"
"Further, you don't carry money. You can't tie your own tie, can't pick out your own clothes without assistance, and you don't drive yourself anywhere. Let's face it, Mr. Verdi, you'd be lost without someone here to hold your hand."
"That is ridiculous-"
"Yes, it is," Maylee said quietly. "Which is why you shouldn't treat me like I'm garbage just because I work for you."
"I do not!"
"You constantly act like I'm not good enough to breathe your air, Mr. Verdi. I may not be the assistant you wanted . . ." Her voice broke a little and she paused. "But I'm the one you got, so you just need to suck it up and deal."
He scowled at her. "I can drive myself."
She crossed her arms. "So drive yourself. Do you want me to untie your tie so you can do it yourself as well?"
Griffin put a hand protectively over his tie. "No."
She waited.
He threw his napkin down on the table. "For the record, I am completely capable of handling such things on my own. You tie my tie because it pleases me to have it done. I have a driver because I am rich enough to pay someone else to drive. Are you going to chide me for not cooking my own meal and having someone else deliver it to the table?" He gestured at the breakfast laid out before them.