Page 13 of Forbidden Grumpy Boss

There it is. The sting. Her words hit me like a whip, but I keep my cool. I don’t blame her for hating me. I’d hate me, too, if I were her.

"I didn’t know you were the one coming either,” I admit, keeping my voice level, professional, like the sight of her isn’t throwingme completely off balance. “But now that you’re here, well, here we are.”

Her expression tightens, jaw clenched. “Here we are,” she repeats, each word cold, biting. “Though I’m shocked you remember my name after all these years, considering you made it clear that night meant nothing to you.”

I swallow. Of course, she’s bringing up Rome. Why wouldn’t she? That night’s been haunting me ever since I let her walk away like the asshole I was. But I’m not ready to dig up that grave right now. It’s barely nine in the morning, and I’ve got a meeting in an hour.

I start to say something—an apology, an explanation,anything—but she cuts me off, raising a hand. “I don’t want to talk about that night.”

Right. Of course. She’s still in control. “You brought it up,” I say, unable to keep the edge out of my voice.

“Yeah, well, forget it,” she snaps back, eyes blazing. “I’m just gonna go. Have a great life, Silas. Or not.” She starts to walk away.

“Wait.”

She stops in her tracks, holding the glass door. I notice there’s no ring on her finger. Her round face isn’t as round as it was. She’s lost some weight on her face, which makes her cheekbonesmore pronounced. Her heart-shaped lips are pressed thinly as she stares at me.

“What?”

“You don’t want the job?” I cock my head, pulling at my black tie.

“Working for you?” she scoffs like she just heard the stupidest idea ever. “Why the hell would I do that?”

“What, so you don’t need a job?”

She stays silent, her lips somehow pressed tighter together. I can see she’s desperate. I can also see that she hates my fucking guts.

“There’s a shitload of people on a waiting list somewhere that’d kill to have this job,” I say, wetting my lip.

“Give it to one of them, then,” she retorts.

“So, that’s a no then, yeah?” I step away from my desk and walk towards her. “You don’t want it?” She looks up at me, her brown eyes holding anger. She’s changed, but she hasn’t changed that much. I can still see the lady from that night in Rome.

"Can we just, pretend this didn’t happen? Move on? I need an assistant. You need a job, right? Simple."

It sounds so easy, but I can see the hesitation in her posture and the way she crosses her arms like she’s building a wall betweenus. There’s so much left unsaid, and it’s eating away at me. But the truth is, Idoneed an assistant. And after what happened in Rome? Hiring her might be my only shot at making things right.

“I don’t think we can make it—"

“I think we can,” I cut in, offering a small nod. “You’re already familiar with me. It’ll make the transition smoother.”

Leah scoffs, but she doesn’t immediately bolt for the door, which means I still have a shot here. She looks away like she’s considering it, eyes flickering toward the window where the rain pelts the glass in steady drizzles. Her fingers toy with the strap of her bag, a sign she’s thinking hard.

I know her tells. I remember them well, actually.

She finally sighs, as though she’s resigning herself to fate. “Fine,” she says, her voice low. “But let’s be clear. What happened in Rome stays in Rome. I’m not here for anything other than work.”

I nod, fighting the urge to say something more, but I keep it businesslike. “Absolutely. Strictly professional.”

“Great.” She nods, looking around my office. “So what next?”

“How about you head to Jim’s office on the third floor to get your contract and everything else signed?”

“Jim?”

“H.R.”

“Oh.”

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