Page 100 of Forbidden Grumpy Boss

“Haven’t seen you in a while, Silas,” George says. “Especially at the golf club. Man, we had the game of our lives a few days ago, and I—”

“I really don’t care, George,” I cut in, making my way to my seat.

At the other side of the table, there’s Richard, who’s sitting in for his ill father and too busy checking out his new nose in his phone camera to notice much of anything. And finally, Ed, who somehow manages to drone on about his wife and how she’s cheating on him in every meeting.

“And so, I looked through her phone while she was sleeping, and I saw the text she sent to him,” Ed is telling Richard, who looks like he doesn’t even know Ed’s beside him. “I shook her awake, and when she saw the phone with me, she burst into—"

“Alright,” I cut him off, looking around the table. “The movie’s back on track, which means it’s time to focus on acquiring Caldwell Media. We need their theatrical network and streaming platform for distribution.”

Richard finally lifts his gaze from his phone. “Yeah, we were beginning to worry that this whole thing would backfire. I mean, a studio?” he tuts. “This is a tech company.”

“Thiscompanyis whatever I say it is, Richard. The last thing I want to do right now is entertain bullshit, so please, spare me.”

“What’s the movie about again?” Ed asks.

“It’s a war drama.”

“Those don’t make a lot of money, do they?” Richard quips.

“What would you know about movies?” Marcus rolls his eyes.

George turns to me. “How’s the deal coming, now that Henry Caldwell’s . . . indisposed?”

“Indisposed?” Marcus laughs. “The old bastard’s in a coma.”

“He’s probably going to die soon.” Richard shrugs.

“Jesus Christ!” George stares at him like he wants to hit him.

“What? He’s like, eighty.”

“I’m negotiating with his son, Kane,” I reply, cutting off their bicker.

“You guys are friends, right?” George throws Richard a dirty look. “If Henry had handed the keys to the kingdom to his son, this deal would’ve been sealed by now.”

Marcus raises an eyebrow, his expression almost smug. “By the way, Silas. Is it true you and your fiancée split?”

“Marcus!” Ed warns.

My temper flares, a slow burn from the bourbon fueling it. “This isn’t the time, or the place, for gossip. We’re here to talk business—not to discuss my personal life.” My voice comes out like a whip, snapping the tension in the room.

Richard glances from his phone and picks up the conversation thread, “Did she break things off, or was it you who did?”

“One more word about my love life, Richard, and I swear to God, you’ll have to get yourself a new nose.”

There’s a stunned silence, and then they all nod, eager to move on. I grind through the rest of the meeting, my patience wearing thinner by the minute.

***

By the time I’m back in my office, the lingering heat from the bourbon has dulled to a slow, simmering anger. I pour myself another drink, barely tasting it as I stare at the stack of contracts on my desk.

There’s a knock. “Whoever it is, get the hell—"

The door opens behind me, and I look up to see Cassian.

He’s wearing his usual mix of casual and functional—khaki pants, a black shirt that clings to his frame, his dog tags faintly visible beneath the collar. His expression is cautious but warm. And for a moment, it feels like the tension in the room eases.

“Cassian.” I offer a small smile, gesturing to the bottle on my desk. “Drink?”

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